A box full of memories

If you know me even just as a casual friend, you know what a great connection and bond I had with my late father, John Avery. Gees I even named my first born after him. He died 11 years ago and it still hurts every hour of every day. I still miss him I still think of him and I still can't really come to terms with the fact that he's not around. He and I were very, very close and there aren't many things in life that don't remind me of him. One thing about dad is that he was a collector. He loved yard sales, auctions, estate sales that sort of thing. He loved to collect things and well, he was pretty good at "collecting." These days he might have been called a hoarder. I don't feel comfortable with that term. Everything he had he had a reason for. Everything he had held a story and he would be happy to tell you a story anytime.

As a very awkward teenager I had an issue with his "things". Before friends came over I would gather things up and hide them trying to look more normal . Gees...what's normal!?!? As I got older I realized these things meant something to him, these things were a part of him, these things made him happy. So, I embraced it and began to try and see what he saw. And I'm glad I did.

When he died our family was in the middle of a catastrophic event. This event is still going on but I do believe it was probably at its most severe point. I don't really want to make this about "that" or his death so I'll stop there. Once he passed it became the job of me, my mom and well, even my stepdad The Mike, to clean out his house and box up his things. It was really amazing to me that most of what he had, he had in threes. Three china cabinets, three pizza ovens, three tv's, I think he even had three vehicles. It's like he lived his life knowing things would need to be split between my brother, my sister and myself. It was crazy. But, we managed to get everything sorted out and boxed up.

That was the easy part. Living so far away it was impossible for me to bring many things back to CA from my dads in KY. So, everything stayed boxed up in my moms garage for years. Little by little, bit by bit these boxes were mailed to me in CA. When I first got them I was determined to open them all at once. After a couple boxes and about a thousand tears I realized that wasn't going to work. So I made a decision to only open one box a year. On a date of my choosing. This year I decided to open a box at my dads death anniversary. That happened on Thanksgiving last Thursday and today was the day a box was opened. I randomly picked one and here's what I found.

Dads work attendance records:
You would never meet a more hard working man then my dad. I remember when his appendix ruptured at work he finished out his shift, drove home to check on me and then drove himself to the hospital. He spent a week in the hospital and could have died then. As much pain as he was in he still thought of me first. Wow. Included in his special work attendance record he also had all the certificates and awards I had achieved in school. 

Personally I had forgotten about them but it was a nice reminder that my successes were his successes.  It was neat to see these pieces of paper meant something to him.  But then again this really shouldn't come as much of a surprise considering he kept ever single tooth I ever lost.  My dad was also a huge collector of colored glass. 

Mostly the green version but he did have other colors too. All the floors through out the living room and dining room were lined with glass, some three rows deep. This box contained several pieces of that glass.  One piece held a very special memory inside.  One of the earrings I wore to prom.  I can imagine this particular piece of glass was sitting on the coffee table.  I came home from prom, took off my earrings and tossed them into the closest vessel which happened to be that green glass jar.  Pretty amazing that after all these years the earring stayed there.  Seeing it there brought back many memories of friends, boyfriends, good times, bad times, STRANGE times - High School times. And in that jar the earring will stay.

My dad was also quite the James Dean fan.  Many movie posters and memorabilia were around, especially in his bedroom.  I remember when the James Dean postage stamps came out.  I remember going to the post office with him to pick them up.  I remember how he was excited like a kid in a candy st.ore  I can see his smiling face I can see him taking his trademark pipe out of his mouth and laughing his special, one of a kind laugh.  Who knew this many years later that day, that moment would mean so much. 

Lastly, and the most meaningful to me, I found one of the brass candlesticks he used for every meal.  And yes I mean every meal. My dad was known for his cooking.  Even meals like breakfast were special to him.  Even if he had to be at work long before I would be out of bed he was always sure to have a full meal ready for me. No cereal, no toast - were talking eggs, potatoes, sausage, bacon toast - everything, everyday.  I would occasionally hide the food under my bed until I could sneak and throw it out.  I mean really, who could eat like that every day? It is no lie or stretch of the imagination to say every single meal was this way.  Breakfast lunch and dinner this is the way it was.  These brass candlesticks were used almost every single meal.  I am so happy to have a candle in it as well. He was the last one to light that candle and it will stay that way.

