Today and for the past three days, my life is better. I must remember that the upsetting days are not forever, things look better in the morning, "This too shall pass", as my mom told me many times....
How many times have I told my children and grandchildren that we can't rationally discuss this right now? By the time we remember what the problem was, we can't remember what the "problem" was!!
So, hurray for having a "soft place to fall!!" I am on the opposite side of the continent, can't do a darn thing about any crises that develop back there, and I am MISSING all of my crazy family members!! I really am, for pity sake!
We sleep until we wake up, no "pressing" reasons not to. My window is open, cool breezes coming in, 65 degrees during the day, lower at night. Sure beats 100+ on the east coast!! We have dinner invitations two nights this week, my west coast kinfolk pop in and out. I have avocados to eat, oranges to pick off the tree, totally different yummy things to eat. I needed this!!
We will go to Costco in a few minutes, but my favorite place to go is Trader Joe's. TJ's has had many requests, much begging, groveling to bring a store to Fredericksburg, but they are ignoring us! It's their loss, but mine, too!!
I will stay here the entire month of August, returning home on the 26th. My granddaughter, Sarah, will marry Jim on the 28th in Florida. I'm sad not to go; can't afford to go down there and do their wedding reception at our house on the 5th of September. I cry every time I think of it...I'm crying now!
But we're all good at putting on weddings, receptions, (FIVE at my house!) and we will make this an affair to remember. I love Sarah's husband to be, I love his parents, his whole family!
Jim's father is a pastor, the best kind! His folks are loving, love our Sarah, and are far from stodgy, but in the back of my mind, I wonder how they'll view our rather "interesting" lifestyle. There will be "Yahoos" in the back yard, probably a pig roasting, and, of course, BEER! The younger Jim has been here, seen the way we live, and fit in well..... Hope he has given his family a heads up.
I think Facebook has already given them a glimpse into who we are: SOMEBODY needs to warn them!
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Not so happy time
This blog will likely be deleted one day. It is part of my life, but there are far more happy times than sad for me to remember, and, as is my nature, I prefer to forget them...Occasionally, as in all families, we run into situations that impact our lives in a very negative way.
Such was the case in 1997, when I divorced my second husband. He, I discovered, had molested a family member. He went to jail for 10 years. He died before he was released. So be it.
We will be forever changed. But there is another facet: I have a mortgage on my house, due to his need for my equity to bail him out of his debts. I was incredibly foolish, but I allowed it, and now I am reaping what I have sown.
In all the years since we built this wonderful home, our door has been open to others. We had kids staying with us because they didn't want to change high schools when their parents moved away. We jumped at the opportunity to host exchange students. One from Chile, one from Argentina, one from Switzerland, and lastly, one from Kurdistan. They and their contemporaries were welcomed here, both while Charlie was alive, and more recently two years ago. Absolutely no regrets!!
In between, some "lost souls" moved into my basement: A longtime friend from grade school and later high school...promised to contribute...never did... We see him, still and love him dearly! A boy who wanted to spend his senior year here. He was to get a job and pay for his room and board..never did, left, no thanks from him or his parents...total moocher!....
A gay young man moved in with his "Doberman Pincherman" (Brooksie's description)... I never knew he and his mutt were down there...Bob felt sorry for him. His family had thrown him out! Then there was "Eddie". He claimed he didn't feel like doing "bad things" as long as he lived in our house...later served time for rape...never did find out what happened to him, but he liked it here!! Didn't know about him living down there, either.
Ronnie came last summer...needed a temporary home...lasted three months. He worked himself into two heart attacks trying to pay his way, two trips to the hospital. I begged him to stop, but, by the time he left, my yard and deck were beautiful!
While he was here, his "wife-like-person" showed up at 10 o'clock at night with his son. SO glad to see me!! Started acting strange, accused my granddaughters of trying to harm me, wanted to walk me to my room, scared the bejeebers out of them!!
A total "schizo", I had him take her back to Maryland...about a month later, she knifed a guest in their apartment, is now in jail for murder !
There is a saying that truth is stranger than fiction. I absolutely believe it!
All this ties in with a blog for another day, the background for what I will write about. I am boarding a plane tomorrow for a month in California...I have had my feelings hurt beyond description. I have paid a huge price for welcoming everyone into my home. Tonight I will try not to think about it. Things look ever-so-much better by morning.
Such was the case in 1997, when I divorced my second husband. He, I discovered, had molested a family member. He went to jail for 10 years. He died before he was released. So be it.
