Parents

What makes a good parent?

When a couple finds out they are expecting and they start living for the good of the future.  Buying up life insurance and investing in a new  home, furniture or some other favorable life changing commodity. Start worrying about what’s healthy as far as food and exercise. of course the big challenge is making the whole world safe for your little toddler as he rolls, crawls, stumbles then runs straight through life’s door.

When I saw the “your pregnant” on the pee stick.  Life for me changed greatly.  No more smoking, drinking or staying up late.  I was into heavy lifting and after meeting with some good doctors.  I slowed down and eventually stoped that too.  Eating healthy has never been an issue.  The love of fresh vegetables and organic foods where embedded  in my taste buds when I was born.  Grandpa was a farmer and grew most of our foods, as well as my first stepfather, he did the same.  For the most part if it didn’t come from the earth we didn’t touch it.

Now I have my son and unfortunately his early years he had to learn from a single mom that spent many hours shopping in a store to fill our bellies.  Welcome to the wonderful world of GMO’s and many other chemical shelf life sustaining things out there.  Now as I form my new little family. Finally little man is learning to eat more healthy as for my husband loves farm fresh over supper market chemical mush or fast food human engineered over salted what ever those things are growing in those little dishes.

When it comes to exercise I see so many children lack, including my own.  I come home from work and feet scurry to put away the video games or shut off the television.  This makes me wonder why it is even here.  Kids from all over come to my house for many reasons.  The number of kids that want to play games on the gaming box TV thing is outstanding.  The sun shinning and the clouds with fluffy shapes make no allure for them to venture out into the great out doors.  My son has been diagnosed with Hyper active disorder or something along those lines.  I demand he plays outdoors riding a bike, shooting hoops, catching footballs or just running.  There are times I have to join him or make playing sound interesting some how. There will be “NO” medications to make him drool or look like he is shifting into another time and place.  We all sleep real well at night.

What about the parent that is afraid of the slightest tinge of dirt?  Those children that stay locked indoors never knowing what a blade of grass feels like under their feet. Dirt is good! Really, please let them be children.  Who didn’t grow up with mud pies being in the sun? I know I did.  Though I have to admit, I won’t let him swim in the local pond.  Now that I’m grown I know what people hide in them. Sand castles, mud pies and playing dump truck are immunity building healthy stabilizers.

There was a time when family services was called to investigate on a 3rd party complaint. Some where someone saw my son’s father hurting our son.  The investigator came to my house and explained it was an anonymous caller from the shore area.  Hmmmm interesting!  After going through my house and searching cabinets, refrigerator and my sons bedroom. I was informed “the child has too many toys therefore the abuse would have started here”.  Not feeling this 3rd party anonymous complaint thing at all.  What if your Wonderfull child is loved by many and receives gifts of all sorts almost all the time?  Does that make us bad parents?  Ladies from church, Family members, babysitter, most of your friends and the occasional person are just overcome  by  cute smile and child like charm. Trust me the single mom did not have time or money for the toys little man had or still possesses.  Really though, what is too much?  Taking away gifts others have given isn’t that just as bad? What about the broken promises that leave a child in tears?  The Christmas list is longer than Santa’s beard but all the child receives is a dollar store rocket.  It doesn’t even survive the whole day.

Bottom line all kids are different and respond to different levels of love, bonding, discipline and respect. The parents should be role models but then again to a young child we have rocks for brains. The popular basketball, football, baseball player has all the answers.  There is no directional manual popping out with them and every rule book you find are all different from each other.  Just love your kids even when they say they don’t love you.  Hug and kiss your kids coming and going.  You never know when it’ll be the last time you will hold them in your arms or hear the sounds of their laughter.  Treat them fairly and try to give them a reasonable say in certain situations.  Single parents your not alone.  Over worked and extremely  tired parents it takes a village and unfortunately they don’t exist anymore especially around my area. Just breath deep and keep it moving.  During those trying times count to ten, go outside to scream but most important just breath.  Kids get it, really they do.

Laugh, love and find time to listen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Growing Pains

B 2 B


A long time ago in another lifetime, I met my first boyfriend at the tender age of sixteen.  He took my breath away with his muscular upper body all tanned perfect. He was crouched down by. t he pool with a cigerette hanging out of his mouth. While testing the PH balance in my cousin’s pool and looking sudpersexy.  He was the pool boy for that summer season. Which ment he had to check on the pool everyother day and had access to he swim there whenever he wanted. There still is the little mom and pop grocery store across the street where a person could and still can all day swim with all the food you could that could be afforded.

