January 19, 1930 - a Blog Post by slidein2meplz

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1/19/2006 7:09 pm

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3/5/2006 9:27 pm

January 19, 1930

My dad would have been 76 years old today.

He and I didn't exactly have the best relationship between a father and a .

In fact I honestly can't ever remember having heard him tell me he loved me. He didn't really know how to show love...and he didn't know how to discipline without beating one of us half to death....or so it seemed at the time.

I am the oldest of the 5 of us. I have a sister and 3 brothers. We were the 5 J's.
Jean, Jo, Jim, John and Jeff.

My mother would stand at the door and holler..each of our names when it was time to come in for dinner or just plain time to come in. She'd holler just once and wait...I suppose maybe 5 or 6 min's... don't know.. I was busy bein a .

If we didn't come a runnin when she called...then we'd hear... our dad... "WHISTLE"....and that was our 1 and only last warning to get into the house.

From what my mom has told me through the years, my dad apparently had a hard time growing up. His mother...my grandmother...didn't treat him very well.

I guess when he was just a ...she would literally tie him up like some sort of a dog...to the clothes line outside while she did the washing and ironing of other peoples clothes. She didn't have the time to care for him...she had clothes to wash. It was part of the way she earned a living back then.

Neighbors of my grandmother had shared this story with my mom. I remember when she told me about it for the first time...how sad I felt for my dad.

No wonder I often thought..no wonder he didn't know how to show us he loved us...he hadn't been shown how by his mother.

As I grew up, and because I was the oldest...it seemed that I was the one who got it the most. I was the one my sister and brothers watched and made their mental notes to themselves about what NOT to do.

I'm not going to go into all the beatings...and there were plenty....and...they were bad...I will say that once he knocked me out...that one was the worst....but they got it too...just not quite as bad as I did.

I grew up hating my dad....I dreaded hearing that old Studaker truck of his turning the corner and coming up the street at the end of his work day.

By the time we were all in our teens and my brothers were in their pre-teens... we learned what sort of stuff pissed him off and we learned how to read his body language...how to read the expressions on his face when he walked through the door....we learned what kind of MOOD he was in by the tone of his voice....and we walked on egg shells...boy did we walk on egg shells.

We got to be expert egg shell walkers. We also, learned to avoid him in any and every way possible. You've never seen 5 scatter to their rooms or to the backyard or the living room faster. Little by little...we'd venture out to the kitchen...walking on egg shells.

Once I turned 17.. I discovered that if I had a boyfriend... my dad wouldn't beat me. So I always made sure I had a boyfriend.

My last boyfriend of my youth...became my first (and only -- so far)husband. I married him for all the wrong reasons. I married him so I could get out from under my dads roof.

We've all heard that..haven't we.."while your living under my roof..it's going to be this way". Maybe we've said it ourselves...to our ..huh? Makes sense..my house, my rules...I'm the one feeding and clothing you...providing shelter.

Anyway... I get married.. I'm barely 18...2 weeks out of high school. Now..I didn't have to get married... I wasn't pregnant...but I got married to get away from my dad.

3 days later.. I realize...I don't love my husband...what the hell am I doing? I call my mom...and I'm crying...and she tells me I'm just nervous...and it'll be ok...just give it some time. So...I gave it some time. 3 years later... I have a ...I do so love my ... but I still didn't exactly love my husband.

This link will give you a little
better understanding about that

Was I wrong

So, I stick with it and gave it more time.

About 2 years later...I decide...I can't do this anymore. I'm 23 years old...I've never had a job in my life. But...I've got to get out and I do. I move back to Az. from Ca. and in with my mom temporarily. I've no car and hardly any money.

All I had was my , 3 suitcases...and $75.00

My dad...by now....has grown... or maybe it was because I had grown. He was different...and I was for sure way different....I wasn't just a anymore...but I was also a mom...and he was a Grandpa.

He was just plain COOL..

Now, my mom and dad...divorced when I was 19 but they had always remained close. So the 2 of them went in together and bought me a car. It was a 1969 Ford Fairlane or something like that.... ugliest car you've ever seen... light pea green, 4 door sled. Gas gauge didn't work, heater didn't work, no a/c...but it was transportation.

