I have always been one who loved to listen to older people tell stories of their youth. I guess I would have rather have been raised in the “olden days” because I always could relate to people older than me than I could with people my own age. My first stepdad, who truly treated me like a daughter, was 25 years older than my mom. However, he spent the most time with me in that period of my life. I followed him around everywhere he went. I was always in his shop with him working on his tractors or doing crafts with wood. He also taught me about doing a small flower garden. He also made sure I had my own classroom complete with a huge chalkboard, desks, and textbooks. He spoiled me to death. However, he also expected me to be well mannered and respect others. He wasn’t mean or harsh. However, he made sure I knew when he was upset with me. I can only remember him yelling at me one time, and that was when I was four years old and got my little purse and was headed up the road to the pizza house with my money I had gotten for my birthday. Mind you, we lived on an extremely busy highway, and the pizza house was across the street. I wanted my pizza, and no one was going to tell me I couldn’t have it. 🙂 My mom and him were furious with me for days on end. I lost the right to roam our many acres and climb my apple trees for a week. Those were the good ole’ days for me. I remember him coming to my defense when my mom would push me to learn to ride horses.
My mom invested in four professional trainers to teach me how to ride a horse, but I flat out didn’t want anything to do with it. Since I had no interest, I didn’t learn it (or so I had thought.) My first stepdad came to my defense every time and told my mom that she needed to quit trying to shove her dreams down my throat. He could see I loved things dealing with helping others and “teaching” others how to do things. I also loved exploring and creating things. He taught me how to draw, and I was actually pretty good. However, it’s one of those things that if you don’t continue to do it, you lose it. I am very grateful he’s still a part of my life. Granted I don’t get to talk to him often, but we do send each other cards and letters every couple of months.
Here recently one of his daughters has contacted me as well, and we’re reconnecting. I’m eating it up!! They all made me feel a part of the family, even though my mom divorced him when I was nine years old.
The funny thing is my mom said that was her one regret!! She kept all of his love letters he sent her from when they dated each other, and many other things from him. The sad fact is he loved her too, and missed her too!! However, I know how difficult my mom was to have a relationship with. She held a grudge better than anyone I know!!! I guess that’s why I have a hard time holding a grudge, and choose to forget many things that have upset me. However, I have to give my mom credit she didn’t object to me staying in touch with him. She even encouraged me to build my relationship back up with him again in her final letter to me (I had let it slip without even realizing how much time had passed without my contacting him.) She knew I love him. I wish I could see him again, but chances are high that won’t be able to happen. However, the thought is there and the desire is as well.
Things were different during his lifetime. I hear about it from my grandmother-in-law as well. I laugh because I’m with them in wishing things were more like they use to be. I wish people’s word meant something. I wish people took the time to talk to the people around them instead of spending most of their time on their gadgets (iPhones, tablets, iPads, etc.) I wish people were more worried about helping others than trying to get ahead for themselves. To me, things ran a lot smoother when people did those things. Now everyone cuts their noses off despite their faces. Why would someone want to do for you, when your not willing to do for them?? (I know I’m guilty of not returning favors like I should, and I’m working on fixing that!!! I’m noticing the things I’m complaining about are also things that I fall short on. It’s easy to find faults in others that you possess as well.
My little man asked for a Mommy-son date last night, and it touched me so much. We didn’t have a movie worth watching, but we endured it just so we had time alone together cuddled up. He was extremely happy after the fact. Today he’s back to feeling confident in our relationship again, and he’s giving me his little hugs throughout the day and telling me that he loves me like he did before Zeva was born. I never thought my movie nights with him mattered to him, but I guess they mattered more than I realized. 🙂
Well, I’ve rambled enough.