A few months ago I received a notice on my Face Book page that my 30 year High School reunion was going to be on July 25th. It was to be split into three different venues one on the 25th was a BBQ at one of our classmates houses the second was on the 26th and more formal and took place at a rented banquet type place. The third and last was a coffee clutch in the Town we grew up in at the Court House lawn. My first thought when seeing the notice was wow has it really been that long? so many years and it feels as if I walked out of that High School for the last time just yesterday.
I was not sure if I wanted to go at first but found that many of my good friends were going to be there so I fired off my check and my RSVP for the BBQ not the formal I have in the past few years developed a sort of claustrophobia in large groups inside buildings. If I am in a store like Wall Mart and too many people are in the same isle I have to get the hell out I feel closed in. Not sure what that is about and could be some effect from medications or maybe I am just a bit cracked either way I just do not do well in those types of situations. I planed also to attend the coffee on the 27th because that was also an outside in the open venue and I could deal with that.
This would be my first time attending the reunion because I was in the Army for the 5 year and was on the missing list for the 10th. I was living in Pittsburgh Pa for the 15th broke and going to school I could not afford to make the trip home. I was back in Michigan and living in a town nearby but I was not able to get time off from work for the 20 year and then was battling cancer for the 25th. I had been lucky enough to reconnect with many of my classmates via my Face Book page and could share in their lives on the keyboard but had not seen many since the day we tossed our caps into the air. Once I got on Facebook and reconnected I found many lived still in and around the town we Graduated from and I found it funny that we shopped worked played etc in the same town yet never ran into one another. Over the years after we graduated I would see a few people now and then but I had lost touch with so many people that were very important to me back then and I always wondered how they were doing etc.
Once I reconnected on Face Book I found it strange that they had kids and grandchildren I mean I know we are all older but in my mind they were still those 18 and 19 year old kids from the graduating class of 1984. I had known many of them since kindergarten so in many ways they were like an extension of my family some I felt so close with I called them my brother from another mother and my sister from another mister well that was not a phrase back then but you get my meaning I hope. Many I only knew their Mothers name as Mom and that is what I called them also and they called my Mother Mom. In our Town everyone knew everyone in some form or fashion through church, sports, school, work etc. Someone always knew someone who knew someone who knew someone so it was not easy to get away with much growing up unless you were very careful of who saw you in town. I once was walking in town skipping school and smoking a cigarette before I got home my Mom had been informed probably by someone in a car passing by and mind you this was before everyone had a cell phone.
When I graduated all I wanted to do was wash the dust of our town off of me and I had it in my mind once I got away I would never want to come back. It was not that our town was a bad place its just I wanted to see the world and become something and felt my small town would only hold me back from my dreams. I find it so very funny how I saw things when I was younger compared to now.
Well back to the reunion. As the day got closer I felt a mixture of excitement and a bit nervous about going, almost like that first day of school each year when you have been away from most of your classmates for a whole summer. The difference this time is I had been away from them for many summers and winters so much had happened and changed in my life and theirs. I wanted to attend but every thing I do in my life now depends on my health and if I will feel well enough or not is always a toss up. It always seems when I make plans to do something I get sick and have to miss out on what ever it is. So I made sure I got lots of rest and watched what I ate etc so I would be up for going. I am not able to eat while away from the house and have to eat at least five hours before I plan on going anywhere so I make sure I use the rest room before I leave. Long car rides are hell so I rarely venture far from home. So the day of the BBQ on the 25th that started at 5 I ate breakfast that morning and nothing else the rest of the day so I would not have any problems while catching up with old friends.
As the day got closer so many memories rushed into my mind of times we had had places we had gone teachers,janitors,pep rallies,sports, tests, music,clothing,bus rides my mind was reeling. I would bust out laughing at some memories that popped into my head and the people around me would look at me like I had lost it. I tried to explain what I was laughing about but most of those times was a you had to of been there type thing so it was lost in translation for them. It would be so great to be back with those that had been there and understood me in a way no one else could.
I got myself ready and loaded my car with things I wanted to give friends and some vegetables from my garden also the items that I was asked to bring for the BBQ. And soon I was off still feeling a bit nervous not sure why just the unknown I guess for some reason I work things up in my mind and often its the worst scenario. But I was also excited to be able to see people face to face and catch up. I got there early and hauled all the goods I had brought with me up to the spot were a tent had been set up with tables and chairs. I was met by my classmates wife and gave her a hug and chit chatted for a bit. My classmate and his family were gracious enough to have the gathering at their house and for some reason I had flash backs of some wild parties I had been at back in our school days not that I thought this would be that wild but the thought did enter my mind none the less.
