Saturday, March 31, 2007
Early Years, Shaping and Molding: Expanded with Additions
Children; I have added to the post linked below and included other old stories and family doings as you have asked. I am glad that you are interested in how we did things "back in the old days". I will create a new post later about other times of my childhood. These stories are not only a part of our family history, they are a part of our nation's history from the perspective of the common people.
Click on the link below to access the post.
THERE WAS AN OLD WOMAN: Early Years, Shaping and Molding
Click on the link below to access the post.
THERE WAS AN OLD WOMAN: Early Years, Shaping and Molding
Labels: early years - shaping and molding - additions
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Brilliance of Red!
The old woman is excited tonight and very happy. My new hibiscus bush I set in the window is opening a brilliant red blossom! Every time I leave the computer and go to the living room, I find that the bud is rapidly unfolding more and more. I think that by dawn it will be completely open, showing its lovely red face with yellow stamen to me and Sheba.
I love plants and I love to grow things. I do miss my gardens at my home so very much, but it had become impossible for me to keep them up before I finally moved. They certainly were no longer fit for garden weddings any more as they had been in the past.
Several years ago Jeannie asked me to plant-sit a little hibiscus bush. I feared that the exposure of my double windows would have insufficient sunlight for the plant to thrive, but it proved me wrong. It not only thrived but rewarded me with a continuous cycle of huge red blossoms year around. In the protected confines of the apartment it was impervious to winter and never went dormant. The first time it bloomed I called my friend to come down for coffee and let's celebrate the magnificience of red. She thought I was nuts but amiably agreed the bloom was lovely.
I derived so much pleasure from that hibiscus bush. Even though I deliberately tried to stunt its growth by keeping it root bound, it eventually outgrew the space afforded it. I pruned it back and that was a mistake. It cried out in terror, "Omigod, she's cut off my arms! Grow some more, quickly. Grow! Grow!" and grow it did. It diverted its strength from flowering to limb and leaf production and quickly grew even taller than before, and I got no more lovely red flowers. Jeannie took it to Diana's home where it was planted in the soil. It is now taller than Diana and she says it still blooms the year around.
I have ivies galore in my apartment but I longed for flowers. I didn't purchase a flowering plant last year but a few days ago when a local store had hibiscus for sale, I bought a small one that had a tight green bud. Sometimes it shocks plants to change their environments - from nursery to store to a home - and they will often drop their buds. This one did not and it is already giving me much pleasure. I just might go buy another one. The only place that has room for a second one would be where the aloe vera plant sits, but he might have to go somewhere else.
Two years ago I attended a therapy class for Depression in the Elderly and Handicapped Women. The bright, earnest little Psychiatrist urged us to seek and find pleasure in small things. I suppose she would give me good marks for getting so excited and happy about a flower. But I have always loved flowers and watched every plant burst into bloom in my gardens with great anticipation and pleasure.
I just went to the kitchen for coffee and the blossom is fully opened! It is small but then the plant is young, and it is glorious all the same. I called Gadfly to announce the news and she grumbled about me awakening her "before God is even awake" to tell her about a (bleeping) flower. I assured her that it was pay-back for all the times she awakened me at a similar time just because she was up and about and wanted to chat, even though she knows I am a night owl and sleep late in the mornings. She laughed and said, "Touche!" and was glad that I was happy.
Perhaps it is silly to get so revved up about a flower but I don't care. It has made my day!
Celebrate the Magnificience of Red!
Update: I admit it. I am a pushover. To be so pigheaded, stubborn and strong willed about some things, I am a weak kneed wimp about others. The thoughts of beautiful red flowers in my window haunted my mind. I had to dash to the store for cottage cheese, yogurt and bread, and in so doing passed the display of hibiscus. I resolutely passed it by then caved in and made a U turn. A spine like a wet noodle.
There were two displays, both of young plants. There was the one from which I had selected the present bloomer, and another of plants of similar height but much bushier - at twice the price. One directly in my line of sight was a very bushy one absolutely loaded with buds at all stages of developement. It beckoned me on with a promise of continuing blooms as each bud ripened and opened in turn. Hibiscus blossoms rarely last more than a day, sometimes two, before closing their bright faces into a tubular roll and falling off. So a number of buds of varying ages was a huge temptation. Before reason and common sense could assert itself, I seized the plant, bought it on the spot and eagerly brought it home.
Aloe Vera was arbitrarily relocated and my prize was placed on a small table under the window. It already has a blossom opened so the two plants on matching tables offer a twin glory of red. I am delighted and look forward to more pleasure from the little plants as the summer progresses. It will be some time before they outgrow the space provided for them.
I shouldn't have spent the money, but....man doth not live by bread alone. We must have beauty in our lives; we must have pleasures. I did it and I'm not sorry even if the budget pinches before the month is out.
Hmmm. Now the spider plant hanging between the baskets of pothos is looking poorly and needs replacing. There were pots of blooming bougainvillea at the store also that would just fit in a hanging basket. I wonder if there would be enough sunlight at the window for them to continue to bloom.....? Bougainvillea is a rambler but it will be a long time before one of those small plants outgrew the space. Temptation, temptation. I am like the woman in the joke who was admonished to tell the temptor, Satan, to "get thee behind me Satan" and she replied, "I did, but he whispered in my ear over my shoulder".