Needless to say  that very summer I became the primary babysitter and not just for after school hours.  I was also hired for day trips and vacations to…

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The Nobody

Everyone has that moment when the minds sky can’t get any darker and the subliminal rain is like icy cold pins and needles tormenting the soul.  All a person wants to do is curl up like a stale cinnamon roll and be all green and fuzzy until some scrounge looking animal scarfs them down.  Down in to the dark pits of a minds hellish depression.  You have to admit to yourself that of (No one loves me, I have no friends and everyone hates me) have twirled around in your head.  Maybe even slipping between your lips like a flaming sword stabbing hurtful words in to the hearts of all those that really do care.  They don’t understand because not one person in your crummy world could feel the feelings that are flooding your emotions.  So you think?

What could be fueling these terminative moments in anyone’s life? Yes, terminative is the intended word for this piece.  These selfish and hateful thoughts begin with the victimization we all go through on a daily basis.  unless you are one of those people that are perfect in every way.  From the perfect coiffed hair, brilliant smile, slender frame, outgoing personality and the newest sense of style.  Then again someone hates on you too.  Maybe the person that stays home and takes care of the house while having all the above.  Nope, somewhere some one is hating on you too. I do know a few people that are extremely upbeat and care free but they too have a doubtful thought every now and again.  Not as bad as the one described above.

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In my experience those types listed above are the adult bully’s.  Not wanting another person having more or getting more then they already have. The ladder climbers that have little to no experience with the exception of whats between their legs.  No harm no foul if God gives a person an expertise then by all means work it.  Just don’t hurt another living soul climbing up the ladder on your back.

I hurt more for the children that have not lived long enough to battle with the ill minds that embed such garbage into the their hearts and mind.  Everyday they ride the yellow bus to school and talk with they friends.  As parent that is what we all want to believe.    Bright eyes and beautiful smile on the mini me that runs around the playground.  What about the one that stands off to the side all alone  on the playground or request to stay in the stuffy classroom with the teacher?  Do you know what your child does all day when you can’t be with them?  Please ask them on a daily basis what the day’s activities consist of,  who they communicate with and what those verbal exchanges are like.

A work friend lost their youngest child.  When it was rumored to the how and why.  I cried.  Their pain and mine.  Being a single mom for so long and providing like I was both mom and a dad wrapped up as one.  Somedays there was just not enough time to get it all done. Working seventeen hours just to get off work and pick up an already sleeping child from the babysitter.  I don’t miss those days but I do miss what I missed in those days.  The work friend found out his child was being bullied at school.  Made it my mission to hear every word that was being said with a brief description of facial expressions  and body language.  This may sound to you non-realistically crazy.  I’m not the one to say, “Not my child” to any living soul that has these types of nightmares.  It was a little over the top so now we discuss each there’s day and help each other filter out the nonsense of our day.

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The fear still creeps into my chest when he steps out my backdoor and into the multi colored reality of the real world.

I personally have not lost a soul to the wistful ways of depression but I will admit that the first paragraph was me at one time in my life.  Today I am thankful for everything I have and everything I am.  The true friends that give me their love and support as well as the family members that are always there for my husband, son and myself.  Most important gratitude goes to my mini me fore he keeps me going full throttle ahead though life hills, curves and bumps. Therefor I try to return the life lessons and listen with out being heard.  I am here.

 

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Humming Bird

via Daily Prompt: Song 

Baby Humming Bird flap your wings and try to sing a song for me.  The Blue Jay twirls and the Chickadee Tweets and together there love songs are way to sweet. My only wish is to hear more then the humm of you beautiful wings. The Robins blast out a spring time  tune. Uplifting and happier then the band flute.  My precious Humming Bird your beauty can not be compared.  I just wish I could hear you new song just for me.

Time Capsules of the Mind

As the days grow longer with the long awaited soft spring breezes.  Birds are singing excitedly with the promise of a hot summer sun soon to come.  This will be my second  year here and my first full year married and living here.  From day one I nicknamed the homeland as paradise and now my paradise with special areas for serious contemplation and solidarity.  The calming effects of mother nature are breath taking.