We will be forever changed. But there is another facet: I have a mortgage on my house, due to his need for my equity to bail him out of his debts. I was incredibly foolish, but I allowed it, and now I am reaping what I have sown.
In all the years since we built this wonderful home, our door has been open to others. We had kids staying with us because they didn't want to change high schools when their parents moved away. We jumped at the opportunity to host exchange students. One from Chile, one from Argentina, one from Switzerland, and lastly, one from Kurdistan. They and their contemporaries were welcomed here, both while Charlie was alive, and more recently two years ago. Absolutely no regrets!!
In between, some "lost souls" moved into my basement: A longtime friend from grade school and later high school...promised to contribute...never did... We see him, still and love him dearly! A boy who wanted to spend his senior year here. He was to get a job and pay for his room and board..never did, left, no thanks from him or his parents...total moocher!....
A gay young man moved in with his "Doberman Pincherman" (Brooksie's description)... I never knew he and his mutt were down there...Bob felt sorry for him. His family had thrown him out! Then there was "Eddie". He claimed he didn't feel like doing "bad things" as long as he lived in our house...later served time for rape...never did find out what happened to him, but he liked it here!! Didn't know about him living down there, either.
Ronnie came last summer...needed a temporary home...lasted three months. He worked himself into two heart attacks trying to pay his way, two trips to the hospital. I begged him to stop, but, by the time he left, my yard and deck were beautiful!
While he was here, his "wife-like-person" showed up at 10 o'clock at night with his son. SO glad to see me!! Started acting strange, accused my granddaughters of trying to harm me, wanted to walk me to my room, scared the bejeebers out of them!!
A total "schizo", I had him take her back to Maryland...about a month later, she knifed a guest in their apartment, is now in jail for murder !
There is a saying that truth is stranger than fiction. I absolutely believe it!
All this ties in with a blog for another day, the background for what I will write about. I am boarding a plane tomorrow for a month in California...I have had my feelings hurt beyond description. I have paid a huge price for welcoming everyone into my home. Tonight I will try not to think about it. Things look ever-so-much better by morning.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Mothers
I talked about my dad the other day. It was good, since I needed to remember him and the important things he taught me. For too long I have carried some negative memories in my heart; resentment that needs to be washed away. I still have some work to do in that respect
You see, my dad left my mom in 1958. Charlie and I married in '57, and we left for Hawaii believing all was well. A letter came while we were living in Waikiki, waiting for Navy housing. "Your father left me soon after you started your trip across country....." It was a long letter, so full of emotion that I didn't want to read it. I was alone at the time. I was expected to join the other wives at the beach. I couldn't bring myself to go, and when one of them came to see why, I couldn't speak the words. I didn't cry, couldn't cry. I withdrew, and told no one.....
It is said that divorce causes children to feel undeserved guilt: "Did I do something to cause this? I wish I had just stayed out of their way. What if....? What if....? I wish I didn't ask for that bicycle for my birthday..." And I understand clearly where that comes from. I, though I was 21, an adult, felt the same way. No logic, just pain...hurt...wishing I could fix things.
Mom was a good wife. Dad was a good man. There were things related to his position, entertaining and such, that she happily, willingly participated in. She hosted dinners at our house that would make Martha Stewart notice.....An excellent cook, Mom was well schooled in etiquette, and fun to boot!.
A beautiful table set with family sterling, her English Bone China on a white damask cloth, candles, fresh flowers.... I remember wild duck, shot by my dad, one for each guest. I have no doubt that she could have managed the position of "First Lady" equally well. My dad and I were proud of her.
Each morning she would get up and prepare breakfast for the four of us. Eggs, bacon, OJ, milk, toast, coffee, all the traditional things the people of that generation ate in the morning. I would set the table with the same sterling. We always ate together. Always!
My dad would walk out to the only car we had and leave for work. Mom walked behind him in her housecoat and slippers; a quick kiss, and she and I would stand there till the car disappeared
She was a real asset to him in other ways. Whether she was going to the market or attending a cocktail party she always looked nice...no, she looked pretty! She wore make-up to town, make-up and cologne when my dad was expected home. She had a friend whose husband was director of Washington National Airport. They had no children. Money, to Juanita, was intended for her use to buy clothes, and buy she did!
Each new season she would buy a new wardrobe, and call my mom to come and look at her "discards". Mom paid for them, but she would come home with the most beautiful outfits, costing her a fraction of what Juanita paid for them. So Mom looked quite the "fashionista", and since they traveled in different circles, no one was the wiser! I always admired my mother for ingenuity in satisfying her champagne taste on the family's beer budget!