He's whispering, he's whispering.
Bougainvillea (grows different colors)
Labels: flowers
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Childhood memories on the CC farm
I have been working on the post about my formative years on the CC farm and am very dissatisfied with it. I added more photos because the younger ones don't know what I am talking about when I mention something , but I could not make the photos go where I wanted them to. Blogger will post pics from left, middle or right but only at the very top. Photobucket will post anywhere I put the html but either at the far left, or if I include the html inside text, it shoves part of my text aside. Drat it. I am considering redoing the entire post.
The children have asked for more stories. This post is a reminder to myself of subjects to cover later.
Working on the post brought back many childhood memories.
Papalote
armadillo at Stintson place.
turkey eggs and nests, finding Xmas gifts,evergreen and water tower
Mineral Wells.
Yellow House farm, careless weeds, Rabbit Ears the bull, the collie dog,tarantula in outhouse, weeds to eat and for medicinal herbs, daddy's turtle, armadillos and baskets, iron stuck to calf. Uncle Dan's place, Young Dan and bears in mesquite woods, falling in pond, ring games parties and uncle Devillar stomping, doll at xmas-ruined by dew, santa at school, xmas stockings. hit by axel and iron tires, daddy and boar, boar at house, daddy in pasture, dark, running to grandmas, spanking, mother always at church. Grandpa Albert Preston. Grandpa Wheeler.
Grandma's house, falling in tub of coals, playing cars and house under china berry trees. aunt Novelle eloping and letter
The children have asked for more stories. This post is a reminder to myself of subjects to cover later.
Working on the post brought back many childhood memories.
Papalote
armadillo at Stintson place.
turkey eggs and nests, finding Xmas gifts,evergreen and water tower
Mineral Wells.
Yellow House farm, careless weeds, Rabbit Ears the bull, the collie dog,tarantula in outhouse, weeds to eat and for medicinal herbs, daddy's turtle, armadillos and baskets, iron stuck to calf. Uncle Dan's place, Young Dan and bears in mesquite woods, falling in pond, ring games parties and uncle Devillar stomping, doll at xmas-ruined by dew, santa at school, xmas stockings. hit by axel and iron tires, daddy and boar, boar at house, daddy in pasture, dark, running to grandmas, spanking, mother always at church. Grandpa Albert Preston. Grandpa Wheeler.
Grandma's house, falling in tub of coals, playing cars and house under china berry trees. aunt Novelle eloping and letter
Labels: Future stories
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Install the Scanner? You've GOT to be Kidding!!
Several years ago Jo bought a flatbed scanner but never installed it. She and Lloyd bought a new computer and a new scanner with more bells and whistles than the flatbed had.I was always whining about wanting a scanner and bugging Jo to scan stuff for me. She said I could have the flatbed, still perfectly new and unused. However, she had misplaced the installation disc and the owner's manual. The flatbed was useless to me without these items.
Now she has purchased another scanner that faxes, copies and prints and scans and walks on water. She has promised me her present scanner, which also does a number of things. ...and most importantly, she actually knows the location of the installation disc and owner's manual! A minor miracle.
There is a hitch in the plans. Neither Jo nor I know anything about installation stuff of machines. That snakes' nest of cables and wires and UMB ports and things behind the physical machines is a vast mystery to us. Lloyd or Terry always had to take care of those chores. Lloyd is in Iraq and Terry is in New York, and his report this A.M. says he is now told his job stint there may be 3 weeks instead of one!
Both Jo and I are in a swivet to have the respective machines installed but we shall have to wait until Terry returns. We both suffer an agony of waiting and frustration, wanting to play with the new toys.
But once Jo's oldie is installed on my Compaq and I learn how to use it, jump back! I have reams of pictures and stuff I want to post to various blogs. Oh Joy!
Labels: scanner
Sketch of the Christ
I like this sketch of the Christ. So many artists depict him as rather effeminate. Here he is drawn much as the common folk of the era must have appeared. Regardless of his blood line of the House of David, he was born into the working class, a peasant type. His life and life style indicates that he was probably a robust man. Living in foreign countries, I have seen many of the Semites who looked much as this man in the drawing.
Labels: art - sketch of christ
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Jo's menagerie on the farmette
I will post text later on spending time at the Farmette in the hinterlands.
I do not have photos of Jo's critters so have downloaded photos from the internet that are like her creatures.
African Guinea Cocks ..The ridge (comb) on their head is hard and their wattles are quite firm.
Odd looking fowl. Note its long eyelashes.
A Guinea fowl, my favorite of all the fowls. Country folk kept guineas as "watch dogs". Guineas maintain all the natural wild instincts of their African origins and set up a terrific alarm clatter when a strange person or animal comes into view. I like to listen to their "pot-rack, pot-rack" calls. They have a number of communication sounds they make. Guineas mate in pairs and will usually not allow an unmated guinea to join their flock. One of Jo's guineas died and I felt so sorry for its mate, trying desperately to join the flock and the others would chase him away. It was so lonely. It is difficult to determine the gender of a guinea, though, so Jo doesn't know whetherto buy a male or female mate. They are such exotic looking fowl. So funny.