The party was a lot of fun and it seemed time went by so fast. I wanted to have more time to talk and catch up but its hard to cram 30 years into a few hours when you have 60 or so people talking all at once. I was able to catch up with a few people but as I say I wish I had more time. It got late and too soon it came time to leave so I said my goodbyes and piled back into my vehicle to drive home. As I drove home I laughed to myself at myself for thinking the night could or would be anything other than a fun night.They had a banquet night planned for the next day but I was not going to be able to attend that. Over the years I have become very uncomfortable in large crowds more so in inclosed areas. I seem to be fine outdoors but if inside I feel claustrophobic. So needless to say I did not attend the second party.
I am glad I went and look forward to the next one. Sadly we have lost a few people over the years and it was hard not to see their faces there and I pray I see all the ones from this year return and hopefully more will be able to make it to the next one. I do not care what anyone says I know the CLASS OF 1984 ROCKS!!!!!!!!!
Friday, October 24, 2014
Getting Back to My Friends
I recently had a chance to visit with some friends that I had not seen since we graduated from High School. Even though so many years had past it felt as if we just picked up were we left off or as if we had seen each other a few days ago. It was great to talk to people who knew what I was talking about and shared many of my memories of the past. I never really thought about it back then but my friends were and are a part of my family even though we may not share blood we share memories of what at the time felt like the most difficult time in our lives. We grew up together maybe not always as close as we would have liked but they were the faces I saw everyday in the halls and in the classes I attended. Back when I was in school our town was small and everyone seemed to know everyone else in some way or another. We came from different backgrounds and social standings but none of that seemed to matter or at least it did not to me. I was the type person if I liked someone I liked them not for what they wore or what their social standing was and once I made a friend they stayed always in my mind a friend. I may have gotten angry with them at times and we may have fought but I still felt they were a friend. As we moved from grade to grade I would make new friends but I never forgot those friends I had made before.
We started out in Kindergarten and depending on the area you lived decided on what grade school you would attended. We had about 5 grade schools at that time with two Kindergarten classes in each and we would for the most part attend those schools until 4th grade unless someone moved to a different location or moved away the school you went to would be the group of people you spent the next four years with growing and learning. After those four years came to an end we would move on to Middle school which our town had two and once again depending on were you lived would depend on were you would attend school. The one school had been built many years ago and at once housed the High School students and was later turned into a middle school after a new high school had been built. This would be the school I would attended and it was a very old three story brick building that was in for the most part neglected and in need of repair. It had plaster walls and lots of real wood doors and wood molding and the wood floors would creaked when you walked on them lets just say there was dark stained wood everywhere framing the doors the windows etc. We did not have air conditioning a slight breeze was seldom on hot days given by an open window. The other Middle school was newer and more up to date and modern and had air conditioning. After three years in that Middle we all moved to the newer school for one year. In that move we were combined together with the people from that school and we would spend the next five years together. Twelve years of my life spent of people coming and going friendships built and as I said before they were like my extended family. There are points about those days I miss but there are also many that I could have done without.
Later in my life I seem to do most of my communication either in my blog, by phone or through other social media on the computer so I seldom get the chance to talk to people face to face theses days. It was nice to catch up and actually talk but I fear I in not talking for so long monopolized the conversation something I have a habit of doing. I tend to start talking and then can not shut up. I have found and reconnected with many people on Facebook and enjoy being included in their lives. Seeing their children their homes pets etc. I think once I left high school it was like I lost a large part of my family and it is so nice to reconnect with them.
I have heard some say they feel as though some people on Facebook brag about how well they are doing. Hmmm maybe some do but I have to say I am proud of my friends and my family for the things they have accomplished and enjoy hearing about the car they bought or the trip they took or their new Grandchild. I do not see it as bragging I see it as me sharing in their good fortune like I have said many times before I think differently than most I guess. While I was going through my cancer treatments those stories and sharing was my only contact with the outside world. Like many other things in my life I became addicted to Facebook and would wake in the morning and check to see what was going on. I am trying to cut back on my Facebook time and have started slowly doing so but still feel withdrawal now and then.
I like to know how and what makes people tick such as what is their high points and what they would consider their lows. Most people share more about their highs for fear people will think they are winning in some way if they discuss the bad things in life. Hell I know I have days I feel like shit and am grateful to be able to post it and get feed back, love,prayers etc. I am less and less private with my life as I age I think because I become less and less fearful of what people think. I know when I first was dealing with my cancer I was not going to let anyone know about it. I am so glad I wised up and shared this with my extended family because without them and their support I am not sure I would have gotten through those real rough days. And I will or can not forget the input on how to deal with all the things that come up while going through the proses of chemo and radiation. Helpful hints from others who had been through it or were dealing with it at the time. And by sharing I found out about a support group that I would otherwise not have known about.
I went through a few years after I left High School thinking I would just leave that life in my past or that I did not need those people anymore. When I first got online back well more years than I care to admit I started spending a lot of time in chat rooms and those people, people I did not even know became my go to persons to talk to. Those were some of the loneliest years I have ever spent in my life. I had stop drinking and drugging so I had cut ties with friends because they were still doing those things and I could not handle being around it. So I worked came home and sat at my computer talking to people who probably were not what or who they said they were but I for some reason put my trust in them and considered them my friends. That went on for about three years until I moved up north living in the sticks and had no internet. It was hard at first but I soon replaced that time I would spend online with walks with my dogs and talking with neighbors.