My ex husband and I hadn't divorced just yet...but we were in the process and ...there were still a lot of things I didn't have and still needed...like important papers, pictures...the rest of my clothes and my 's clothes...certain keep sakes, stuff I had left in Ca.

So my dad and I take a road trip. We drove up on a Sunday...stayed the night at a really cheap motel....and the next morning....I called the house to see if he was there...and he wasn't...he was gone to work. So, we went to the house... we got what I wanted and needed....and packed the back of my dads truck til it was full and then headed for home.

We didn't do a lot of talking...but we sure did listen to a lot of country music...and we laughed a lot.

Getting divorced was proving to be a very difficult thing... my ex-husband wanted custody and of course...so did I. We battled back and forth for months....until finally one day...my dad picked up the phone and said to my ex....
"Sign the mother fucking papers...or I'll come out there with a baseball bat".

Nuff said...the fear of God instilled.... the ex did.. and ~~ POOF ~~ shortly thereafter... we were divorced. Done deal. I got custody and he got pretty liberal visitation rights. He also got off damn cheap for support. Back then he only had to pay $125.00 a month...and it didn't have to go through the court system. Wasn't monitored at all for compliance.

So, now that I have all that out of the way... I went looking for a job...and I found one fairly quick. Shortly after I started working...my dad met a woman and he moved in with her....but he had a dilema...his apartment lease was not up.

So...he gave me his apartment, and he helped me move in....all was good.

I have my ..I have a job, a car...and my own place.

However...being a single mom... money was always very tight and my ex husband didn't always send support. It was a constant battle between he and I.

Then that first Christmas and New Years after we were divorced he asked if our could come out for the entire month of January. His sister would pick her up and drive her out to Ca. I wasn't wild about letting her go, but I did.

When the month was up and she was to be flown home... I get a call from him saying...he wasn't going to let her come home. I made too much money according to DES and not enough money to afford a lawyer. I was stuck..or felt stuck... and didn't know what to do... this went on for nearly 9 months. Finally my dad said... that he and I would go out there.. and we would "snatch" her back, because every time I called to talk to her... he wouldn't let me. Well... we did.. we snatched her back... My dad... got my back for me....and off we went... with dust flyin. My ex was pissed...but his wife calmed him down....and we didn't have any more trouble after that.

My dad... and I became bud's. He became the dad he should've been when I was growing up. He came to my rescue more times than I can count since those early days I came back home. I finally loved my dad. I finally respected my dad.... I finally needed my dad....and he needed not only me..but the rest of us too.

I have tons and tons of funny memories of my dad. He was a character, he had charisma...he was street smart...common sense smart... and a damn good car mechanic. He used to race cars...he used to work for a famous Indy car driver... he knew how to do just damn near anything... and he could fix nearly damn near anything. He was funny, really, really funny. He kinda looked a lot like Johnny Carson. He had that same kind of sparkle in his eye.

When he was diagnosed with bladder cancer shortly after his birthday in 1991 he came to the dealership I was working at and he came in calm, cool... collected like he always had...and he said for me to come outside..he needed to talk to me. He told me he had just been diagnosed with cancer and for me not to worry, because he didn't know just how bad it was yet...but in a few days he was going to go and have a biopsy...then we'd know.

It wasn't good news... he didn't have long to live. He tried chemotherapy but it just made him so sick. I took him for chemo once...and I remember I had to drive really slow...because he was getting motion sickness.

He quit having chemo and opted for quality over quantity. 1 week before he died....I knew I had to forgive him... I knew he needed to know how he made me feel when I was growing up and he needed to know that I forgive him.

So, I wrote and I wrote and I poured every ounce of everything I ever felt into that letter....and I forgave him....and I let him know that even though he couldn't say he loved me.... I knew he did...and that I loved him too.

He died May 15th, 1991 not even 4 months after he was diagnosed...and his name was Keith.

He didn't know how to say it... but he knew how to show it.

Happy birthday Dad! I miss you..and I still love you.

~~~ Just me, poppin to say HI! ~~