These items might look like trash to others but to me they are very special treasures.  Things I will have for the rest of my life even if they get broken.  I will not dust them, I will not wash them.  Something about knowing the dust and dirt on them came from my dad makes me feel like hes here.  Its like a little bit of his DNA is circulating through the house.  A little bit more of him is living with me.  It comforts me.  I still have many boxes left to open and I look forward to each and every treasure, each and every piece of dust and each and every memory that is evoked.  Be careful how you live your life.  You never know if that simple trip to the post office will become such a meaningful experience.  You never know if that misplaced item will come back someday to stir up so many emotions.  You never know when the ones you love will be gone and all you will be left with is their "things". Today I am grateful, thankful for "things" and for the fact that my dad had so many.  For each thing holds a memory and I need more of those. 

 

 



 



 

All the little things

If you would have told me two weeks ago that I would soon be sitting on a plane bound for Kentucky I would have told you you were nuts. But, here I am miles above riding in the clouds. I love living in California but I sure do miss my home state of Kentucky. In the last 12 years I think I have been to Kentucky 6 times. Twice for my brothers trial, once for my dads funeral, once with Morgan pre-kids, once for Avries first birthday and lastly and most recently I flew out with the girls about 2 years ago. When you move away from a place you knew for the first 21 years of your life there is a lot to miss. Of course I miss my friends and family but there are a lot of little things that you take for granted when you live somewhere else.

Take for example restaurants you are accustomed to, even fast food joints. Move 2500 miles away and a lot of those restaurants you will never see again. How would you feel if you woke up one morning and there was no In-N-Out, no Dinuccis, no Cattlemans, no "insert your fav Nor-Cal Restaraunt"? I bet you would suddenly start craving these restaurants all day every day. You may even find yourself trying to recreate famous items from these places to no avail. I know that's what I do. I'm not so sure if it's the food we crave or the memories we made at these places. For me these restaurants include Cracker Barrel (I worked here one summer, it was the WORST job ever), White Castle (the place my brother and I would always go to after he changed my cars oil), Long John Silvers ( where my grandparents would take me when it was my turn to spend the night on Saturdays), Marks Feed Store (where I used my very first credit card for the very first time) & Sonic (reminds me of mom & the house on Arcade where many memories were made). And yes- I fully intend to eat at at least four of these places over the next week. It's the little things after all.

The very worst feeling I have ever experienced in my life and continue to feel was caused by the death of my dad. This feeling is only heightened by the fact that his final resting place is in Kentucky. So many days go by that I just wish I could visit him, put a flower on his grave, just sit and have a moment and be in his presence even if his presence is a grave stone. This would be one minor comfort that would help ease hard days. Now, because of this trip I will get to visit him, if only long enough to leave a picture and flowers. Just to be reminded he did exist and to see more of him than a memory.

My mom lived in several different places in Kentucky when I was  growing up. In each place I have special memories, most of which make me laugh these days. There was the place in Lebanon Junction where the neighbors cat got chopped up in our air conditioner. Ok- that doesn't sound funny. When it happened my brother and I conspired that we were so traumatized by what we saw we needed to stay home from school that day. Then there was the famous snake in my bedroom incident nobody believed me but there it was. If I remember correctly my brother first tried to kill it with his bb gun and when that didn't work a shovel got involved. I remember getting lice for the first time when we lived here. My mom didn't want to embarrass me by telling me so she went out and got me a Land Before Time Ducky puppet and I played with it in the bathroom while she "fixed" my hair. It's funny the things you remember. My dad never left the house that he and my mom shared when they were married. I had the same bedroom when I was born as I had when I my dad died and the house was sold. So so many memories there. It will be nice to drive by there, see what it is now and be reminded what it was then. I'm always jealous of Morgan how he gets to drive by his childhood home anytime he wants.

Four words- Brays Peach Ice Cream. Everybody in the town I grew up in knows Brays. Brays is an orchard, a fruit stand, a place that makes the best ice cream. When I was a kid my brother would sneak and ride his four wheeler there to buy us each a grape soda. When I got older my first job was at Brays. I started out scooping ice cream, then I got to help make the ice cream then I got to work at a cash register. I love that place. Its just one of those places that makes me feel home. I can't wait to see how it's changed and how it's exactly the same.