I lived there for about two years and loved it but there was no work and I was forced to move back down and moved a few towns over from were I had grown up. I had been away long enough that I had lost contact with just about all my old friends and they had gone on with their lives moved to other states etc. I just figured it was how life is, people come and go, and you deal with it.
Back to my story of seeing friends. I guess I did not realize just how much I had missed those people and how much they had meant to me. Just seeing them again made me smile and feel better than I had in a long time. I felt comfortable with them and free to be myself and say what ever the hell I wanted. It was great that they remembered the same things I did and talking with them sparked memories I had forgotten about. Looking back at those High School days I truthfully can say it was not all sunshine and roses but I did get to know some great people and am glad to have them back in my life.
We started out in Kindergarten and depending on the area you lived decided on what grade school you would attended. We had about 5 grade schools at that time with two Kindergarten classes in each and we would for the most part attend those schools until 4th grade unless someone moved to a different location or moved away the school you went to would be the group of people you spent the next four years with growing and learning. After those four years came to an end we would move on to Middle school which our town had two and once again depending on were you lived would depend on were you would attend school. The one school had been built many years ago and at once housed the High School students and was later turned into a middle school after a new high school had been built. This would be the school I would attended and it was a very old three story brick building that was in for the most part neglected and in need of repair. It had plaster walls and lots of real wood doors and wood molding and the wood floors would creaked when you walked on them lets just say there was dark stained wood everywhere framing the doors the windows etc. We did not have air conditioning a slight breeze was seldom on hot days given by an open window. The other Middle school was newer and more up to date and modern and had air conditioning. After three years in that Middle we all moved to the newer school for one year. In that move we were combined together with the people from that school and we would spend the next five years together. Twelve years of my life spent of people coming and going friendships built and as I said before they were like my extended family. There are points about those days I miss but there are also many that I could have done without.
Later in my life I seem to do most of my communication either in my blog, by phone or through other social media on the computer so I seldom get the chance to talk to people face to face theses days. It was nice to catch up and actually talk but I fear I in not talking for so long monopolized the conversation something I have a habit of doing. I tend to start talking and then can not shut up. I have found and reconnected with many people on Facebook and enjoy being included in their lives. Seeing their children their homes pets etc. I think once I left high school it was like I lost a large part of my family and it is so nice to reconnect with them.
I have heard some say they feel as though some people on Facebook brag about how well they are doing. Hmmm maybe some do but I have to say I am proud of my friends and my family for the things they have accomplished and enjoy hearing about the car they bought or the trip they took or their new Grandchild. I do not see it as bragging I see it as me sharing in their good fortune like I have said many times before I think differently than most I guess. While I was going through my cancer treatments those stories and sharing was my only contact with the outside world. Like many other things in my life I became addicted to Facebook and would wake in the morning and check to see what was going on. I am trying to cut back on my Facebook time and have started slowly doing so but still feel withdrawal now and then.
I like to know how and what makes people tick such as what is their high points and what they would consider their lows. Most people share more about their highs for fear people will think they are winning in some way if they discuss the bad things in life. Hell I know I have days I feel like shit and am grateful to be able to post it and get feed back, love,prayers etc. I am less and less private with my life as I age I think because I become less and less fearful of what people think. I know when I first was dealing with my cancer I was not going to let anyone know about it. I am so glad I wised up and shared this with my extended family because without them and their support I am not sure I would have gotten through those real rough days. And I will or can not forget the input on how to deal with all the things that come up while going through the proses of chemo and radiation. Helpful hints from others who had been through it or were dealing with it at the time. And by sharing I found out about a support group that I would otherwise not have known about.
I went through a few years after I left High School thinking I would just leave that life in my past or that I did not need those people anymore. When I first got online back well more years than I care to admit I started spending a lot of time in chat rooms and those people, people I did not even know became my go to persons to talk to. Those were some of the loneliest years I have ever spent in my life. I had stop drinking and drugging so I had cut ties with friends because they were still doing those things and I could not handle being around it. So I worked came home and sat at my computer talking to people who probably were not what or who they said they were but I for some reason put my trust in them and considered them my friends. That went on for about three years until I moved up north living in the sticks and had no internet. It was hard at first but I soon replaced that time I would spend online with walks with my dogs and talking with neighbors.
I lived there for about two years and loved it but there was no work and I was forced to move back down and moved a few towns over from were I had grown up. I had been away long enough that I had lost contact with just about all my old friends and they had gone on with their lives moved to other states etc. I just figured it was how life is, people come and go, and you deal with it.