So, that said, why did my dad leave my mom? I don't think they communicated. Mom's way of expressing her dissatisfaction was to nag. And Dad's way of dealing was to clam up. She was impatient. He, too, was impatient in his own way. Painting the living room was torture for all of us. She was very picky about how it was done. He just wanted to do it! "You missed a spot!" "Evelyn, would you just let me do it?" "I'm just trying to show you that you missed a spot!" (Aaaaarrrrrggggghhhh!)
In retrospect, I think my dad had a pretty severe case of not only depression but stubbornness. The last thing he would have done was visit a marriage counselor, and, heaven forbid, a shrink!!
In those days the only meds they had were valium and such. Antidepressants hadn't even been thought of. And when women complained, they weren't helped, just told to go buy a new hat. Aaarrrggghhh again!!
I have a black and white picture of the two of them sitting on two wicker chairs in "Kaiser's Cottage", a beach house we rented each summer. They look like two movie stars, and the energy you can see between them is electrifying. So, I know it was there..too bad it went....
Mom and dad met in Springfield, Mass. He was working at Westinghouse after graduating from VMI. She at Meekins, Packard, and Wheat (don't know nothin' about that place!) Not sure how long they courted, but the day they married, a boyfriend came by the house and asked to see Evelyn. My grandmother told him she had eloped. His response: "Well, guess I'll go play golf!" She loved to tell that story!
You see, my dad left my mom in 1958. Charlie and I married in '57, and we left for Hawaii believing all was well. A letter came while we were living in Waikiki, waiting for Navy housing. "Your father left me soon after you started your trip across country....." It was a long letter, so full of emotion that I didn't want to read it. I was alone at the time. I was expected to join the other wives at the beach. I couldn't bring myself to go, and when one of them came to see why, I couldn't speak the words. I didn't cry, couldn't cry. I withdrew, and told no one.....
It is said that divorce causes children to feel undeserved guilt: "Did I do something to cause this? I wish I had just stayed out of their way. What if....? What if....? I wish I didn't ask for that bicycle for my birthday..." And I understand clearly where that comes from. I, though I was 21, an adult, felt the same way. No logic, just pain...hurt...wishing I could fix things.
Mom was a good wife. Dad was a good man. There were things related to his position, entertaining and such, that she happily, willingly participated in. She hosted dinners at our house that would make Martha Stewart notice.....An excellent cook, Mom was well schooled in etiquette, and fun to boot!.
A beautiful table set with family sterling, her English Bone China on a white damask cloth, candles, fresh flowers.... I remember wild duck, shot by my dad, one for each guest. I have no doubt that she could have managed the position of "First Lady" equally well. My dad and I were proud of her.
Each morning she would get up and prepare breakfast for the four of us. Eggs, bacon, OJ, milk, toast, coffee, all the traditional things the people of that generation ate in the morning. I would set the table with the same sterling. We always ate together. Always!
My dad would walk out to the only car we had and leave for work. Mom walked behind him in her housecoat and slippers; a quick kiss, and she and I would stand there till the car disappeared
She was a real asset to him in other ways. Whether she was going to the market or attending a cocktail party she always looked nice...no, she looked pretty! She wore make-up to town, make-up and cologne when my dad was expected home. She had a friend whose husband was director of Washington National Airport. They had no children. Money, to Juanita, was intended for her use to buy clothes, and buy she did!
Each new season she would buy a new wardrobe, and call my mom to come and look at her "discards". Mom paid for them, but she would come home with the most beautiful outfits, costing her a fraction of what Juanita paid for them. So Mom looked quite the "fashionista", and since they traveled in different circles, no one was the wiser! I always admired my mother for ingenuity in satisfying her champagne taste on the family's beer budget!
So, that said, why did my dad leave my mom? I don't think they communicated. Mom's way of expressing her dissatisfaction was to nag. And Dad's way of dealing was to clam up. She was impatient. He, too, was impatient in his own way. Painting the living room was torture for all of us. She was very picky about how it was done. He just wanted to do it! "You missed a spot!" "Evelyn, would you just let me do it?" "I'm just trying to show you that you missed a spot!" (Aaaaarrrrrggggghhhh!)
In retrospect, I think my dad had a pretty severe case of not only depression but stubbornness. The last thing he would have done was visit a marriage counselor, and, heaven forbid, a shrink!!
In those days the only meds they had were valium and such. Antidepressants hadn't even been thought of. And when women complained, they weren't helped, just told to go buy a new hat. Aaarrrggghhh again!!