A Pearl Keet - about one day old. A baby guinea.
The Pea Hens have drab plumage except for a small amount of color on the neck and breast. Their crown is smaller than the males also. Jo's Pea Hen is named "Miss Peabody".
Spreading his glory!.........................
The incredible beauty of a Pea Cock.
Turkey gobblers. Jo's original turkey tom defended his territory assiduously and never became accustomed to the humans invading the barnyard. He always tried to sneak up behind you and peck you. The women and children had to carry a stick to threaten him with when he tried to peck. His sons, though, were tamer and didn't mind humans around. The blasted dogs finally killed old Tom. Their feathers gleam in bronzes and golds in the sunlight when they spread and strut as in the photo.
Cock of the walk..............
Roosters. Many of Jo's roosters had magnificiently colored, long trailing feathers.
Chicken Hens................
Chicken Hens. Jo had all different breeds of chickens. Since they interbreed indiscriminately, she had quite a variety of mixed breeds. The hens layed eggs prolifically and often Jo would gift me with 6 dozen eggs or more, which I would share with my neighbors here. Dogs broke into the chicken yard several times, killing several dozen of the chickens (3 dozen last time) as well as many other fowl, and once mutilated the pig. Jo and Terry (my younger son, who lives with Jo and Lloyd) treat all the creatures as pets and name each one. When the neighbor dogs killed the three dozen, my son had to dispatch the dying and mutilated and he was terribly distraught. He exclaimed to me, "But Mama. They had names!" That time Jo and Lloyd were in North Dakota on vacation and they cut their time short to rush back to Texas to see about their animals. Jo and Terry are devoted animal lovers.
Pekin duck. I like these. They are funny, waddling around the barnyard. I don't like it when the large drakes force the little mallard hen to mate, though. Jo has a large plastic wading pool in the barnyard for the ducks to bathe and play in. One of the large white ducks mounted a little mallard hen while in the water and she drowned when he held her down too long. Usually the ducks take turn about in the pool, politely waiting until one has completed its bath before entering the water.
Muscovy duck. I am not fond of the muscovies. They are very large ducks and breed like maniacs, hatch numerous eggs and are mean to the smaller ducks. Jo does not prefer the Muscovies and admonished Terry not to allow them to set and hatch eggs. Terry ignotes her and always allows them to hatch eggs. He loves the baby ducks, which are darling, like most baby creatures.
Mallard Ducks, my favorite ones. They are smaller than the white ducks and they make permanent mated couples. When the white ducks pursue the little mallard hen trying to mate with her, the mallard drake frantically tries to fight off the larger male to prevent his wife's violation.
Jo has three pot bellied pigs. Their short, spindly legs appear too small to support the bulk of the animals. Gigi had belonged to my eldest son but his wife abandoned the animal when Walter was hospitalized. My younger son, Terry, captured it and brought it to Jo's animal pen. Gordie was a gift from the Wild Child, about which Jo was not very happy . The third was one Jo obtained when Sissy was a tiny piglet. Baby pigs are so-o cute! Jo kept her in the house in a child's play pen and hand reared her. She was like a baby. Eventually she grew too large for a house pet and had to be placed in the pen outdoors. When dogs broke into the pen and mutilated Sissy, Jo spent over $500 in vet bills on the animal. She loves her Sissy. Pigs are very intelligent animals.
Donkeys like T-Ball. I am not fond of T-Ball but I love to stroke his nose. I love the soft, velvety feel of equine nostrils. Jo calls T-Ball a "cat-donkey" because he loves the dry cat food she puts out for the outdoor farmette cats. He will come to the porch, stretch his neck out as far as it will go and try to reach the cat food. His upper lip appears almost prehensile, he can twist and point it in such odd manoeuvers in picking up a single morsel of cat food spilled to the ground without getting a grain of dirt.
I do not have photos of Jo's critters so have downloaded photos from the internet that are like her creatures.
African Guinea Cocks ..The ridge (comb) on their head is hard and their wattles are quite firm.
Odd looking fowl. Note its long eyelashes.
A Guinea fowl, my favorite of all the fowls. Country folk kept guineas as "watch dogs". Guineas maintain all the natural wild instincts of their African origins and set up a terrific alarm clatter when a strange person or animal comes into view. I like to listen to their "pot-rack, pot-rack" calls. They have a number of communication sounds they make. Guineas mate in pairs and will usually not allow an unmated guinea to join their flock. One of Jo's guineas died and I felt so sorry for its mate, trying desperately to join the flock and the others would chase him away. It was so lonely. It is difficult to determine the gender of a guinea, though, so Jo doesn't know whetherto buy a male or female mate. They are such exotic looking fowl. So funny.
A Pearl Keet - about one day old. A baby guinea.
The Pea Hens have drab plumage except for a small amount of color on the neck and breast. Their crown is smaller than the males also. Jo's Pea Hen is named "Miss Peabody".
Spreading his glory!.........................
The incredible beauty of a Pea Cock.
