“Grammo, when people look at me they smile.” “Do you wanna know why?”
“Probably because they think you’re weird.”
“No Grammo. They Smile at me because they think I’m cute!”
But, of course.
Who would have thought that after I posted this on a whim last week, the photo challenge this week would be “CREEPY”? Had to repost it:
I was playing with my granddaughter the other day. She was playing with her dolls. I was playing with my camera. And this was the result:
I don’t really know what it is. I can’t put my finger on it. But it gives me the creeps. Is it just me?
I went to church today and Pastor Mark preached about character and integrity. These are the things that a father should have and want to be remembered for when they are gone. It was a great sermon but it somewhat made me sad because I don’t remember my Dad for his character and integrity. I then went on to read a lot of blogs today from bloggers worldwide thanking their fathers for being such a great Dad. I thought about it a lot today and thought maybe I should thank my Dad too:
Thanks Dad for changing your name and never letting us know who you really were. I am glad that I do not know my heritage or any of my family members from your side of the tracks. Even though I have no clue where I came from, I do know where I am going.
Thanks Dad for letting us know that you had two daughters before marrying my Mom, adopting her boys (my brothers) and donating your sperm for me. If I could find Pammy and Lisa (yes, this is all I know about them) I would let them know how lucky they were that you walked out of their life and never looked back.
Thanks Dad for never taking me to church or teaching me about God. It makes me so happy to know that you respected me enough to allow me to make my own choice about religion. Because you allowed me to make my own choice about religion, I made poor choices about life in general. God should have always been first in my life from the day I was born. But you made sure that didn’t happen. How dare anyone love someone in life more than you.
Thanks Dad for always making sure I knew how to make friends. I mean, because we moved every two or three years I had to, right? Because of that I tried very hard never to get close to anyone because we would be moving again. I still have that ability. The ability to distance myself from everyone. They say home is where the heart is. I never had a home.
Thanks Dad for making sure I always went to the doctor and to the dentist like I should have growing up. Because I was so well taken care of I only needed $13,000.00 worth of work on my teeth when I turned 18 and was able to care for myself. And that broken nose you never took me to the doctor for, well I finally got that fixed too when I was in my thirties, well after you had died from your drinking.
Thanks Dad for showing all of us how to drink really well. Alcoholism, whether genetic or learned, you made sure it effected every one of us.
Thanks Dad for being sure we all knew what a strong man you were. We were all left speechless every time you showed your strength when you beat one of my brothers, or even my Mom for that matter.
Thanks Dad for being such a great leader and for taking charge in the family. Your guidance taught us so well. We knew that as long as we pounded our own chest that everyone was sure to respect us. Respect was not something we would have to earn in life, right? As long as we controlled everyone we came in contact with we would be okay.
Thanks Dad for always being so proud of me in school. For not attending my induction into the National Honor Society. For not attending my high school graduation. For not encouraging me to go to college. Mom always said my mind was wasted, but who was she to speak up? I’m still learning Dad, every day I learn something new.
Thanks Dad, for playing Russian roulette with Mom, literally. Although she married you, she always knew she was the lucky one, finding one of the five empty chambers every time. Did you ever think she would outlive you? She didn’t. She was certain you would kill her first.
Thanks Dad, for teaching me how to fish. Yep, thanks Dad, I’m glad I know how to fish.
Wow, Dad. Who would have known I would have so much to say “Thank you” for? Really, Thanks Dad, because if it were not for you, I would not be who I am today. That’s not to say that you helped or encouraged me to be the person that I am, but you certainly showed me who I did not want to be.
This is in response to the Daily Post – Weekly Photo Challenge: On The Move
They will definitely be “On the Move”
There is a story behind the picture.
I am not sure I am ready to write about it yet.
Maybe another day.
In response to this week’s weekly photo challenge: Selfie
Yes, she is only 3.
As a Zero to Hero participant, my 28th task is to start looking for patterns in my blog’s performance and build on my most popular content. Today, I am to find the post that received the most views, likes and comments and write a related post. The following post was in response to the weekly photo challenge: Juxtaposition A juxtaposition is “the act of placing things side by side, especially for the purpose of comparison or contrast”
I really don’t know how to elaborate much about a photo, other than that I knew immediately what picture I wanted to post in response to this challenge. The photo taken in 2006 at the Monster Truck Jam in Houston. My youngest son was 14 and we had a blast. It was really loud in Reliant Stadium. Next week I take his daughter, my granddaughter, back to the same location for Sesame Street Live! I can’t wait!
My Thanksgiving this year is not one I would call traditional. We were planning a small dinner with the boys, late in the evening so they could spend time with their other folks earlier in the day. But things didn’t come together as we had planned. One of our older boys was going to Lousiana to see his grandparents with his mother. Our youngest, who lives with us, was going to his Mom’s for a feast and Christmas tree decorating. And our other two boys were going to their Aunt Kathy’s house for the traditional Hispanic Thanksgiving consisting of turkey and tamales along with all the trimmings. My husband and I saw this as “our opportunity”. No cooking. No cleaning. Just a quick lunch at the local cafeteria. Heavenly.
The morning was amazing. While the hubby is on a time clock, you know the one, early to rise early to bed, I am not. My sleep is sporadic to say the least and the first opportunity I had to sleep in I took it. After a quick shower I decided to skip the make up and just put on a little lip stick. That’s when my day changed.
About 11:30 I got a text from one of the boys asking what time dinner was. The “Oh Shit!” factor kicked in immediately. Did I forget to tell one of them I wasn’t cooking? I had to confess that I had a communication problem and apologize to him. That was followed by a “NM Happy Thanksgiving anyway” He was fine. I think. C’mon! He had turkey and tamales waiting.
As the lipstick was gliding on my bottom lip I realized that I grabbed the wrong tube from my make up bag. Not that “Frosted Apricot” wasn’t my color, it just looked better on my mother. This was the tube of lipstick I found in her purse when she passed away. I never use it. I just always have it with me. The scent brought back memories of her hugging me and kissing me on the cheek. God, what I would give to have one of those hugs again.
Later that day, after our delightful cafeteria meal, it was time for an afternoon nap. Something we both had time to do since there was no cooking and cleaning. (Big, big smiles here) I cuddled up on the couch with a little black blanket that was left in my car after a trip to San Antonio with a very dear friend. We used to meet every year in October for the Women of Faith conference . I have not been able to connect with her. My emails are not rejected just unanswered. Her phone still rings but has no voice mail. I’ve often thought of driving to her home town to hunt her down, but why? She knows how to reach me. I miss her, but I am sure she is fine. People change. Relationships change. Sadly, I skipped Women of Faith this year, but I will be back next year. And every year after that.
By not having the typical hustle and bustle this Thanksgiving, I was able to take some time to reflect and think about those who are no longer with me. People who I have loved and lost. The very same people who have played a part in molding me into the person I am today. People who have touched my life in a way no one else has been able to. I was able to take the time to be thankful for not only those I cherish today but also for those I cherished yesterday.
The oldest boy called me late evening on Thanksgiving day. He called to say “Thanks Mom”. This was the first Thanksgiving in years that he didn’t get any of my peach cobbler. Sigh.
I didn’t really think too much about my Dad on Thanksgiving. It’s not like I have a tube of his lipstick. Or one of his old blankets. Next year maybe I’ll pop open a can of Lone Star beer and be thankful for the alcoholism that runs in my family.
Ah yes, next year. When I cook. No matter what. Even if its only peach cobbler.