Back to my story of seeing friends. I guess I did not realize just how much I had missed those people and how much they had meant to me. Just seeing them again made me smile and feel better than I had in a long time. I felt comfortable with them and free to be myself and say what ever the hell I wanted. It was great that they remembered the same things I did and talking with them sparked memories I had forgotten about. Looking back at those High School days I truthfully can say it was not all sunshine and roses but I did get to know some great people and am glad to have them back in my life.
Blank Canvas
I often wonder why when I see a blank white sheet of paper or a blank canvas I feel the urge to write on it or paint it. What is this need inside me to express some sort of emotion or feeling and then to have others see it? Am I looking for attention? am I missing something in my personality? is it the only way I know how to reach out to others? Or am I just a stones throw away from needing to be placed in a rubber room? I look back on some of my paintings and think WOW! was I really at that place in my mind? or I read over old writings and think how the hell did I make it out alive or ever get through that time of my life? I would like to think I did it on my own, just all me, no help from anyone or anything. I know looking back this is not true because I had help along the way, someone always seemed to be looking out for me. Not everyone sees it this way but for me God or my faith that there is something greater than me has kept me going. I am not sure of much but I am sure something has been guiding me and helping me along my path.
If it is true God is everywhere and in all things then those people who were there for me were in a sense God. I often when looking back forget those people who were there when I fell, those that extended a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on. Why do I do that? why do I feel like the only way to feel I accomplished anything is if I did it all on my own? or that it makes me somehow weak to admit I had help along the way. I am a person who as they say wears his heart on his sleeve and care deeply for those people I let into my life. But for some unknown reason to me I have a hard time letting those people know just how much they have shaped my life and helped me.
I wonder if this stems from my upbringing and of my Fathers constant push that I should never show weakness or never let the other guy think you need help in anyway. My Dad had a rough way to go growing up and somewhere along the line he made up his mind he would never show any weakness to anyone. I saw my Father cry only two times in my life, once was when his Father passed away the second time was when my sister passed away. Both of those times I could see although he was crying he was also angered by the fact he was letting his emotions show. Funny I am so different from him in that I am very emotional and have no problem crying or having anyone see me doing so. I never saw it as a weakness but I also never or tried to never let my father see me cry. I think of myself as a child starting out as a blank canvas and the people I have met along the way have helped to color me or paint who I am.
Both my parents came from large families and although they may have not wanted for much they were by no means rich. They knew what it was to not have things and wear hand me downs or second hand clothing. They wanted more for their kids and worked hard to try and make their kids life's better. I would hear my Mom talk about growing up and you could see in her eyes the love she had for her Mom and Dad and even when she talked about the hard times she did so with a gleam in her eye, almost laughingly. My Dad did not speak of his growing up much but when he did he mostly talked about his Dad. His Mother left when he was very young just walked out one day, and I think that did damage to him that effected him the rest of his life. I tell all this just to show I understand why my parents did the things they did and why they brought me up the way they did and that I am not bashing them in anyway.
Both my parents had an attitude that you should not ask for help and that if you were going to make it in this world you were going to do so on your own. Call it pride or what ever but to me they seemed to have this need to try and do everything with out help. Although they had help along the way very seldom did I hear them admit to that fact. I am not sure if it was something they were taught or because of being what some would call poor they just felt ashamed to ask or let anyone know they needed help. OK! I am rambling I know but I guess I am just trying to make sense of my need to do it on my own.
While I was in treatment for drug addiction one of the counselors gave me a piece of paper and written on it was a problem or situation that I had to give an answer as to how I would deal with it. The situation was as follows........You are in a store and you are buying a 70 pound bag of potatoes there are no carts in the store so you must carry them on your back. When you reach the check out the lines are long and not moving very fast the sack starts to become very heavy. What do you do? I said I would set it down and pick it back up when the line started moving. The counselor said you can not sit it down and you have to have them so you can not just put them back and leave. Every answer I gave he said was wrong and I started to get pissed off and the fact he asked me this question on a day my family was there made it even worse. I ended up getting so pissed off I walked out on the session and was saying under my breath some real nasty things about the counselor.
I would stay pissed until the next day when he asked me the same question again. I told him there was no answer, and this made him smile which pissed me off even more. I got so mad I yelled at him (WELL WHY DON'T YOU JUST TELL ME THE BLANKING BLANK BLANK ANSWER!)? Get this answer he gave me............are ya ready for it............ the answer was to ask for someone to help you. Well that just pissed me off even more and made me feel stupid but I could not understand why it pissed me off so much. It would be days before I would have any break through or understanding and see that I was so pissed off because I was unaccustomed to asking for help or accepting help for that mater. I would see that I was in fact carrying around all my emotions like a sack of potatoes and afraid to ask for help in any shape or form. I may have started out with one potato/emotion but over time the sack got full and started crushing me under its weight. I know to some that little story will have no meaning but for me it was a bit of a wake up call . I would have to learn to express my feelings and share them some how and ask for help when I needed it or they would build and build until I would be crushed under the load. And the fact I was no longer able to run to a bottle of booze or pop a pill to deal with them like I had in the past made it a difficult change to make. I had become so used to using substances like pills and booze it became the only way I knew how to deal with life. And God forbid I ask for help or showed I was not superman able to do it all with no help.