Turkey gobblers. Jo's original turkey tom defended his territory assiduously and never became accustomed to the humans invading the barnyard. He always tried to sneak up behind you and peck you. The women and children had to carry a stick to threaten him with when he tried to peck. His sons, though, were tamer and didn't mind humans around. The blasted dogs finally killed old Tom. Their feathers gleam in bronzes and golds in the sunlight when they spread and strut as in the photo.
Cock of the walk..............
Roosters. Many of Jo's roosters had magnificiently colored, long trailing feathers.
Chicken Hens................
Chicken Hens. Jo had all different breeds of chickens. Since they interbreed indiscriminately, she had quite a variety of mixed breeds. The hens layed eggs prolifically and often Jo would gift me with 6 dozen eggs or more, which I would share with my neighbors here. Dogs broke into the chicken yard several times, killing several dozen of the chickens (3 dozen last time) as well as many other fowl, and once mutilated the pig. Jo and Terry (my younger son, who lives with Jo and Lloyd) treat all the creatures as pets and name each one. When the neighbor dogs killed the three dozen, my son had to dispatch the dying and mutilated and he was terribly distraught. He exclaimed to me, "But Mama. They had names!" That time Jo and Lloyd were in North Dakota on vacation and they cut their time short to rush back to Texas to see about their animals. Jo and Terry are devoted animal lovers.
Pekin duck. I like these. They are funny, waddling around the barnyard. I don't like it when the large drakes force the little mallard hen to mate, though. Jo has a large plastic wading pool in the barnyard for the ducks to bathe and play in. One of the large white ducks mounted a little mallard hen while in the water and she drowned when he held her down too long. Usually the ducks take turn about in the pool, politely waiting until one has completed its bath before entering the water.
Muscovy duck. I am not fond of the muscovies. They are very large ducks and breed like maniacs, hatch numerous eggs and are mean to the smaller ducks. Jo does not prefer the Muscovies and admonished Terry not to allow them to set and hatch eggs. Terry ignotes her and always allows them to hatch eggs. He loves the baby ducks, which are darling, like most baby creatures.
Mallard Ducks, my favorite ones. They are smaller than the white ducks and they make permanent mated couples. When the white ducks pursue the little mallard hen trying to mate with her, the mallard drake frantically tries to fight off the larger male to prevent his wife's violation.
Jo has three pot bellied pigs. Their short, spindly legs appear too small to support the bulk of the animals. Gigi had belonged to my eldest son but his wife abandoned the animal when Walter was hospitalized. My younger son, Terry, captured it and brought it to Jo's animal pen. Gordie was a gift from the Wild Child, about which Jo was not very happy . The third was one Jo obtained when Sissy was a tiny piglet. Baby pigs are so-o cute! Jo kept her in the house in a child's play pen and hand reared her. She was like a baby. Eventually she grew too large for a house pet and had to be placed in the pen outdoors. When dogs broke into the pen and mutilated Sissy, Jo spent over $500 in vet bills on the animal. She loves her Sissy. Pigs are very intelligent animals.
Labels: farmette menagerie- creatures
Friday, March 02, 2007
A Blessed Miracle; A Near Heartbreak
My eldest son was married first to a woman nicknamed Bozo. Bozo had a head of black hair so curly it was frizzy and so thick it stuck out from her head like that of Bozo the Clown, hence her nickname by the other young folks. Their union produced a girl child, Chrissy, who grew up to have a near genius IQ.
Chrissy was a beautiful young woman with creamy skin, brown eyes and thick, straight hair that revealed her Native American heritage from paternal and maternal sides of the family. She displayed her intelligence at an early age. She began teaching herself to read at age 3 and by the time she was 6 she was often called upon in Church to read the weekly Bible lesson. She was in the Gifted and Talented class in school and showed tremendous promise. We were very proud of Chrissie and had great hopes for her future.
After her father remarried and her younger sister was born, she was grieved by the severe handicaps Boops suffered. See post below "20 years of heartbreak, oceans of tears".
She developed an ambition to become a research physician to work on brain injuries. However, romance put her ambitions on hold. She bore a boy child and quickly became pregnant again. She determined to complete her education and fulfill her ambitions after her second child would be born.
My best friend's son, Boozer, entered our family circle at age 4 and was "adopted" by love. I called him my foster son and he spent a lot of time in my care and was included in all family get togethers. After my son and Bozo were divorced, Bozo married Boozer and they continued in the family circle.
Shortly after Christmas about ten years ago, Chrissy,her husband, Jason, and the baby, Brandon, came to visit me. They had spent Christmas with Mary, Boops and the other 2 children. I wanted to take pictures but was out of film so promised to get photos on their next visit. I could not know that I would never see them alive again, except for baby Brandon
A few weeks later Mary and Lonnie awakened me quite early with tragic news. The night before, Jason and Boozer had gone to pick Chrissy up from work. On the way home, the car left the road on a sharp curve and head ended into a concrete culvert. None of them were wearing seat belts and all may have survived if they had. Fortunately baby Brandon had been left at home with his aunt so was not with them.
Boozer was driving; the steering wheel broke off and the steering column crushed Boozer's chest, killing him instantly. He had been in the family as a member for over 40 years. We still talk about him and miss him. He was a character.