I have a black and white picture of the two of them sitting on two wicker chairs in "Kaiser's Cottage", a beach house we rented each summer. They look like two movie stars, and the energy you can see between them is electrifying. So, I know it was there..too bad it went....
Mom and dad met in Springfield, Mass. He was working at Westinghouse after graduating from VMI. She at Meekins, Packard, and Wheat (don't know nothin' about that place!) Not sure how long they courted, but the day they married, a boyfriend came by the house and asked to see Evelyn. My grandmother told him she had eloped. His response: "Well, guess I'll go play golf!" She loved to tell that story!
Monday, July 12, 2010
It has taken me 20 minutes to start today's blog....poor Nonny is computer challenged and suffering from a broken AC. Glad to have a fan blowing, but praying that the broken part will be installed today! Praying also that when I want to write again I'm able to remember what brought me to this site!
ADHD as I am, my writings will jump from subject to subject. I'll write what I feel like writing. A conversation with my family is often disconnected. We're all that way; we all can follow each other and get through the day with minimum misunderstanding..... How's that for passing on crazy traits?
I have always been happy for my "Lot in Life", never envied anyone. Growing up I had the "things" I needed, an abundance of good food to eat, decent clothes, 25 cents to go to the Saturday Matinee....It made no difference to me that my friends' parents could give them cashmere sweaters, jalopies to drive, lived in a bigger house and rubbed elbows with the elite.
My dad worked for the government, brought home a reasonable wage and distinguished himself to the point where he received the President's Award for Distinguished Civilian Service, awarded to him by President Dwight D. Eisenhower. He was a co-inventor of the Proximity Fuse, second only to the Atom Bomb in ending "The War". We'd be rich, had they allowed him to profit from the 11 patents which he held....Since they were developed while working for the government, that was not allowed. Didn't matter to him in the least!
Maybe that's where I got my disdain for the "elites", the people who look down on others less fortunate monetarily. It only happened once or twice in my upbringing, but my dad's accomplishments were always there for me to secretly fall back on.... We knew who we were!
All that came back to me when we moved to Fredericksburg in 1968. I was introduced to a lady who considered herself Fredericksburg's upper class. I understood the concept: There are upper class people here, and they're just like the rest of us, some nice, some kinda "snooty". Well, this lady was nice, and she said to me in a kindly way, "I will introduce you to the best people"........My reply: "Thank you, but I already know them". I wince as I recall my response! What an awful thing to say to someone who was really just being friendly, was, actually paying me a compliment!! I still feel bad about it.
My conservative upbringing was a bonus when I began my married life. Charlie and I started out with "early attic" furnishings, most of which I still have today. My love for antiques started in my childhood and has grown to almost an obsession in my later years! Used furniture did us nicely. We became bargain hunters from the git-go, and I've probably set foot in a new furniture store less than a dozen times in my life!
Our children and grandchildren inherited the "junkin-yardsale-thriftstore-Goodwill genes". To my knowledge, none of them owe their souls to a furniture store! (Makes me very proud!)...and they will have plenty of my "stuff" to fight over after I'm gone... They'd better NOT or I'll haunt them!!
So here I sit in my beautiful home, surrounded by beautiful things I've bought for a pittance or inherited, and I am smugly happy! My dilemma, though, is trying to keep temptation at bay when I spot another bargain.
My walls are adorned with oil paintings...(some from the Goodwill store in Hawaii, costing from 10 to 25 dollars!) I buy them from yard sales, "Junque" stores, very few from galleries. My children have been instructed to list "art collector" in my obituary! I have a few good prints in my collection, but none in the "new" category.
They are all framed, and I have discovered that if I keep picture sizes written down in my address book, there are beautiful frames available in cheapie stores. I just remove the cheapie pictures and frame mine. No one's the wiser!!
My champagne-taste-on-a beer-budget has served me well. My family has inherited the genes, and they are able to choose well with their "cheap genes". That, too, makes me smugly happy!!
My computer has swallowed me up enough for today. Tomorrow I'll do what I do best: Jump to another subject. What will it be? I'll surprise myself...always do!
ADHD as I am, my writings will jump from subject to subject. I'll write what I feel like writing. A conversation with my family is often disconnected. We're all that way; we all can follow each other and get through the day with minimum misunderstanding..... How's that for passing on crazy traits?
