And just like that, Diane didn’t come to see her grandma anymore. No one ever told me why and I never asked, and I can’t remember who was there, watching us do this, but I remember they were encouraging us. As an adult, not being able to remember this haunts me, in many ways. I’ve read that it’s your brain’s way of protecting you from the trauma.
After that, I recall being super curious about male anatomy. I recall hiding in a bathroom clothes hamper to watch my dad undress for his shower wanting to see what he looked like naked. He found me and I was escorted out, but why? Why would a child (aged 5 or 6?) be THAT curious?
What REALLY happened that my brain won’t let me remember?
I was really happy when David moved out. Not because I wanted him to leave, because my sister Dottie, her husband, Paul, and the kids were moving in!
My sisters and brother have a different father than I do, and they were older than me. My sister’s oldest child is 3 years younger than me, so playing with her kids was like playing with my siblings. And they were moving in next door!
Chapter 2
Dad’s sick
Remember I said, "the balls were always in the air"? Well, even though my sister lived right next door, things were not great at home.
I don’t remember how they told me, but I think I must’ve asked why my dad didn’t work and my mom told me, “Dad’s sick Terri.” “He can’t work.”
My dad had congestive heart failure and COPD. His CHF was a result of three broken vertebrae in his back when he was just three years old. It resulted in him being "barrel chested" which allowed fluid to build up around his heart. The COPD a result of years of heavy smoking non-filtered cigarettes. Both my parents smoked.
Now, as a kid, I didn't know what any of that meant, but I knew he couldn't walk to the mailbox without being out of breath, he couldn't tie his shoes without a struggle, but he gave the best hugs ever. And he sang fun songs to me on the way to school.
All I really remember is knowing (like from the time I can remember, so REALLY young) that someday he was going to die. So, every day I came home from school and he was there and not in the hospital was a sigh of relief for me.
I'm sure I hovered and smothered him because I needed him to know how much I loved him if he was going to die soon. And that was what I thought. My dad could die any day. Would it be today? Tomorrow? Next week?
My mom was the breadwinner as he couldn't work, so often she would work double shifts to keep our finances somewhat okay. That left me feeling as if it were MY job to take care of daddy, make sure he's breathing okay, check on him if he naps that he's breathing. I don’t recall Mom ever telling me to do this, but I FELT that way.
We took a trip to Oklahoma when I was about 7. I remember they checked me out of school for two whole weeks. I met my dad’s relatives on that trip and by then, my dad was on oxygen and had a tank with him on the trip.
I fell in love with being a country girl. My dad’s aunt Chris was a seamstress in town. People brought stuff for her to make her from all over the area. I felt like I was really living “Little House on the Prairie” and she made me a couple dresses with matching bonnets, just like Laura and Mary wore.
There were so many firsts on that trip. I saw my first pond, cow, chicken coop. My great uncle Elton would collect the eggs every morning. I tagged along. Chicken coops REALLY stink, but I was so enamored of this country way, even as a young child.
My dad took me fishing at the big pond (there were 3 ponds on the property) and we were just using cane poles. The big pond had a pier, or was it a deck? I’m not sure what you’d call it, but I had sat down on it to fish off the end. There was a strip of wood along the bottom, so I tucked my feet behind it. When I went to cast my line, I fell in the pond. My dad fished me out by the hair on my head. I vividly recall being so mad! I stamped, soaking wet, all the way back to the house. (And we had to trudge through a HUGE field to get back). Dad laughed the whole time. That made me even more mad. But as I sit and write this now, I’m laughing too. It had to be quite a sight.
I saw my first thunderstorm, with lighting so bright, it lit up the whole countryside. Had my first homemade biscuits and gravy, slept with an open window, listening to the nighttime sounds of the crickets and cicadas play their melodies as I drifted off to sleep. Saw my first lightning bug.
I was sad when we headed back home to California.
I realize now that the trip was for my dad. He might not get another chance to say goodbye or see his family again. And he needed that. And I think he wanted to give me that experience too.
Chapter 3
Orange County Here We Come
I loved Baptist Day School and I loved our church, so when mom said we were moving I was