Jason struck the windshield and ended up crumpled under the dashboard on the passenger side. He died later from head injuries. He was a big, husky, handsome boy and loved our Chrissy very much. He was a good Daddy to Brandon.
Our beautiful, intelligent, talented Chrissy was in the back seat and was ejected from the car, either through the broken windshield or through the open passenger side window. Severe injuries to her hands and arms showed that she had instinctively put out her hands to protect herself before her face smashed into the hard ground. The paramedics assured us that she had died upon impact but the bruises she suffered proved to me that she had lived a short time. Bruises are caused by bleeding into the tissues and the dead do not bleed. I could only hope that she was unconscious until she died. Her unborn child died with her.
Four deaths (counting the baby) and three funerals were a hard time to bear.
Over ten years later we almost lost Chrissy's little sister, our Nea, in a car wreck that could have caused similar injuries to her that Chrissy suffered.
Nea and three other teenagers were riding and none had on seat belts. The young boy driving lost control of the car and left the road. Witnesses said the car first flipped end over end then rolled over from side to side, landing upside down in a ditch of muddy water. The unrestrained teeners richocheted from front to back repeatedly. Both drivers' side windows and front passenger side windows were broken out and the windshield was broken and almost knocked out. Had it broken away, it is probable that some of the children would have been ejected through the opening. The outcome could have been tragic.
When Nea got her wits about her, she crawled out the rear drivers' side window. She was wet and muddy but alive. She has bruises and scrapes, must wear a sling and knee brace for awhile but thank God sustained no serious injuries. The other three children escaped with just bruises and scrapes. All were extremely fortunate.
The police said that no drugs nor alcohol were involved; just teen age high spirits and a teen boy showing out for the girls.
When Mary got the call from the hospital she could not go immediately because of the time consuming efforts to load Boops, so her brother went for her, leaving her in a frantic state. When she saw wet, muddy, bandaged Nea, she about lost it.
Not again, not another one, not like Chrissy. But Nea was alive and well.
There is no terror, no pain, no grief as that of a parent (or grandparent) who loses a child. And no relief so profound as to to discover that the child is safe and whole.
(Mary lost her first child, little Charlie, who drowned and was crushed between the pier pilings and her father's yacht at age 3. Then the nightmare of Boop's ordeal, followed by her stepdaughter Chrissy's death. There is no wonder that she almost "lost it".)
Nea learned a valuable lesson: wear seat belts. The fear she experienced as the car wrecked and she and the others were thrown violently from front to back in the car made her understand the importance of seat belts. She also announced to her mother that she was going to start going back to church. Heh! Put the fear of God in her, too!
Nea in 2005.
Nea and her mother Christmas 2006
View of the wrecked car. It looks surprisingly good considering
the number of times it rolled. Some of the rolling that
witnesses described may have been mid-air spins.
Only the rear passenger window remained intact. All
others were broken out. See how the windshield started
to break away at the lower part-- and how closely the children
came to being ejected as they ricocheted from front to
back during the rollover. Their bodies bounced off the windshield
but their heads were spared. Cranial impacts can be devastating.
>>>>>>>>>
We have had so many deaths and tragedies in our family that I didn't think I could endure another one either. I am so grateful that Nea was spared, as well as her little friends.
Chrissy was a beautiful young woman with creamy skin, brown eyes and thick, straight hair that revealed her Native American heritage from paternal and maternal sides of the family. She displayed her intelligence at an early age. She began teaching herself to read at age 3 and by the time she was 6 she was often called upon in Church to read the weekly Bible lesson. She was in the Gifted and Talented class in school and showed tremendous promise. We were very proud of Chrissie and had great hopes for her future.
After her father remarried and her younger sister was born, she was grieved by the severe handicaps Boops suffered. See post below "20 years of heartbreak, oceans of tears".
She developed an ambition to become a research physician to work on brain injuries. However, romance put her ambitions on hold. She bore a boy child and quickly became pregnant again. She determined to complete her education and fulfill her ambitions after her second child would be born.
My best friend's son, Boozer, entered our family circle at age 4 and was "adopted" by love. I called him my foster son and he spent a lot of time in my care and was included in all family get togethers. After my son and Bozo were divorced, Bozo married Boozer and they continued in the family circle.
Shortly after Christmas about ten years ago, Chrissy,her husband, Jason, and the baby, Brandon, came to visit me. They had spent Christmas with Mary, Boops and the other 2 children. I wanted to take pictures but was out of film so promised to get photos on their next visit. I could not know that I would never see them alive again, except for baby Brandon
A few weeks later Mary and Lonnie awakened me quite early with tragic news. The night before, Jason and Boozer had gone to pick Chrissy up from work. On the way home, the car left the road on a sharp curve and head ended into a concrete culvert. None of them were wearing seat belts and all may have survived if they had. Fortunately baby Brandon had been left at home with his aunt so was not with them.
Boozer was driving; the steering wheel broke off and the steering column crushed Boozer's chest, killing him instantly. He had been in the family as a member for over 40 years. We still talk about him and miss him. He was a character.
