Sunday, March 7, 2010

I remember my daddy

I remember so many wonderful things about my daddy. He made box kites and we would go and fly them in the fields. He was a very creative person always coming up with a new way to express his talents. He was a postal carrier so he had pretty regular hours. He made hand made puppets and performed shows for us. He was always entertaining us in some fun manner. I really loved him and thought that he could do no wrong.


I liked helping him paint the outside of our home. I know I wasn't any help, but he let me paint right along with him. I didn't quit until he stopped. I think my tenacity really surprised him. We had a large front porch made of concrete and my sister and I would wet it down with the hose and slip and slid across it. It's a wonder we didn't bust our heads open. We had a scuffle board court and moma had a green house with lots of prickly cacti. I got into those as well.

I also remember going to my neighbors home. They were the Ginsbergs and they had dogs and chickens. They were nice people and very interesting. I use to go through their dog door. I made myself at home and they didn't mind. Well, I don't think they did? Daddy had an old Model T that he was fixing up. He let my sister drive it first because she was the oldest, but he also let me drive it too. Of course we sat in his lap. That was a really nice memory.

We had a regular life. Moma taught Sunday School, baked cakes and drank, but she hid the drinking from us. Life seemed good from my perspective, but gradually things changed. Moma and daddy would scream and fight. I can't express how much this upset me. I did not understand why they were fighting, but I felt like it was my fault. Little children should not feel this way, but I did.

As things became worse, I started setting the kitchen garbage on fire at least once a week, or else the woods. I think I was desperate to express myself, but no one would listen. Well, I got their attention with the fires. To this day, I think it is odd that I didn't get in trouble with the law for setting fires. I am very thankful though.


To be continued

10 comments:

Thom said...

It amazes me the lengths we will go to to just get some affection, attention and or love. :) I'm glad you didn't get in trouble as well and hurt anyone. :) You are a special lady and I for one am glad you are my friend :)

Akelamalu said...

A lot of adults don't realise how their actions affect their children. Children are very sensitive to what goes on around them. I'm glad you didn't cause too much damage or hurt anyone, including yourself, with the fires.

Sandee said...

The other one you wrote that I read in my reader was even more startling that this post. Just saying.

I see we had similar childhoods. Only difference was that I was the punching bag for my father and they both stayed together. I wish they hadn't. No alcohol involved, and thank God for that. I would have been dead if there had been.

Have a terrific day. Big hug. :)

Finding Pam said...

Thom...I am glad that no one was hurt, but me. No, I wasn't burned. I am talking about my childhood. I am glad we are friends too.


Akelamala...Thank you for understanding. My life was like a war zone.


Sandee... I have a lot of difficult things to let go.

I am sorry that you had a similar childhood, but so very thankful you survived.

Big Hugs back to you,
Pam

Debra said...

Oh my how parents can mess us children up. I'm 57 years old and still deal with issues from childhood. There has been comfort though in realizing as an adult now, that no one had perfect parents. Those that experienced a wonderful and "normal" childhood are the exception and not the rule.

God has helped me to make peace with my childhood and I'm thankful for that.

Blogging about some of those experiences has been so therapeautic for me. I hope it helps you as well too.

God bless you my friend and know that I am praying for you.

Finding Pam said...

Debra, thank you so much for your comment. It gives me hope that I will heal.

Chickie said...

Slipping on the concrete? I thought my sister and I were the only kids to do that. We'd get our sidewalke muddy and then slide down.

How awful for you when the fighting started. Sometimes adults just don't realize (or flat don't care) how their actions with each other affect kids.

You have such a way with words. I can picture it all.

Finding Pam said...

Hey Chickie, I can imagine you and your sister on slippery, muddy sidewalks!

Thank you for the comment and for stopping by. Big hugs to you my friend.

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