I have always been happy for my "Lot in Life", never envied anyone. Growing up I had the "things" I needed, an abundance of good food to eat, decent clothes, 25 cents to go to the Saturday Matinee....It made no difference to me that my friends' parents could give them cashmere sweaters, jalopies to drive, lived in a bigger house and rubbed elbows with the elite.
My dad worked for the government, brought home a reasonable wage and distinguished himself to the point where he received the President's Award for Distinguished Civilian Service, awarded to him by President Dwight D. Eisenhower. He was a co-inventor of the Proximity Fuse, second only to the Atom Bomb in ending "The War". We'd be rich, had they allowed him to profit from the 11 patents which he held....Since they were developed while working for the government, that was not allowed. Didn't matter to him in the least!
Maybe that's where I got my disdain for the "elites", the people who look down on others less fortunate monetarily. It only happened once or twice in my upbringing, but my dad's accomplishments were always there for me to secretly fall back on.... We knew who we were!
All that came back to me when we moved to Fredericksburg in 1968. I was introduced to a lady who considered herself Fredericksburg's upper class. I understood the concept: There are upper class people here, and they're just like the rest of us, some nice, some kinda "snooty". Well, this lady was nice, and she said to me in a kindly way, "I will introduce you to the best people"........My reply: "Thank you, but I already know them". I wince as I recall my response! What an awful thing to say to someone who was really just being friendly, was, actually paying me a compliment!! I still feel bad about it.
My conservative upbringing was a bonus when I began my married life. Charlie and I started out with "early attic" furnishings, most of which I still have today. My love for antiques started in my childhood and has grown to almost an obsession in my later years! Used furniture did us nicely. We became bargain hunters from the git-go, and I've probably set foot in a new furniture store less than a dozen times in my life!
Our children and grandchildren inherited the "junkin-yardsale-thriftstore-Goodwill genes". To my knowledge, none of them owe their souls to a furniture store! (Makes me very proud!)...and they will have plenty of my "stuff" to fight over after I'm gone... They'd better NOT or I'll haunt them!!
So here I sit in my beautiful home, surrounded by beautiful things I've bought for a pittance or inherited, and I am smugly happy! My dilemma, though, is trying to keep temptation at bay when I spot another bargain.
My walls are adorned with oil paintings...(some from the Goodwill store in Hawaii, costing from 10 to 25 dollars!) I buy them from yard sales, "Junque" stores, very few from galleries. My children have been instructed to list "art collector" in my obituary! I have a few good prints in my collection, but none in the "new" category.
They are all framed, and I have discovered that if I keep picture sizes written down in my address book, there are beautiful frames available in cheapie stores. I just remove the cheapie pictures and frame mine. No one's the wiser!!
My champagne-taste-on-a beer-budget has served me well. My family has inherited the genes, and they are able to choose well with their "cheap genes". That, too, makes me smugly happy!!
My computer has swallowed me up enough for today. Tomorrow I'll do what I do best: Jump to another subject. What will it be? I'll surprise myself...always do!
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Musings of Nonny
I like to write. When I was in high school I was accused of taking my writings from another person's essay: "Your words, Betty?" jotted in the margin of my much hated term paper, for instance! I am now and always was a free thinker, which wasn't always the wisest thing to reveal during my education years.
That comment insulted me greatly...I didn't particularly like Miss March. She would call on the same brown-nosing intellectuals and leave those of us who had occasional brilliant things to add to the discussion with our hands in the air. And, of course, when we hadn't a clue what she was talking about, we were called on.
So I wrote, since I always had something to say (then and now!) and got accused of plagiarism!
And I wrote that STUPID term paper, and I did it MY way....(Outline? Who needs one?) All the steps we were instructed to do and turn in with the paper I did after it was completed and kept my mouth shut. It was good...I liked it...I got a B... Wrote the damn thing three nights before it was due.
We studied Beowulf....We were supposed to read it. I didn't. I bluffed my way through essay questions from the discussions I had listened to in class. And, just as I suspected, she didn't read the exams of us ordinary girls who found more to be enthusiastic about in boys than that stuff; besides, I didn't understand it!
Intellectual I'm not. I ran around with the "Eggheads" in my class, but couldn't compete. Must have fooled them with my common sense. That I have! They made great friends, and I have some of them to this day, (except for the ones who died!)
They all went to college. Falls Church was a Washington bedroom community. We were all middle class, our parents worked mainly for the government. It was expected and assumed we would go on to higher education, and most of us did. Some went on to do exceptional things with their lives. I, in my own way, did, too.