Jason struck the windshield and ended up crumpled under the dashboard on the passenger side. He died later from head injuries. He was a big, husky, handsome boy and loved our Chrissy very much. He was a good Daddy to Brandon.
Our beautiful, intelligent, talented Chrissy was in the back seat and was ejected from the car, either through the broken windshield or through the open passenger side window. Severe injuries to her hands and arms showed that she had instinctively put out her hands to protect herself before her face smashed into the hard ground. The paramedics assured us that she had died upon impact but the bruises she suffered proved to me that she had lived a short time. Bruises are caused by bleeding into the tissues and the dead do not bleed. I could only hope that she was unconscious until she died. Her unborn child died with her.
Four deaths (counting the baby) and three funerals were a hard time to bear.
Over ten years later we almost lost Chrissy's little sister, our Nea, in a car wreck that could have caused similar injuries to her that Chrissy suffered.
Nea and three other teenagers were riding and none had on seat belts. The young boy driving lost control of the car and left the road. Witnesses said the car first flipped end over end then rolled over from side to side, landing upside down in a ditch of muddy water. The unrestrained teeners richocheted from front to back repeatedly. Both drivers' side windows and front passenger side windows were broken out and the windshield was broken and almost knocked out. Had it broken away, it is probable that some of the children would have been ejected through the opening. The outcome could have been tragic.
When Nea got her wits about her, she crawled out the rear drivers' side window. She was wet and muddy but alive. She has bruises and scrapes, must wear a sling and knee brace for awhile but thank God sustained no serious injuries. The other three children escaped with just bruises and scrapes. All were extremely fortunate.
The police said that no drugs nor alcohol were involved; just teen age high spirits and a teen boy showing out for the girls.
When Mary got the call from the hospital she could not go immediately because of the time consuming efforts to load Boops, so her brother went for her, leaving her in a frantic state. When she saw wet, muddy, bandaged Nea, she about lost it.
Not again, not another one, not like Chrissy. But Nea was alive and well.
There is no terror, no pain, no grief as that of a parent (or grandparent) who loses a child. And no relief so profound as to to discover that the child is safe and whole.
(Mary lost her first child, little Charlie, who drowned and was crushed between the pier pilings and her father's yacht at age 3. Then the nightmare of Boop's ordeal, followed by her stepdaughter Chrissy's death. There is no wonder that she almost "lost it".)
Nea learned a valuable lesson: wear seat belts. The fear she experienced as the car wrecked and she and the others were thrown violently from front to back in the car made her understand the importance of seat belts. She also announced to her mother that she was going to start going back to church. Heh! Put the fear of God in her, too!
Nea in 2005.
Nea and her mother Christmas 2006
View of the wrecked car. It looks surprisingly good considering
the number of times it rolled. Some of the rolling that
witnesses described may have been mid-air spins.
Only the rear passenger window remained intact. All
others were broken out. See how the windshield started
to break away at the lower part-- and how closely the children
came to being ejected as they ricocheted from front to
back during the rollover. Their bodies bounced off the windshield
but their heads were spared. Cranial impacts can be devastating.
>>>>>>>>>
We have had so many deaths and tragedies in our family that I didn't think I could endure another one either. I am so grateful that Nea was spared, as well as her little friends.
Labels: Nea - wreck
Twenty Years of Heartbreak, Oceans of Tears
Cross posted from Is America Burning
Twenty Years of Heartbreak and Oceans of Tears
Over 20 years ago a beautiful baby girl was born to my eldest son and his wife. Her nickname is "Boops". She was a bright eyed, alert baby, seemingly perfect in every way, but the neonatal pediatrician detected a problem with her heart and had her transferred to Texas Children's Hospital in the Houston Medical Center where she could receive the specialized care she needed. The specialists there determined that she had a defective valve which surgery would correct."We'll repair it and she'll be home in a few days, less than a week," they assured us.
Nine months of hospital hell ensued, in which time my daughter-in-law remained at Boops' side, coming home for a couple of hours only twice in all that time. The heart repair was a success but complications after complications occurred and time after time we were told she would not survive. For nine months our lives were an endless round of hope, despair, and deathbed watches. She would pull through one emergency only to be struck with another.
Ultimately she did survive. Instead of bringing her home "in a few days" it was nine long, harrowing months later. Instead of the near perfect little baby as she was born, she was blind, nearly deaf, severely brain damaged and profoundly retarded. She cannot sit alone but must be harnessed into her special high chair or wheelchair, or propped with pillows. She must be diapered and spoon fed and carried from bed to chair. She has never spoken a word, merely cries, screams, or sometimes laughs. In all ways she must be treated as a small baby, in spite of the fact she is now bigger than her petite mother.
An army of therapists and the extended family pitching in to help was fruitless - except she was finally taught to chew so she no longer had to be fed strained foods. Even so, food must be very soft or she chokes. There are times when she appears to suffer pain and screams in agony, but she cannot tell us what is wrong. Rocking her, walking the floor with her has no effect, and is difficult when the baby is 5' 2" long (tall) and weighs 110 pounds. It has been a hard, painful 20 years, especially for her mother since she and my son divorced, and she is a single mom with 2 other children.
