What defines me?

Cancer , A Dozen Kids , Life, Struggle

On and adventure in the middle of the night I ended up out in sodus in this quiet little mobile home community. Telling my daughter that as a child I called this home. I reflected on memories of the little white go cart my grandpa Joe had won. He had signed up on some pc of paper in a grocery store. Truth be told I am positive my grandma signed his name but he won! He gave it to my little brother Dustin. My grandpa loved that boy with all that he was. He would watch us do circles and just laugh and laugh. As my grandpa was an incredibly obese man it wasn’t to often he got up and moving on his own free will. However if one of us beloved grandkids asked to get that go cart up he was leaping from his chair to get it out and started. I say it went about 8-10 miles per hour but as a kid it felt like 50 miles per hour and I held on for dear life around each corner as if we were in a hot rod. Oh the many omelette I can remember being prepared in the kitchen. Or the nights my grandma would read chitty chitty bang bang to me and scratch my back. She had the best nails for back scratches. I was taught to knit, sew, plastic canvas, quilt all by my grandma. I remember going over and just saying grandma what can I craft today! She would save me jars and little extras of scrap stuff from projects she was working on and I would just create masterpieces. It was my favorite childhood home. The one I felt most loved and welcome. I even had fond memories of my dad there. The bio dad he lived there a few times I think after bad break ups or financial mishaps. I remember him helping me make a project for school there one time. We worked on it for several days. It was a lighthouse and it was absolutely perfect. I thought of sabotaging it in the middle of the night in hopes he would stay to help rebuild it but when I woke to do the damage he was already gone. I remember my grandma’s flowers around her trees in the yard and her little garden she would grow. I would go outside often and help it was her who I learned the container garden from that I later used when I wasn’t living in a home I was allowed to garden in. My grandma took me on my first dates to the movies the celebration cinema. It looked nothing of how it does now in the 90s and what I thought was crazy expensive then seems like a cheap bargain now. Memories last night driving through the park were insane. I remember the pain my grandpa experienced when the contact with my little brother was taken from him. When my father thought that giving his child up was worth it if he no longer would have the child support taken from his check. It was a battle to him already to see his son so he choose the easier road. It is safe to say that I am filled with resentment still for his choice. His choice had a huge impact on me…. on my grandpa….

One thought on “Meadow Streams

  1. kkrokaa says:

    So sad, but still such melancholic nostalgia ❤

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