Blogging further re my plagiarism accusation, I very early on had a lesson in that regard. I had to take Latin. Everyone did. I had a large assignment that I had put off, as was my usual way. My next door neighbor was a sweet, round little boy named Michael, who was a natural Latin Scholar. He offered to translate for me, and, naturally I accepted. Brought the translation to my front door and asked my DAD to give it to me. And he did:
My dad said "Betty, this is WRONG....Don't you ever do something like this again!"........I never ever feared my dad. He was kind, never raised his voice. I was his daughter and always knew how much he loved (and yes, respected me). So, that was all he ever had to say to me....ever!!!
He made it clear that life would be ever-so-much easier if I chose the "right" path, the right thing to do in a circumstance. There were times I thought his honesty to be extreme, but he never wavered.
So, in my house, I did my own homework. I didn't do homework for anyone else, either, you can be sure! A poor grade we would live with: Cheating? Never! Some of my friends did wonderful projects, clearly aided by their parents, and got A's. Me, never! My B or C was always good enough. To this day, I'm not sure what might have been the outcome for me had I been aided by my parents, pushed to achieve. Doesn't matter, though; a clear conscience brings a pleasant night's sleep....
Years later, my dear Charlie and I went to Toys R Us to Christmas shop. We spent $60.00, an enormous amount in the 60's. Loading the car, we had a huge box with a spin-around toy, and Charlie opened it to take it out to save room in the trunk. There were TWO in the box! We had three kids, two of whom would share the toy. Back in to the store he went to return the second one....no hesitation. Didn't surprise me...
So, maybe I'm a bit sensitive about things like this, but I sure wouldn't ever want to hurt my dad like that again!
That comment insulted me greatly...I didn't particularly like Miss March. She would call on the same brown-nosing intellectuals and leave those of us who had occasional brilliant things to add to the discussion with our hands in the air. And, of course, when we hadn't a clue what she was talking about, we were called on.
So I wrote, since I always had something to say (then and now!) and got accused of plagiarism!
And I wrote that STUPID term paper, and I did it MY way....(Outline? Who needs one?) All the steps we were instructed to do and turn in with the paper I did after it was completed and kept my mouth shut. It was good...I liked it...I got a B... Wrote the damn thing three nights before it was due.
We studied Beowulf....We were supposed to read it. I didn't. I bluffed my way through essay questions from the discussions I had listened to in class. And, just as I suspected, she didn't read the exams of us ordinary girls who found more to be enthusiastic about in boys than that stuff; besides, I didn't understand it!
Intellectual I'm not. I ran around with the "Eggheads" in my class, but couldn't compete. Must have fooled them with my common sense. That I have! They made great friends, and I have some of them to this day, (except for the ones who died!)
They all went to college. Falls Church was a Washington bedroom community. We were all middle class, our parents worked mainly for the government. It was expected and assumed we would go on to higher education, and most of us did. Some went on to do exceptional things with their lives. I, in my own way, did, too.
Blogging further re my plagiarism accusation, I very early on had a lesson in that regard. I had to take Latin. Everyone did. I had a large assignment that I had put off, as was my usual way. My next door neighbor was a sweet, round little boy named Michael, who was a natural Latin Scholar. He offered to translate for me, and, naturally I accepted. Brought the translation to my front door and asked my DAD to give it to me. And he did:
My dad said "Betty, this is WRONG....Don't you ever do something like this again!"........I never ever feared my dad. He was kind, never raised his voice. I was his daughter and always knew how much he loved (and yes, respected me). So, that was all he ever had to say to me....ever!!!
He made it clear that life would be ever-so-much easier if I chose the "right" path, the right thing to do in a circumstance. There were times I thought his honesty to be extreme, but he never wavered.
So, in my house, I did my own homework. I didn't do homework for anyone else, either, you can be sure! A poor grade we would live with: Cheating? Never! Some of my friends did wonderful projects, clearly aided by their parents, and got A's. Me, never! My B or C was always good enough. To this day, I'm not sure what might have been the outcome for me had I been aided by my parents, pushed to achieve. Doesn't matter, though; a clear conscience brings a pleasant night's sleep....
Years later, my dear Charlie and I went to Toys R Us to Christmas shop. We spent $60.00, an enormous amount in the 60's. Loading the car, we had a huge box with a spin-around toy, and Charlie opened it to take it out to save room in the trunk. There were TWO in the box! We had three kids, two of whom would share the toy. Back in to the store he went to return the second one....no hesitation. Didn't surprise me...
So, maybe I'm a bit sensitive about things like this, but I sure wouldn't ever want to hurt my dad like that again!
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