Biting her lower lip, which is a no-no as she has made her lip raw doing that.
Laughing in glee. What does she find to laugh about in her dark, almost silent, empty world? She knows nothing of our world and does not respond to it , nor does she respond to "baby play". My grand mother said that angels were playing with babies who laughed as she does. That's as good an answer as any
Appears pensive. What does she think about? Can she think? What fills her mind?
My former daughter-in-law and her normal daughter, my grand daughter.
For 20 years the family life has revolved around Boops and her needs, and the normal children always had to take a back seat to Boops' care, a full time job. For years my daughter-in-law carried Boops every where she went, on family outings, shopping, visiting and tried to give the other two children a semblance of normal life. Taking Boops out was like moving day at the zoo, with hauling her big, heavy specialized wheelchair and all her equipment and care products with them. Now that Boops is larger than her mother, it is so difficult to take her out that my daughter-in-law, who has handicaps of her own, has become a virtual hermit, preferring to stay home than to suffer the hassles.
Now that Boops is an "adult" she cannot get the Crippled Children's benefits she once did. My daughter-in-law cannot get state aid because the authorities tell her that since Boops has attained her majority and is legally an adult, she must file claims herself! Arguing that Boops has the mind of an small infant and is incapable of filing for herself falls on deaf ears. They tell her that she must go to court, declare Boops incompetent and obtain legal guardianship for her. My daughter-in-law has no money for lawyers and the pro bono attorneys will not take her type of case.
Furthermore, the authorities inform my daughter-in-law that in order to get any type of state aid, she must take job training and get a job (workfare). She doesn't need job training; she has a profession. But she cannot work because she cannot get day care for Boops. Because of Boops' special needs, no one will take responsibiliy for caring for her. The authorities brightly offered her help: for a few hours one weekend a month they will send out a care worker as respite for the mother - give her a mother's day out. A couple of hours once a month does not help with holding down a job. The son has left home and the younger daughter is still in school so cannot care for Boops. Anyway, Boops' needs are too much for a little teenager.
That isn't all. Applying - or trying to- for medical assistance got this response: They said that if she could not provide medical care for Boops, they would step in, take Boops away from her and put Boops in an institution!
My daughter-in-law lives in fear of Boops getting sick and the state would take Boops away from her. Several years ago during a family emergency my daughter-in-law checked out some state institutions for temporary placement of Boops. In one there were reports of sexual abuse of the patients, either by staff or other patients. In another a scandal erupted that the staff was using cattle prods on patients as a means of behavior modification. My daughter-in-law fled in horror, vowing never, never would she place Boops in one. Even at best, Boops would not receive the loving conscientious care she gets from her mother.
She and the 2 girls exist on the small child support she receives from my son. Now that Boops and the boy are legally adults, the teen age girl is the only one she receives support for. (My son is Bipolar and rather unstable so is little help.) They live about 70 miles from us so it is difficult for this side of the family to help. My daughter sends them a little money sometimes. Due to my reduced circumstances I can no longer help as I used to.
Children with Boops' problems usually do not live to adulthood. The fact that Boops is healthy, well developed, well nourished and as happy as it is possible for her to be is a testament to how well her mother has cared for her. You can see by her pictures that this is so. Being poor should not be a reason for the state to take a child away from its mother. My daughter-in-law was always a hard worker and is willing to work IF she can obtain proper day care for Boops, her top priority, but she cannot. The welfare of her children should be every mother's top priority but especially a child that is as totally helpless as Boops is. Every door has been slammed in her face. The authorities smugly tell her that if she'd just go get guardianship of Boops, then she could file for aid herself, ignoring the fact that there is no money for lawyers.
Is this common sense? Is this just? My daughter-in-law, my beautiful grand daughter and my lovely 20 year old grand "baby" just fall through the cracks and no one in positions of power and authority will make an effort to seek a solution. I get angry when I see certain people milking the taxpayers for every benefit they can possibly squeeze out and yet my own are denied any help at all.
Twenty years of heartbreak and heartache and the beat goes on with no end in sight.
Who in the hell is driving this bus?
( You cannot tell by looking that my darling Boops is blind and profoundly retarded, can you? You can see the woman that she should have been, had it not been for all the tragic complications she suffered.)
Twenty Years of Heartbreak and Oceans of Tears
Over 20 years ago a beautiful baby girl was born to my eldest son and his wife. Her nickname is "Boops". She was a bright eyed, alert baby, seemingly perfect in every way, but the neonatal pediatrician detected a problem with her heart and had her transferred to Texas Children's Hospital in the Houston Medical Center where she could receive the specialized care she needed. The specialists there determined that she had a defective valve which surgery would correct."We'll repair it and she'll be home in a few days, less than a week," they assured us.
Nine months of hospital hell ensued, in which time my daughter-in-law remained at Boops' side, coming home for a couple of hours only twice in all that time. The heart repair was a success but complications after complications occurred and time after time we were told she would not survive. For nine months our lives were an endless round of hope, despair, and deathbed watches. She would pull through one emergency only to be struck with another.