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Walking the perimeter of our yard inhaling the fresh cut grass and enjoying the new buds getting ready to show their exuberant colors.  My mind drifts back to a moment in time when I really didn’t care about time.  I’m almost there in my happy place watching my grandfather plant the flowers or trim the bushes.  I called his yard the Garden of Eden.  I truly believed that the gates to heaven where in that yard somewhere and would spend many hours searching.  Under the big pine tree where the wild berries grew and we children ate till our stomachs hurt.

Hiding seek was one of the favorite games to play in the big back yard with it’s many bushes surrounding the perimeter.  Back then they where the castle walls that protected the pearly gates and wonderful hiding places for free bases when running from a freeze tag.  Every now and then homes for baby rabbits, squirrels or kittens.  My grandfather had a sitting area built for grandma when she wanted to relax in the afternoon.  We would sit and tell stories until dusk while roasting marshmallows.

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Past the neighbors house, past the mean looking dog and through the woods lived grandma’s brother and his wife.  Uncle Ruben and Aunt Hattie where an odd couple now that I look back in my memories time capsule.  He was content staying in his home reading the newspapers and listening to someone play the organ.  I remember banging out Sunday church tunes while grandma clipped his toenails for him.  I don’t remember his passing or the mourning loved ones.  It was like he just wasn’t there anymore. His organ showed up at grandma’s house and I tried very hard to make the music sound nice.  I pray it helped him find the elusive heavenly gates in the back yard.

During the school season I lived with my mother but ever morning before going out to meet the bus. I called grandpa on the phone.  That number should be forever implanted into my mind but sadly enough everything has a time to leave.  We would ramble about our dreams and he would tell me to be good and we never said goodbye. Saying goodbye meant you would never see that person again and I never wanted him to leave my side.  He was my life line, my savor.  One call of distress and someone would come and whisk me away taking me straight to him.  The saddest day of my life was the call the grandma answered and told me I would never talk to him again. After the funeral I watched his dog walk off and never come back followed by his wonderful trees and bushes. Even the flowers stopped blooming or lost their vibrant colors.  The days became dull and grey.

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Grandma’s smile wasn’t so bright and she would forget to wash or comb her hair.  I didn’t smell the Avon Sweet Honesty through out the house. We had to watch where we sat on the couch because when she was in a mood she refused to get out of her spot.  Firs I moved in to help with the upkeep of the house.  My Aunt Sissy would come everyday to make sure she ate healthy and had clean clothes to wear. It was decided that two females shouldn’t living alone so my older male cousin moved in to keep a watch out for the both of us.  His best friends came over frequently and one of them, even though he was much older, became my best friend.  As time rolled on he became like a brother to me and acted like a big brother as well. He taught me how to play chess and we would talk about God’s promises.  Though I never told him how the Gates to paradise disappeared.  He helped me smile again and he listened to me and respected me. He praised every good job and picked at every boyfriend I had.

Time moved on like it always does. We kept in touch until one cool summer day I ran away.  Moore like drove away, cross country far away.  I was running from my past and away from my future.  Needed to get a fresh place and a different pace in my life. There was no idea of what was wanted or even where to go.  Staying with a friend and her family until everything could be figured out. A few months felt like a lifetime and not everyone has to be around for a person to wear out the welcome. It was time to get on the move again.  Missing family and friends made the travel time home go by quicker then it did getting to where I was. WhenI was finally there but not I had a lot of growing up to do.  An adult just doesn’t run away from there life. I found a job, then a place to live just to find out I was not welcome with my family and my friendship pool was lightened.

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My one constant was there for me to cry on his shoulder and get over the loss of grandma and the many family members that no longer had time for me or treated me like I had died myself.  Though he was newly married and I even felt a little strange speaking with him about my life.  He was to happy with his new life, new wife to have to listen to mine.  I moved on again trying to make my way again.  It wasn’t long again when the Dr’s found something wrong and needed fixing immediately.  I prepared my mind for the worst and attempted to make my last goodbye to my mother.  I planned on never speaking to her again. Never did the thought occurs me that my up and coming death notification would make her jump to her feet and welcome me home.  She was there through the major surgery and recuperation.  She even help me get an awesome job at the time. Finance was and still is awesome, mentally disturbing then and still is and unbelievably I am still there.  It wasn’t long that melon lost but happy brother walked in to the same employment.  There we caught up as he told me wonderful stories of his wife and he listened to my found love for religion again.  We both seemed happy with the way our paths where taking us.

