I held back the lump in my throat as I hurried through the front door and made my way to my bedroom. I could not breathe and my head felt like it was going to explode if I didn’t let go and cry soon but I just couldn’t, yet.
I quietly closed the door to my room layed down on the bed burying my face in the pillow and cried hysterically until I fell asleep. About thirty minutes later I woke hearing the sound of my father’s voice as he returned home from work. I flew of the bed and ran to him, once again crying hysterically. He wrapped his arms around me asking why I was crying. It took a few minutes before i was able to calm down enough for him to understand me. “Dad, Dr. Y said he has to sell Babe because they are moving!. What am I going to do? How can he do this to me when he knows how much I love her”? (Babe was the horse that our town’s “bone” doctor had bought for his grandkids but after they moved away I began taking care of her. I had spent every waking moment that I could with her, even if it was just sitting in the pasture doing my homework while she ate. When summer came my girlfriends who had their own horses and I rode all day everyday. We rode down to the river and up to the lake. We rode through the pear orchards and along the railroad tracks. We played pony express in the pasture and even camped out in my back yard with the horses there too. When Babe and I were alone i told her everything. Whenever there was going to be a gymkhana we would clean stalls at the fairgrounds to earn enough money to enter . It didn’t matter that we did not have a horse trailer like the other people did, we simply just rode our horses to the gymkhana. In fact only two of the girls had saddles but they let us use them when it was our turn to do an event. We didn’t have fancy tack or saddles or even cowboy boots but we loved being together and we definitely loved our horses. It was the best summer ever!)
As I stood there sobbing in my dad’s arms he said “you should not let yourself get so upset over something you have no control over. If the doctor has to sell Babe there is nothing you can do about it”. I said “But Dad, I want to keep her .” As soon as my dad her those two words, I WANT, he said “WELL I GUESS YA OUGHT TO GET A JOB THEN” ” D-a-a-d please be serious”. He began telling me about how expensive horses are and all that owning one entails. I argued my side of it and began begging and pleading. Finally my father says “o.k” I’ll make a deal with you. Anything I have ever wanted and got I had to work for. You get a job and you can have the horse.” I made him swear and pinky promise which he did but with a slight smirk on his face thinking of the deal he had just made with a TEN YEAR OLD LITTLE GIRL. We had dinner then I did my homework and went to bed, again, crying until I fell asleep.
The next day my dad was already home from work when I got there. He kiddingly said ‘well did ya get a job yet? I told him all about how I had gone to every house I could think and asked if they needed a sitter or if they had any work at all I could do for them, but had no luck. When my gramps saw how dissappointed I was he gave me a couple of quarters to get us a soda from the machine across the street at the transmission shop. While I was there I was telling the mechanics about how bad I wanted a job and how hard I would work everyday just to have Babe. The owner overheard my story and asked if I would be interested in helping out around there. He said I could come a few days a week to clean the office and bathrooms but I had to always be there on time and do a good job and that my school work had to be finished first and my parents had to give their permission and I of course told him that yes I would love to do it. Suddenly the reality of what I was actually saying to my father hit me and I screamed this blood curling scream “Oh my gosh!! Dad! I did it !! I got a job!!! Babe is going to be so happy!! I bet you never thought I could do it, huh? but I did!!! I mimicked him as i put my hand on my hip and said “that’ll learn ya to make a deal like that with me again huh”? Dad grinned proudly gave me a huge hug and told me he was very proud of me. The transmission shop paid me $ 1.50 an hour. I worked there for the next two years until my family moved across town and every penny I made went to taking care of BABE.
A little about Me.
I am a country girl who also loves getting to wear my heels and dresses. I have three of the most beautiful girls, (which leads me to believe that it’s true that ‘the homeliest parents do make the best looking kids) My oldest daughter blessed me with three adorable granddaughters and one adorable grandson. To them I am Grami. But I only wear the title of Grami I don’t actually get to be one because they live two thousand miles away. I have always been referred to as bubbly, energetic, friendly and a people person but I prefer spending most of my time alone; I think I always have.
For my 8th birthday, my Gram, who called me her “brown-eyed beauty”, gave me two gifts. One was Little Women by L.M. Alcott . T he second gift was a hot pink diary that locked. Receiving those two things, especially from my Gram, has always meant so much to me because after reading the story of Jo and her sisters I began to LOVE reading and I read every heart-felt book I could get my hands on. However, to this day Little Women is still my favorite novel! With the diary I discovered that writing was something I really loved as well. I wrote short stories, I wrote about events in my life, my dreams, hopes, and ideas. My journals were like having the most trustworthy friend you could tell anything .So no matter what was going on in my life, no matter where I live, what my age is or even how busy my life might be I will always write in my journals.