Ultimately she did survive. Instead of bringing her home "in a few days" it was nine long, harrowing months later. Instead of the near perfect little baby as she was born, she was blind, nearly deaf, severely brain damaged and profoundly retarded. She cannot sit alone but must be harnessed into her special high chair or wheelchair, or propped with pillows. She must be diapered and spoon fed and carried from bed to chair. She has never spoken a word, merely cries, screams, or sometimes laughs. In all ways she must be treated as a small baby, in spite of the fact she is now bigger than her petite mother.
An army of therapists and the extended family pitching in to help was fruitless - except she was finally taught to chew so she no longer had to be fed strained foods. Even so, food must be very soft or she chokes. There are times when she appears to suffer pain and screams in agony, but she cannot tell us what is wrong. Rocking her, walking the floor with her has no effect, and is difficult when the baby is 5' 2" long (tall) and weighs 110 pounds. It has been a hard, painful 20 years, especially for her mother since she and my son divorced, and she is a single mom with 2 other children.
Biting her lower lip, which is a no-no as she has made her lip raw doing that.
Laughing in glee. What does she find to laugh about in her dark, almost silent, empty world? She knows nothing of our world and does not respond to it , nor does she respond to "baby play". My grand mother said that angels were playing with babies who laughed as she does. That's as good an answer as any
Appears pensive. What does she think about? Can she think? What fills her mind?
My former daughter-in-law and her normal daughter, my grand daughter.
For 20 years the family life has revolved around Boops and her needs, and the normal children always had to take a back seat to Boops' care, a full time job. For years my daughter-in-law carried Boops every where she went, on family outings, shopping, visiting and tried to give the other two children a semblance of normal life. Taking Boops out was like moving day at the zoo, with hauling her big, heavy specialized wheelchair and all her equipment and care products with them. Now that Boops is larger than her mother, it is so difficult to take her out that my daughter-in-law, who has handicaps of her own, has become a virtual hermit, preferring to stay home than to suffer the hassles.
Now that Boops is an "adult" she cannot get the Crippled Children's benefits she once did. My daughter-in-law cannot get state aid because the authorities tell her that since Boops has attained her majority and is legally an adult, she must file claims herself! Arguing that Boops has the mind of an small infant and is incapable of filing for herself falls on deaf ears. They tell her that she must go to court, declare Boops incompetent and obtain legal guardianship for her. My daughter-in-law has no money for lawyers and the pro bono attorneys will not take her type of case.
Furthermore, the authorities inform my daughter-in-law that in order to get any type of state aid, she must take job training and get a job (workfare). She doesn't need job training; she has a profession. But she cannot work because she cannot get day care for Boops. Because of Boops' special needs, no one will take responsibiliy for caring for her. The authorities brightly offered her help: for a few hours one weekend a month they will send out a care worker as respite for the mother - give her a mother's day out. A couple of hours once a month does not help with holding down a job. The son has left home and the younger daughter is still in school so cannot care for Boops. Anyway, Boops' needs are too much for a little teenager.
That isn't all. Applying - or trying to- for medical assistance got this response: They said that if she could not provide medical care for Boops, they would step in, take Boops away from her and put Boops in an institution!
My daughter-in-law lives in fear of Boops getting sick and the state would take Boops away from her. Several years ago during a family emergency my daughter-in-law checked out some state institutions for temporary placement of Boops. In one there were reports of sexual abuse of the patients, either by staff or other patients. In another a scandal erupted that the staff was using cattle prods on patients as a means of behavior modification. My daughter-in-law fled in horror, vowing never, never would she place Boops in one. Even at best, Boops would not receive the loving conscientious care she gets from her mother.
She and the 2 girls exist on the small child support she receives from my son. Now that Boops and the boy are legally adults, the teen age girl is the only one she receives support for. (My son is Bipolar and rather unstable so is little help.) They live about 70 miles from us so it is difficult for this side of the family to help. My daughter sends them a little money sometimes. Due to my reduced circumstances I can no longer help as I used to.
Children with Boops' problems usually do not live to adulthood. The fact that Boops is healthy, well developed, well nourished and as happy as it is possible for her to be is a testament to how well her mother has cared for her. You can see by her pictures that this is so. Being poor should not be a reason for the state to take a child away from its mother. My daughter-in-law was always a hard worker and is willing to work IF she can obtain proper day care for Boops, her top priority, but she cannot. The welfare of her children should be every mother's top priority but especially a child that is as totally helpless as Boops is. Every door has been slammed in her face. The authorities smugly tell her that if she'd just go get guardianship of Boops, then she could file for aid herself, ignoring the fact that there is no money for lawyers.
Is this common sense? Is this just? My daughter-in-law, my beautiful grand daughter and my lovely 20 year old grand "baby" just fall through the cracks and no one in positions of power and authority will make an effort to seek a solution. I get angry when I see certain people milking the taxpayers for every benefit they can possibly squeeze out and yet my own are denied any help at all.
Twenty years of heartbreak and heartache and the beat goes on with no end in sight.
Who in the hell is driving this bus?
( You cannot tell by looking that my darling Boops is blind and profoundly retarded, can you? You can see the woman that she should have been, had it not been for all the tragic complications she suffered.)
Labels: Boops