So have I gotten better at asking for help you may ask? to that question I would answer somewhat but I still try to do it on my own because I am stubborn and find old habits hard to break even when I know they are doing me harm. So when I see a fresh piece of paper I want to write on it or a blank canvas I want to paint on it I guess its just my way of emptying the potato/emotions to lessen the load. So if you have been there for me in the past and I did not say thank you it was not because I did not appreciate it it is that I did not know how to say thank you or that I was too ashamed that I needed your help at all. As I read over this I am thinking maybe the rubber room is the best answer after all. 8-)
If it is true God is everywhere and in all things then those people who were there for me were in a sense God. I often when looking back forget those people who were there when I fell, those that extended a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on. Why do I do that? why do I feel like the only way to feel I accomplished anything is if I did it all on my own? or that it makes me somehow weak to admit I had help along the way. I am a person who as they say wears his heart on his sleeve and care deeply for those people I let into my life. But for some unknown reason to me I have a hard time letting those people know just how much they have shaped my life and helped me.
I wonder if this stems from my upbringing and of my Fathers constant push that I should never show weakness or never let the other guy think you need help in anyway. My Dad had a rough way to go growing up and somewhere along the line he made up his mind he would never show any weakness to anyone. I saw my Father cry only two times in my life, once was when his Father passed away the second time was when my sister passed away. Both of those times I could see although he was crying he was also angered by the fact he was letting his emotions show. Funny I am so different from him in that I am very emotional and have no problem crying or having anyone see me doing so. I never saw it as a weakness but I also never or tried to never let my father see me cry. I think of myself as a child starting out as a blank canvas and the people I have met along the way have helped to color me or paint who I am.
Both my parents came from large families and although they may have not wanted for much they were by no means rich. They knew what it was to not have things and wear hand me downs or second hand clothing. They wanted more for their kids and worked hard to try and make their kids life's better. I would hear my Mom talk about growing up and you could see in her eyes the love she had for her Mom and Dad and even when she talked about the hard times she did so with a gleam in her eye, almost laughingly. My Dad did not speak of his growing up much but when he did he mostly talked about his Dad. His Mother left when he was very young just walked out one day, and I think that did damage to him that effected him the rest of his life. I tell all this just to show I understand why my parents did the things they did and why they brought me up the way they did and that I am not bashing them in anyway.
Both my parents had an attitude that you should not ask for help and that if you were going to make it in this world you were going to do so on your own. Call it pride or what ever but to me they seemed to have this need to try and do everything with out help. Although they had help along the way very seldom did I hear them admit to that fact. I am not sure if it was something they were taught or because of being what some would call poor they just felt ashamed to ask or let anyone know they needed help. OK! I am rambling I know but I guess I am just trying to make sense of my need to do it on my own.
While I was in treatment for drug addiction one of the counselors gave me a piece of paper and written on it was a problem or situation that I had to give an answer as to how I would deal with it. The situation was as follows........You are in a store and you are buying a 70 pound bag of potatoes there are no carts in the store so you must carry them on your back. When you reach the check out the lines are long and not moving very fast the sack starts to become very heavy. What do you do? I said I would set it down and pick it back up when the line started moving. The counselor said you can not sit it down and you have to have them so you can not just put them back and leave. Every answer I gave he said was wrong and I started to get pissed off and the fact he asked me this question on a day my family was there made it even worse. I ended up getting so pissed off I walked out on the session and was saying under my breath some real nasty things about the counselor.
I would stay pissed until the next day when he asked me the same question again. I told him there was no answer, and this made him smile which pissed me off even more. I got so mad I yelled at him (WELL WHY DON'T YOU JUST TELL ME THE BLANKING BLANK BLANK ANSWER!)? Get this answer he gave me............are ya ready for it............ the answer was to ask for someone to help you. Well that just pissed me off even more and made me feel stupid but I could not understand why it pissed me off so much. It would be days before I would have any break through or understanding and see that I was so pissed off because I was unaccustomed to asking for help or accepting help for that mater. I would see that I was in fact carrying around all my emotions like a sack of potatoes and afraid to ask for help in any shape or form. I may have started out with one potato/emotion but over time the sack got full and started crushing me under its weight. I know to some that little story will have no meaning but for me it was a bit of a wake up call . I would have to learn to express my feelings and share them some how and ask for help when I needed it or they would build and build until I would be crushed under the load. And the fact I was no longer able to run to a bottle of booze or pop a pill to deal with them like I had in the past made it a difficult change to make. I had become so used to using substances like pills and booze it became the only way I knew how to deal with life. And God forbid I ask for help or showed I was not superman able to do it all with no help.