One moment in time he asked if I could help him get his wife a job.  I explained how civilians found their way in and not long after I met the misses. We became sociable friends and closer as we both became pregnant a year apart. Work hardships, mental abuse and maybe even a little discrimination brought us even closer.  Even though we spoke on a normal basis, I was not prepared to hear the news that my brother was facing the curtain and may be searching for the gates of ten thousand steps.  My heart hurt and I promised to keep the family secret.  Even though every fiber in me wanted to scream.  There is not enough time. No!! The alarm clock sounded and he began his walk home. I’m not ready to say goodbye.  I couldn’t on that day and I can’t now. I still ask him questions and beg him to say hi to grandpa and grand ma.  I dream of one day having my garden with big trees and bushes where baby bunnies can play.  Demonstrating the love and patience for Mother Nature that grandpa had.  I want my son to see me smile and remember my favorite perfume while dance in the rain.

I never want to have to say good bye. Until we meet again up on the roof in heaven. That sounds a lot better.

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That Day

 

wp-1522109797090..jpgThe day had to come when the Mr. would meet the last ex. I must ask a question before I go on.   Why is it the last ex is this mind numbing internal competition to the here and now?  I suppose it’s that way with females as I have unfriendly feelings to my Mr.’s last ex. That though of wondering what they where like and what attractions they held. Even though I had the ultimate meeting with his ex in  a courtroom.  Where I actually had litigation against her.wp-1522111213039..jpg

I would have to assume that we all imagine what that first awkward meeting would be like.  I pictured the Mr.’s ex with long flowing black hair. Tall but not so slender, yet defiantly not a huge frame. A smile that could put many stars in the sky to shame.  I knew she was from Puerto Rico and spoke Spanish fluently.  For the most part I assumed she had that spicy personality that most the PR woman I know have.

It was all wrong, all of it.  She was short and squatty like E.T. and her hair was frizzy like mine with extremely bad hair extension.  They where way to obvious for them not to be on the fake side.  She smiled when she got her first glimpse of my Mr and revealed a not so nice assortment of miss managed teeth. The stomach sleeve that my Mr. helped her get was obviously not doing the slim down trick for her.  Making me wonder if my considerations are all wrong.  As we argued are legal points, I had to think hard about what he saw in her whiney disposition.  Dissolutions dissolved, (No!) threat there for me.

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Now my Mr. on the other hand must have had some of the same thoughts about my ex. When there is a conversation where the name of the ex comes up there is a lot of eye rolling and flat tire noise. That one was not the one, all I really want to do is shake his hand and say Thank you. He broke it off with me and at the time I wondered what was wrong with me. wp-1514213202344..jpg Then of course I went through the angry stage.  Though that didn’t last all that long.  I got back to working out and spending major quality time with my son.  The last few weeks of summer break where days to remember.  Especially when the car overheated and I met the nicest mechanic ever!  That was and always will be my Mr.

Back to; The day had to come when the Mr. would meet the last ex.  Major store closing means nice sale items.  I really didn’t have a need to be there or so I thought. Family day we all stopped for ice-cream at a local make your own Sunday kinda place.  There. was a flyer for the store closing and my son and I recounted good memories and items purchased in that store.  My Mr. revealed that he had never been there before.  So we decided to drive over and have a look see at what they have left.

wp-1496239057250.Walking through a packed parking lot.  Watching the shoppers enter with strict emotional restraint all over their faces.  Children excited about going into a toy store. The shoppers that where leaving with large bags had facial expressions of glee and satisfaction.  Mr. and me hold hands as we walk across the street.  Our son was singing to himself and hopping from one foot to the other in a weird kinda skipping.  We all step up on the cement curb in unison. I was the only person to look to my left and recognize the 50’s poof of grey picked out afro.  I whisper in my Mr’s ear: this is the day you will meet my last ex.  Then with a twisted smile he said back. “I don’t think so because one look at you and he turned around so he could see you no more.”  I looked over again at the faces of 2 older but non the less devastated kids as they were most likely being told they couldn’t go into the toy store. In that moment of time the only thing visible of the man was his fuzzy afro and the back of his wrinkled shirt.

wp-1522110377511..jpgThere where no words but in a moment of time.  With the space of  few seconds the truth screamed out in large volumes.  This man and I’ll use the term loosely threw me away on the words of another.  Accused me of being the devil and disillusioning  him in the ways of the lord.  I used my body to make him sin against all that is good.