Blogging- when I discovered WordPress I was so excited because I thought this would be the perfect place for me to ‘write’ about things I would like to share . Either as a source for having my writing critiqued by others, or so that i might share interesting facts and data that I am certain others like me are not aware of. However,since joining WP I have been inspired to do much more with my writing than originally intended . When i wrote DAD part 1 i was , in my mind, merely writing in my journal and i was shocked, surprised and quite delighted at the positive response i received. It made me feel like i am truly a part of a wonderful community of bloggers, called WORDPRESS. Thank you everyone.
Every time i did something like trip over my own two feet or spill my milk at dinner Dad would say “atta’ boy” and when i began a sentence with “I want….” Dad’s response was “guess ya ought to get a job”. I can’t count the number of times he said both of those things to me. So whats the big deal? Right? Most of you have heard the same thing from your dad. But when my dad said it, people chuckled. They really got a kick out of hearing him say atta boy, and get a job to me. Why? Because I am a girl and only 7 or 8 years old at the time.!! So ya, it was silly for him to say those things to me but i never blinked an eye at its oddity. Sometimes, he would be calling for me but would accidently call out the names of my siblings first, i would hear him say Kim! I mean Dee, oh heck Samantha come here please. This was also a pretty goofy thing for him to call me beings my name is not Samantha nor is anyone in my family. We have all done it. We have called one of our children the name of one of our other kids, but dad sometimes would act like he forgot my name which is extremely ha ha beings we basically have the same name. Robert and Roberta.No dad did not have dimentia or any other form of memory loss it was just his way of razzing me . Just like when he would say “Hey motormouth, if you will stop talking for two minutes i will give you a dollar. I never did earn that dollar but at least he got a minute and a half of silence each time.
Dad is a very large man. Not real tall, but just a big person. The boys i grew up with or dated all said he was very intimidating .i was very tiny as a child and never felt even slightly intimidated by his size or strength. i respected him but did not fear him
We think of a homeless person as those grungy people sitting out on the side of the streets holding up signs or begging in front of a store or walking down the road carrying on a conversation with imaginary people. That is the image that comes to mind for most of us. But these people are Vagrants/Drifters. Some are the mentally ill that our politicians kicked out in to the world when they closed the doors on all the institutions. But most are those who have chosen not to have a job or a roof over their heads..
A “homeless” person does not sit on the side of the road with a sign, they do not beg, nor ask for hand-outs. A homeless person is embarrassed by their situation and would never advertise it. A homeless person is someone who has been removed from their home for whatever reason. It could have been a divorce, loss of a job, a fire, a shady landlord, or a ruthless realtor. Or they could have lost their home because they were swindled out of it by people who used the death of a child to instigate getting what they wanted.
A homeless person has pride, They are good hard working people that feel shame and humiliation for allowing themselves to end up in the situation they are in; but they strive every minute of every day hoping, dreaming, and working towards one again being able to hold their heads up and have a place to call home.
A little GIRL who dreamed of someday graduating from a college university, had a less than perfect childhood, and began supporting herself at age 16. SHE graduated a year early from high school, with honors, so at age 17 SHE was a F/T employee and a F/T college student. At 18,after hearing that HER older sister was not going to complete the last 3 months of business college due to no childcare, SHE left school and HER job to go help HER sister 2000 miles away. Six months later SHE returned and went back to work and school, both full time. Not long after that HER grandfather became ill. So, once again SHE put HER life and HER dreams on hold to leave the state. Once he was back on his feet SHE returned to HER life of school and work. However, this time SHE also had the responsibility of caring for and supporting HER sister who was ten years younger. SHE made sure that HER little sister needed for nothing .Even if that meant cutting back on HER classes/credits. WELL it is now ten years later and the little GIRL with the dream has NEVER given up. SHE still strives every day to succeed in reaching that goal. HER gpa has always been 4.0. SHE is a role model for little girls around the world. by always conducting HERSELF as a lady, having the highest of morals, and always striving to do HER best; no matter what the task might be . SHE is described by all, as the most beautiful person inside and out, the most altruistic, benevolent, sincerely kind person you will ever know. Yet in spite of all this, she may not fulfill her dream because of the enormous cost in calif. to attend a university. IF you are NOT a minority, IF you are NOT getting welfare, IF you do NOT have children out of wedlock and IF you work hard enough to get paid more than minimum wage, THEN YOU ARE ON YOUR OWN TO PAY FOR COLLEGE!! It is SAD AND DISAPPOINTING that millionaires will help a reformed prisoner or a junkie in rehab go to college but not someone as outstanding as this young lady. IT JUST MAKES NO SENSE AT ALL