So have I gotten better at asking for help you may ask? to that question I would answer somewhat but I still try to do it on my own because I am stubborn and find old habits hard to break even when I know they are doing me harm. So when I see a fresh piece of paper I want to write on it or a blank canvas I want to paint on it I guess its just my way of emptying the potato/emotions to lessen the load. So if you have been there for me in the past and I did not say thank you it was not because I did not appreciate it it is that I did not know how to say thank you or that I was too ashamed that I needed your help at all. As I read over this I am thinking maybe the rubber room is the best answer after all. 8-)
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Facades
So many of us wear false facades. We fear letting others see our true selves so we go through life putting out an image we think others will be comfortable with. I started thinking about this as I sat in a coffee shop a while back watching a group of workman taking a false facade down from a building across the road. The building had been covered with large pieces of metal shaped in large squares and covered with a grey ceramic coating giving a look of sterility or modern office building look. As each piece of metal came off it reviled another section of the brick that was hidden underneath. As I watched the ugly flat surface disappear and the beautiful brick revealed from underneath I wondered who's bright idea it was to cover up all that beautiful brick work? It was so very stylish and ornate not like the box buildings they build nowadays it had character and style and was unique from the other buildings. You could see the brick masons had taken pride in their work and in many ways it was a form of art. The old windows had once been arched at the top and outlined in ornate brick work. You could see that the arched windows had been modified over the years and the arches had been covered over with plywood probably for cost reasons when replacing the windows. The doorway had been moved from the center of the opening to one side and once had been inset about a foot or so from the sidewalk now was flush with the front of the building. As each piece of the sterile looking facade came down you could see the many changes the building had gone through over the years, each change taking away from the original vision of the building.
This made me think of how I have gone through so many changes and built up facades and torn them down over the years. So many of us cover up our true selves hiding behind facades and often not knowing we are even doing so. I remember a time when I was younger running and playing back when I did not care what people thought of me, a time when I was free to say and be what I wanted. A time my dreams had no limits in my mind I could fly if I wanted it bad enough. I wonder why or when I lost that ability to just be me, when did I conform and start wanting to emulate others instead of being an original?
There have been times over the years I did not like the person I had become or the person I was trying to be because I thought its what people wanted of me. I am finding as I get older I am returning to that way of thinking, getting back to that not caring what people think about me and getting back to being me. Funny there was a long period of time I was not sure who me was and also a fear of letting people see even a glimpse of the real me for fear they may not like what they saw.
All that time wasted putting up facades, time I could have spent just being who I wanted to be. I guess I can chalk it up to learning experiences like trying on clothing to see what pair of pants fits best or what style you look best in. I have become comfortable with who I am or lets say I am on my way to that point. I guess you would call it casual, yep that's my personality just laid back like jeans and a T shirt sandals and white socks or an old comfortable pair of sweat pants no frills,bells or whistles just me not giving a shit what people think. You may see me on that sight people of Wall mart looking like I just rolled out of bed and ran to the store and I admit there was a time that would have bothered me but alas I just do not care so sing it with me........ it's my life... and its now or never...... I ain't gonna live forever........I just wanna live while I'm alive.
ITS MY LIFE!
This made me think of how I have gone through so many changes and built up facades and torn them down over the years. So many of us cover up our true selves hiding behind facades and often not knowing we are even doing so. I remember a time when I was younger running and playing back when I did not care what people thought of me, a time when I was free to say and be what I wanted. A time my dreams had no limits in my mind I could fly if I wanted it bad enough. I wonder why or when I lost that ability to just be me, when did I conform and start wanting to emulate others instead of being an original?
There have been times over the years I did not like the person I had become or the person I was trying to be because I thought its what people wanted of me. I am finding as I get older I am returning to that way of thinking, getting back to that not caring what people think about me and getting back to being me. Funny there was a long period of time I was not sure who me was and also a fear of letting people see even a glimpse of the real me for fear they may not like what they saw.
All that time wasted putting up facades, time I could have spent just being who I wanted to be. I guess I can chalk it up to learning experiences like trying on clothing to see what pair of pants fits best or what style you look best in. I have become comfortable with who I am or lets say I am on my way to that point. I guess you would call it casual, yep that's my personality just laid back like jeans and a T shirt sandals and white socks or an old comfortable pair of sweat pants no frills,bells or whistles just me not giving a shit what people think. You may see me on that sight people of Wall mart looking like I just rolled out of bed and ran to the store and I admit there was a time that would have bothered me but alas I just do not care so sing it with me........ it's my life... and its now or never...... I ain't gonna live forever........I just wanna live while I'm alive.
ITS MY LIFE!