It’s not my fault God made him weak in the many ways of his mind.  Again I am most thankful to the woman who believed I should never be happy and told him to run as fast as possible.  Thank full for the preachers wife who opened her legs on a pew in order to become a preachers wife.  She was the one that called me a sinner and not of their stature. His running faster than light brought me closer to the real man of my dreams and my fairytale wedding.  God is the glory and all thanks to him on high.  He organized the whole thing making me stronger and our family happy. Dissolutions dissolved, (No!) threat there for my Mr.

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Life

Sitting in the same room every day that is filled with people and still feeling like I’m all alone. Many thoughts bounce around in my head like a pinball machine on high score mode. Yet those thoughts feel like they can not be shared with anyone. Not in this room.  Will not, can not be shared with another English-speaking soul! To think English is the only language I speak fluently.  The people in my life at the moment are venomous creatures chewing on every piece of personal information they can receive. When this information can and will be distributed to the multitudes, then it will be regurgitate at the worst possible time in my life.

After having many emotional knife blades stabbing my brains grey matter. To the point that it spills through my eye sockets and dribbles from my ears.  I hit that subliminal wall  that is constructed in every living persons conscience.  After many months of keeping my problem solving thoughts to myself.  I have decided to make my thoughts known to whomever feels the need to read about the mind numbing, disturbing thoughts that creep through my mind.  again if you make it to the end of my story please comment of experiences, truths or facts.  I really don’t want to be the only person living a lie.

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While in the planning stages of my dream fairytale wedding.  I learned from the Wiseman, that was picked to officiate that special moment in our lives, that the man I knew as my father was not the sperm donor I thought he was.  Don’t get me wrong.  Every person on the face of the earth has horror stories of their childhood.  My childhood had its moment but for the most part it was I had a happy one.

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Spending summer months with my fathers parents was always the best memories.  Cousins, riding bikes, playing with dolls, eating junk food while sharing secrets of the days back then.  Everyday was jammed packed with everyday child experiences that shaped out some of the person I am today. The words the wise man spoke as he named who the real sperm donor was. At the time did not shatter my world.  I grew up with this man in my life ages 3 to 16.  There where more shadows in those times but again many smiles made a day more livable.

I grew up on a farm in a little town that many people drive by everyday.  When they blinked,  they would miss it. Alone and lonely I was the female surrounded by rough and tough little boys.  We where always getting into unmeasurable amounts of trouble.  So I was constantly being punished for my unfeminine behavior. Not allowed to leave the yard for extended periods of time. So, I would talk and play with my animal friends.  Soon I developed chores such as feeding or cleaning up after those animals. Even learned how to milk the cows.  Many long days filled with hard work. When I got older and could count well enough, I went with my step father to sell vegetables on the road side. Sometimes I received tips from people shocked to see a kid of my age by the road selling food when I could have been home having fun.

My mother told me many times over that she left my father because he wouldn’t stop cheating on her.  He would say mean things about or to her and hurt her feelings.  She left my stepfather because he didn’t hold to a real job. The farm was falling apart because he gambled too much.  Truth we did lose a lot of our live stock because of his poor gambling techniques. * Reality check; mom lost a lot of weight and she ran into an old flame.  A so-called soul mate.  At that time I was starting to move on my way at the tender age of 16.  Babysitting kept me away from the house for many days at a time.  Money in my pocket helped me to afford staying away for even more time.

20170625_174001After setting the Wiseman straight about my parental background by producing to him the birth certificate that my father signed all those many years ago.  I had the perfect romantic, traditional, fantasy wedding a fly by her pants kinda girl could have. Time moved along then came the birthday I share every year with my son. A week later  The marriage of my youngest stepson came then the birthday of my new to me granddaughter. As the birthday of my new husband approached I sweated out what I could get a man who lives the life he always wanted.  A DNA test.?.