I'm still sort of in disbelief that I'm heading home for a few days. I must say I do have this overwhelming feeling I'm forgetting something. Probably because I am all alone. This is the longest I've ever been away from my kids but I think this little break will only give them a better, more patient mommy when I return. I can't wait to see my mom, my step dad, my aunts, uncles and cousins. I can't wait to smell the scent of Kentucky, see the giant Pegasus at the airport and start hearing the slight southern accent I grew up. Mostly, I can't wait for all the little things.

A Fair Look at things

I've said it once but its worth repeating, growing up with my dad there weren't alot of things I was allowed to do by myself.  I was rarely allowed to drive myself to and from school and that was only if dad could check my mileage to make sure I didn't go to far.  I was rarely allowed to go to school functions like ball games and dances.I couldn't be in many school clubs or anything because he would not allow me to stay after school for meetings and so on. This being said the one thing I was always allowed to do, for whatever reason, was attend the local county fair.  I'm not quite sure why this event, of all things was ok for dear old dad and why this event, he would gladly give me more money than I could spend and allow me to spend virtually the entire week at a friends house so we could be at the fair from open to close every day.  As a kid and well, up until today I wondered why fair week was essentially a free pass for me.

Every year I would look forward to the fair coming to our small town.  Most years I spent the week with my then best friend Alicia.  Alicia and I had known each other since Kindergarten and we always made quite the experience out of the fair. Alicia was always a much better dresser than me.  I can remember her dressed in the best brands and the newest styles. I always looked up to her sense of style and her awesome wardrobe. I remember we would spend almost the entire day getting ready for the fair. She would pick out her outfit and give me free reign to pick an outfit of my own from her massive, beautiful closet.  After we picked out our outfits we would saunter over to her moms bathroom where we would proceed to try on makeup and beautify ourselves for a big night of fun at the fair. 

Year after year this would go on. Her and I getting ready the whole time talking about what boys we hoped to see there.  Between the two of us I think there was consistently a group of the same 4 boys we hoped to see.  Most times we saw these boys, sometimes we didn't and sometimes we learned the hard way that boys can come between friends.  Overall, I think the entire fair experience was probably one of the most beneficial, educational experiences of my life.  Most of what I learned about being a teenager and how to cope with it happened at the fair.  To this day every time I hear the "I Like Big Butts" song I think of Trimble Co Fair riding a tilt a whirl. There are also certain people, like Alicia, that I cant help but think about when I think about funnel cake, the Gravitator or carnies.

My dad may have been protecting me from the world by not letting me do many things but he certainly couldn't keep me from growing up.  Most of the growing I did happened behind the bars of Ferris Wheel or in my childhood friend Alicia's moms bathroom.  My lesson learned here, instead of trying to blind your kids from what life is about try experiencing it with them.  I know my girls will make hard decisions, some right, some wrong.  I know my girls will find themselves in precarious situations with other kids, I know my girls will make mistakes that will sometimes go unnoticed but other times be crystal clear.  All I can hope for is that I will have a solid enough relationship with them that I will be riding along side them on the Tilt a Whirls of life and not laid back in the distance hoping for the best.

I scream, you scream

As a parent do you find yourself doing some "thing" over and over with your kids and you aren't sure why? I'm not talking about the usual bath and dinner routines. I'm talking about something fun that you find yourself compelled to do with your kids every chance you get. Today I realized I have one of thes "things" and I'm not sure why. I feel compelled to take my girls for ice cream every chance I get. In fact if I could take them for ice cream every day I probably would. I'm not sure why this is so important to me. As a child I didn't go for ice cream excessively. I do remember every visit with my dad required a trip to Brays Orchard for some peach ice cream. But that stuff was great, hard to stay away from. In fact during my last visit to KY almost two years ago, my mom, the girls and I stopped in for some. But other than that ice cream wasn't really a big thing for me. So why is it that something in me feels the need to stuff ice cream in the girls face every chance I get? Could it be that ice cream reminds me of pure, simple times. Kids grow up so fast these days could this be my attempt to keep them kids longer? Each scoop equating to one more day of a happy childhood. Who knows. Perhaps weekly trips to the ice cream parlor are just my way of creating a "thing" that the girls and I will have to do together no matter how old we get. As they get older I'm sure their favorite vanilla cone will change to a hot fudge sundae or a banana split. Maybe it's more simple than that. Maybe it's the joy I get seeing their eyes grow to be the size of quarters as they at handed their scoop or it's the smiling faces with ice cream dripping down their chins. What ever the reason, I look forward to many more scoops in the future. As we get older I'm sure the conversation will change from preschool, play dates, and potty talk to more grown up issues that I don't really want to think about right now. Maybe this "thing" is what will bind the girls to me in the future and make them think of me whenever they eat it. Sort of like I think of my dad every time I see a spider or a lady bug. Someday I might figure out the reason I need to take the girls for ice cream but until then I'll just keep doing it, and I look forward to each and every sticky hand and dirty face.