Digging In The Past
A few years back I started getting into family history or genealogy and digging around to find out where and who I came from. It was fun at first and I was able to beg and borrow some great info and Photos from older family members. Some times it was easy and other times very hard as many people felt I was messing around in areas that were better left in the past. When I first started in this little hobby I had dial up internet service so I would have to borrow pictures and paper work to scan the items at home and then return it to its owner at a later time. Many people do not like parting with items for fear they will never get them back so often it was very hard to convince someone to loan you precious bits of the families past. I found by my raiding family photo albums and boxes of old papers I found information that I could never find on the internet. It was like a hunter hunting for prey or shopping tell ya drop type feeling. It quickly became an addiction as many things do with me and in no time it was all I could think about I would spend hours on line scrolling through file after file and picture after picture searching for bits and pieces trying to make each person from the past whole again. With dark circles under my eyes and a numbness in my ass I had to take a break from my hobby because I had let it consume me and become not a hobby but an addiction.
It has been about ten years or more since I put all my family info I had gathered into a large plastic bin and stashed it away in my basement and there I forgot about it for a time. The past few years I have lost some people who were and still are very special to me and the loss of those loved ones made me remember that plastic bin hidden away in the basement. Thinking of those I had lost I decided to dig that bin out of storage and opened it up with the notion of just adding the obituary info and photos of the latest family losses. As I opened the lid and thumbed through the piles of info the memories of people from the past flooded back. Memories of my Grandfather and the couple of years he lived with us and all the things he taught me. My Grandmother and how she would cry when it came time for us to leave after a visit. The houses people had lived in the cars they drove the holidays we had all spent together and Oh! so much more. I had dug that plastic bin out only to add a few bits of info mind you but sitting here two weeks after I opened the lid I find myself with stacks of info spread around me and I am once again consumed with trying to catalog all this info so that the people from the past will not be forgotten and the people from the future will be able to make some since out of what I have gathered.
I only wish the people from the past would have made little notes on photos as to who where and when the photo was taken. I guess if they had made it to easy for us who like to dig in the past it would somehow not be as much fun but sometimes it can be frustrating. I do know that it is like no other type of high when you at last are able to place a person in the family tree with info to back it up to anyone who wants to dispute the fact they belong there.
I do have to say it has become so much easier now than when I first started or those who started before me for that matter. Those that started before me would have to physically go to the court house or grave yard to retrieve info. I am very lucky to be able now to access info just by entering the right phrase into my internet search. Pictures are downloaded and obits are there for the taking if you know where to look. My Aunt Letha my dads sister started the Thomas family Genealogy many years ago, back when she had to do leg work and use snail mail to get the info. She compiled a huge amount of info that she left to a cousin of mine leaving her with the daunting task of sorting through boxes and boxes of info putting it into a blog she started so she could share it with the whole family. She has done so much work loading photos and such to the blog and it is wonderful to see faces of people I have never met and those I have bringing them back to my thoughts. Many of those old yellowing cracked photos I would swear were me or other family members who came way after those people in the photos were long gone. The resemblances can often be scary in a way like looking at your reflection in a mirror but 20 years before you were born.
Dead ends can be hard to deal with. A dead end is when you have a family member that you can not find any info, such as their parents or where they came from or how they got here. I have a few dead ends that haunt me as I dig and dig to find just a thread of info on their past and come up with diddly squat. Some lines of my history have been widely research by others making those groups of people easy to put in the family tree, but there are some branches that seem to be or have big secretive pasts like they were beamed down from outer space and just appeared one day and started a family. With people so adamant to come to the new world some stowed away on ships or lied about who they were. Many did not speak English or could even write their own name so they had to tell someone their name and that person wrote it down. Many mistakes were made and many families names were changed or altered because of this fact. Framer is a name in my family tree that has been butchered many times over the years. The Framer line of my family came from Germany and with broken English I guess it must have sounded strange to those who did not speak German. In my research I have found it spelled Foramer Fromer Frymer Frimer etc. It can make it hard when digging in old manifests and files to be sure it is the person I am looking for. Often one small clue like another family member listed with them helps to prove it is the person and I am on the right track.
In digging and finding out how those brave people from my past came to this country often with only the clothes on their backs just astounds me and the many reasons that brought them here. Some came to gain fortune some came to escape governmental tyrants politics,religion, even to escape prison terms each had their own reasons and motivations for making the trip. Some came as indentured servants serving 10 years or more basically as slaves to the person who paid for their passage on a ship. Not all came first class and many came with nothing more than a dream of some sort. I know what a hassle it was for me to move from state to state or from place to place but my moves although problematic were nothing like what they dealt with and many were not spring chickens when they did so. I have found members of the family in their 70's and 80's making the trip. I think about the women pregnant and having children in the bowls of ships with the cargo. How unsanitary it must have been or them having to deal with that time of the month. Having to be often packed in like animals with little to eat of drink. Many died on the trip over and never made it to their destination. Those brave people traveling many days to get here and not knowing what to expect or what would meet them at the shore.