Cuddled up on the couch watching TV we saw a commercial about a young woman traveling the word to experience where her DNA is from.  My husband in jest made a quizzical statement about finding out he was related to someone famous and I figured out loud I’d be related to a rock! Over the next few days of surfing the internet the same ad appeared many times over.  DNA testing find out who you really are.  Boom, I was sucked in.  While signing up on line the DNA site tells me order 2 and get a nice discount.  Okay save money and order 2!

screenshot_20171130-211724.pngThe waiting had begun for the test to arrive in the mail.  Daydreaming starts to develop on a daily basis.  What if I’m related to someone famous or a famous serial killer?  Then the memories flood back of a tearful preteen ripping through her stepfather’s office looking for adoption papers.  I have nothing in common with my family.  I don’t look like anyone in my family.   I really don’t get along with anyone in my family. The lost feelings of being unloved and unwanted thrown away in my early twenties.  Homeless and living out of my car until I found a young man who introduced me to some of his family.  Some of them lost and alone just like me.

wp-1472002990480.pngThis man’s Uncle had property with chicken coops on it.  The coops where remodeled on the inside for human living.  I don’t remember how many where there.  I do remember we all looked out for each other.  The ones with cars gave rides to the ones that didn’t have a car.  The ones that worked purchased food for the group.  Some cleaned while others kept maintenance on the small houses.  We all where the forgotten kids but we all worked together to be somebody at least in our circle. As far as I know we all succeeded in life thanks to an elderly man who believed in giveing kids a hand up and not a hard time.

 

Many years passed with me wondering who am I or what about me is so repulsive especially to my family.  Aunts treating me like a Demon seed offering help only if I go to church.   Actually there was a lot of people who questioned my beliefs in God.  With God in my life I would not have ended up needing help. Without God I would not have traveled up and down those crazy roads of life while staying on my feet. The day has come and I’m closer to proving I belong not only in this world but I belong in this family.  The test arrived in the mail. My husband and I sat at the kitchen counter going over the directions together to make sure we did it right.

Step 1:  Spit in the bottle up to the dotted line.

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Step 2: Clasp on the special bottle cap.

Step 3: Place bar code on the bottle

Step 4: Mail back to the lab.

It felt like we where spitting for hours but we got the job done.  One step closer to figuring this whole family thing out.

My father is Native American and Dutch.  My mother is Native American, Dutch, Spanish and Afro-American. I grew up learning the Native American ways and wondered if my genetics gave me the care free I will survive anything attitude.  The smell of the world after a soft rain or the fresh smell of dirt in spring inspire me.  I can make friends with almost all animals and have a soft spot in my heart for them before most humans. Its undeniable that is what I am. Then a little voice in the back of my head told me to remember my stepfather is Greek and unknown.  My step fathers  mother met his father while he was visiting in the mountains of Virginia or so the story was told. He had just got off the boat from Greece and brought her to New Jersey to get married and live their life together.  He passed away a long time before she did.  Now you will soon see whats been weighing so hard on my mind.  I like dancing in the wind with no shoes on my feet.  I can’t sit in one place to long, forever the gypsy in me won’t be still.  What if my mother let some long ago secret slip out of her mouth and in to the ear of a Wiseman.  At the time of my wedding it was assumed she was trying to upset me.  Could she really have been cleaning out old bones in the closet of her subconscious?  I always had many questions as to why things happened the way they did so long ago. Those in the know have been silent to long.  the clock ticks loudly when it comes to the truth.wp-1473350398096.png

Waiting took forever and in time all worries where put to the side. Jokes forgotten about being related to royalty vs the city pauper.  Life moved on as it always does, swiftly.  As I walk trying to get my exercise steps in.  I look over  across the street to the house that once belonged to my grandparents and my heart breaks.  The memories of days gone by with hugs, laughter and tears. That long ago where diluted by the winds of Father Time. The words of my grandparents echo in my ears and still haunt my dreams.  Grandma’s smiling face  as she cooks dinner while listening to her soap operas.  Grand pop a sleep in the recliner before dinner.  I no longer feel them within me.

The test results finally come in and sure enough my husband is related to royalty.  Unfortunately the king was beheaded many years ago.  Me on the other hand have no DNA markers for Native American,Dutch or Spanish.  Who am I?

 

My highest DNA marker goes to India?FB_IMG_1495302978013