A New Addiction

I've been denying it for weeks. I keep trying to convince myself it's just a phase, this will pass. I swear that every long night I spend doing it is the last. But alas, it's time to admit to myself and everyone else that I have an addiction. I am addicted to Pinterest. Sad but true. I know. It's all because of you Missy and Jolynn, it's all because of you, lol.

When I'm not cooking, cleaning, or playing mommy I find myself on Pinterest looking for new and improved ways to cook, clean and be a mommy. I feel guilty if I make a meal that starts out of a box as I know there is an easier, cheaper, healthier version of it on Pinterest, just waiting to be found. Never again will I consider cutting construction paper "crafting with the kids". Now it's all about foam board, googly eyes and pipe cleaner. Damn you Pinterest, damn you!

Now everything must have a theme. I never had a "theme thing" before. I can't even get the girls room redecorated cause I can't decide on a theme. Once I have a theme I must allow myself ample time to research said theme on Pinterest. This is a lesson I keep learning the hard way. The minute I decide on a theme some smarter than me pinner pins something better or more creative. Then it's back to the drawing board.

I have also fallen victim to the simple, easy, quick activities that I find on Pinterest. You know the ones I'm talking about. The ones with like 4 components and 2 steps. Then the next thing you know your 6 hours in trying to stick marshmallow peeps on a styrofoam ball. The same darn little peeps that insist on falling off and jumping ship from the time they are put on until you are done displaying them. I still can't get over the fact that once I didn't need the peeps to stick they stuck just fine. Ahhhh!!!!!

So to Pinterest- I both loathe and love you. I need you but you make me crazy. I look forward to the next time I get to see you but I worry what crazy ideas you will put in my head. You, Pinterest are my addiction. In fact I can't believe I've taken the time away from Pinterest to even write this blog, lol.

March again

If you have lived any kind of life at all, then there is likely one time during the year that is more difficult than the rest. For most people I imagine this time is around Christmas. For me it's March. The month of March holds two very special birthdays, my dads and my brother Patricks. I shared a very special bond with both my dad and my brother. It is easily argued that the month of March is also when I lost them both.

I have always been close to my mom and my dad. I remember inviting my mom to be my date at a school dance. My mother and I have a great and special bond. She's like that best friend that you have that you can go years not talking to and when you finally get together it feels like you've never been apart. I swear we have some special psychic bond too. There are days that go by that I just know I need to contact her, tell her I love her and I'm thinking of her. We have a very special connection that will be forever.

My dad and I also had a very special connection. You could say I was a daddy's girl and you would be right. My dad was very hard on me, very strict with me but he was also very sweet to me. One of our favorite things to do together was go grocery shopping. At the grocery store nothing was off limits. If I wanted to buy a lobster for dinner, he would buy two. If I wanted to get the stuff for him to cook me a 3 course breakfast before school, he'd get enough stuff for 4 courses. Heck that's basically what he did every morning anyway. I think that's why I enjoy grocery shopping so much as an adult. He would wake me up in the middle of the night to go outside and watch the bats flying through the street light. We would sit up hours watching science fiction movies and French cooking shows. I can't even begin to describe all of the great memories I have of him. I also can't begin to describe how painful each and every day is because I don't have him in it.

My brother Patrick on the other hand was like my best friend. He is 6 years older than me but never once as a child did he treat me like some bratty little sister. He and I share a very special bond that is unlike any other I have. He knows things about me that no one else knows, he's been there for me when no one else was. No matter what we always had each other and we always had each others back. He is a great and loving man. He is an honest man and he is a man that has been dealt a hand that he does not deserve.