I find a great deal of pride knowing I came from such people who had a dream of something bigger and were willing to suffer the hardships to achieve that dream. They came form all over the map and their blood runs through my veins. I am German I am Scottish I am Nordic I am English I am Jewish I am Italian I am a melting pot of people from many lands and I want to know as much about them as I can. I am trying to not let this little hobby become an addiction again as it was, am I able to do that you may ask? all I can say to that is time will tell, time will tell.
It has been about ten years or more since I put all my family info I had gathered into a large plastic bin and stashed it away in my basement and there I forgot about it for a time. The past few years I have lost some people who were and still are very special to me and the loss of those loved ones made me remember that plastic bin hidden away in the basement. Thinking of those I had lost I decided to dig that bin out of storage and opened it up with the notion of just adding the obituary info and photos of the latest family losses. As I opened the lid and thumbed through the piles of info the memories of people from the past flooded back. Memories of my Grandfather and the couple of years he lived with us and all the things he taught me. My Grandmother and how she would cry when it came time for us to leave after a visit. The houses people had lived in the cars they drove the holidays we had all spent together and Oh! so much more. I had dug that plastic bin out only to add a few bits of info mind you but sitting here two weeks after I opened the lid I find myself with stacks of info spread around me and I am once again consumed with trying to catalog all this info so that the people from the past will not be forgotten and the people from the future will be able to make some since out of what I have gathered.
I only wish the people from the past would have made little notes on photos as to who where and when the photo was taken. I guess if they had made it to easy for us who like to dig in the past it would somehow not be as much fun but sometimes it can be frustrating. I do know that it is like no other type of high when you at last are able to place a person in the family tree with info to back it up to anyone who wants to dispute the fact they belong there.
I do have to say it has become so much easier now than when I first started or those who started before me for that matter. Those that started before me would have to physically go to the court house or grave yard to retrieve info. I am very lucky to be able now to access info just by entering the right phrase into my internet search. Pictures are downloaded and obits are there for the taking if you know where to look. My Aunt Letha my dads sister started the Thomas family Genealogy many years ago, back when she had to do leg work and use snail mail to get the info. She compiled a huge amount of info that she left to a cousin of mine leaving her with the daunting task of sorting through boxes and boxes of info putting it into a blog she started so she could share it with the whole family. She has done so much work loading photos and such to the blog and it is wonderful to see faces of people I have never met and those I have bringing them back to my thoughts. Many of those old yellowing cracked photos I would swear were me or other family members who came way after those people in the photos were long gone. The resemblances can often be scary in a way like looking at your reflection in a mirror but 20 years before you were born.
Dead ends can be hard to deal with. A dead end is when you have a family member that you can not find any info, such as their parents or where they came from or how they got here. I have a few dead ends that haunt me as I dig and dig to find just a thread of info on their past and come up with diddly squat. Some lines of my history have been widely research by others making those groups of people easy to put in the family tree, but there are some branches that seem to be or have big secretive pasts like they were beamed down from outer space and just appeared one day and started a family. With people so adamant to come to the new world some stowed away on ships or lied about who they were. Many did not speak English or could even write their own name so they had to tell someone their name and that person wrote it down. Many mistakes were made and many families names were changed or altered because of this fact. Framer is a name in my family tree that has been butchered many times over the years. The Framer line of my family came from Germany and with broken English I guess it must have sounded strange to those who did not speak German. In my research I have found it spelled Foramer Fromer Frymer Frimer etc. It can make it hard when digging in old manifests and files to be sure it is the person I am looking for. Often one small clue like another family member listed with them helps to prove it is the person and I am on the right track.
In digging and finding out how those brave people from my past came to this country often with only the clothes on their backs just astounds me and the many reasons that brought them here. Some came to gain fortune some came to escape governmental tyrants politics,religion, even to escape prison terms each had their own reasons and motivations for making the trip. Some came as indentured servants serving 10 years or more basically as slaves to the person who paid for their passage on a ship. Not all came first class and many came with nothing more than a dream of some sort. I know what a hassle it was for me to move from state to state or from place to place but my moves although problematic were nothing like what they dealt with and many were not spring chickens when they did so. I have found members of the family in their 70's and 80's making the trip. I think about the women pregnant and having children in the bowls of ships with the cargo. How unsanitary it must have been or them having to deal with that time of the month. Having to be often packed in like animals with little to eat of drink. Many died on the trip over and never made it to their destination. Those brave people traveling many days to get here and not knowing what to expect or what would meet them at the shore.
I find a great deal of pride knowing I came from such people who had a dream of something bigger and were willing to suffer the hardships to achieve that dream. They came form all over the map and their blood runs through my veins. I am German I am Scottish I am Nordic I am English I am Jewish I am Italian I am a melting pot of people from many lands and I want to know as much about them as I can. I am trying to not let this little hobby become an addiction again as it was, am I able to do that you may ask? all I can say to that is time will tell, time will tell.
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