In March of 2000 life as I knew it ended. In a crazy, ridiculous, unjust turn of events my brother Patrick found himself battling the Commonwealth of Kentucky for a crime he did not commit. There are no words that I can write at this moment that will describe what he has been through, what we his family ( this includes Wanda) have been through and continue to go through. It has been 12 years since ths nightmare began. This nightmare that essentially ended my dads life and might as well of ended my moms and Wanda's. To be completely honest it ended a good part of mine as well.In March of 2000 I became numb. Sad things are just "things" in most cases, reasons to laugh might just get a snicker. I try very hard to stay positive because I know positivity is the key to making good things happen. I think people might sometimes mistake my attitude and demeanor as being bitchy or rude. Well, you couldn't be more wrong. I'm just struggling to keep it together.

So, yes March is a hard month for me. I am reminded of all the good things my brother and my dad brought to this world, mainly my world. I am reminded how I can't pick up a phone and call my dad or my brother. I am reminded how numb I really am. But I am also reminded how I will always be my brothers "Scooter" and every time I see a spider I will think of my dad. I can't bring my dad back but I will keep his memory alive even if it means buying a couple lobsters or wearing a coyote skin to pick the girls up from school. And I will live to see my brother home where he belongs and I will try to do for him what he has already done for me. So in the meantime, cut me a little slack if I'm having an off day. It's nothing personal really, is just March catching up with me again.

Little Dog, Big Lessons

It's really neat to me how you just never know when the simple things in life will take on a much larger meaning. You know the times I'm talking about, those random acts of kindness you witness, those miracles that you hear about, all the things that you experience that reawaken something great or kindle your spirit. I had one of these events happen to me last week and in the form of a very unexpected package.

I have been looking for a small dog since before Christmas. The girls and I frequent the beach, parks and go on lots of little walks together. I wanted so bad to have a little companion to take with us on our adventures. Every day I have searched for a dog, every animal shelter, humane society, and rescue within driving distance and even Craig's List. I filled out application after application, made so many inquiries but every time I got excited I would either be denied or find the dog wasn't kid friendly. I was starting to give up and then came Polly.

I found Polly on petfinder.com and thought she was cute so I filled out an application even though her rescue was in Castro Valley. The application clearly said they only adopt out locally (which we weren't) and not typically to families with small kids (which we obviously have). I filled out an application, hoped for the best but expected the worst. The next day the rescue contacted me and we made arrangements to meet at a pet food store in Castro Valley. Morgan has been anti- dog so I enlisted my best friend Emily to make the long drive to see Polly.

Now, it's important to note that I am one of the most directionally challenged people you will ever meet. Considering Emily was with me and we managed to get lost 2 times, I'm going to say she's probably a little challenged in this way too. We finally managed to make it to the pet store, a mere 15 minutes late. We walked in and were immediately greeted by this lady and this little, ragged, ugly dog. It took a minute for it to register that this little, ugly, ragged dog was Polly. If there were any way that I could have pretended not to be me, to pretend I wasn't there to see a dog, I probably would have and would have calmly and quietly backed out the door, got into my car and drove straight back. But, alas that wasn't a possibility so I was stuck, now I realize I was anything but.

Polly was a little shy a first but she was so sweet and gentle with the girls. Piper is typically scared of dogs but she loved Polly. It didn't take much for me to see that this little dog had already won the hearts of the girls and so I began to let her win over mine as well. According to the rescue Polly had been surrendered to the Oakland shelter last June due to her owners having to many animals. Not sure if this means "hoarder"? She sat there until the middle of August when the rescue felt sorry for her and took her. A lady in Santa Cruz wanted to adopt her from the rescue but the adoption only lasted 6 hours. She couldnt handle her shyness. Her loss our gain!

I cant believe how absolutely perfect this dog is for us. She loves the girls and the girls love her. She could care less about the cats, she has no interest in people food, cat food or what lurks in the litter box. She only needs to go to the bathroom twice a day and is just as happy out running around as she is laying in your lap. She's perfect. Here's where the life lesson comes in- if I would have simply judged Polly based on her appearance she never would have had a chance. Myself and more importantly my girls would have missed out on the companionship of a great dog just based on her looks. This is a pretty important lesson. We should all try to remember not to judge a book by its cover, or a person by their appearance. It's also important to note that we should try to encourage and help each other. Each person you come in contact with on a daily basis is carrying around their own "Oakland Shelter" perhaps the way you treat them could make their day a little brighter and their life a little nicer. Bottom line, we should all look out to each other, encourage each other and accept each other. By doing so you might just find your own "Polly" right under your nose.