I don't have much to blog about but I told a family member I would continue and keep on. I am just babbling.
My oldest child is a correctional officer at a minimum security prison. He has never been assaulted in five years, then a few days after his 5 year anniversary he was. He doesn't talk about his job much but once in a while something slips. I am so happy he transferred out of that department. What I find amazing is what prisoners hide and no the prisoner on the news didn't have a broomstick in his pants. It was another incident and in this incident this prisoner had a whole different version of pulling out a can of whoop ass.
On the lighter side....My sister is considering writing her "memoirs." She had read an article in Readers Digest and decided to give it a try. Being the family historian I would recommend this to everyone. I sent my grandmother a book titled "Tell Me About Your Life, Grandma" and even though she hated it, she filled it out. It is a family treasure. Since my sister was having a hard time starting, I recommended that she purchase a book similar to the one I sent Granny and just fill it out. Then she said I need to do the same. The sad thing is I have no long term memories.
None whatsoever.
I can barely remember what happen a year ago let alone 45 years ago. All of my childhood memories come from other sources and when I hear stories of my childhood I am fascinated. I just can't believe I did this or that, or said this or that, or ate this or that. My mother told me last night I ate a box of chocolate ex lax and had to have my stomach pumped. I was AMAZED. "I ate what?"
Was I born with a brain deficiency? No, no, no don't answer that. I have my sister and mother to tell me all about myself and I need to be writing their stories about me down because I won't remember them next year. That is why pictures are so important to me. I can look back and say, "I was there." I don't know why I was there but I was there.
22 hours ago
4 comments:
You may have read one of my posts in which I encourage people to do that, as well. It is important to most of us to have that sense of our own history to know who we are.
Even if you don't remember much, Pepper, write down the stories you are told. It is someone else's perspective, but it is better than nothing. And write snippets about the photos. Even a line or two. Here's why: My brother who is the family historian found a journal our paternal grandmother kept for five years. He transcribed it and sent us all copies. I think the longest entry was 3-4 lines, and many were about the weather. Yet a handful of entries had tidbits that were very meaningful to me, just a sentence that reflected her love for my dad or about a visit from my family. We didn't live near my paternal grandparents after I was about 6, and they both passed when I was in my early teens. My memories of them and knowledge of them was limited, but reading that journal brought her/them much closer to me. Your sister is right .... do what you can. I know your kids will appreciate it.
oh mom you're such a fruit loop.
yay for deanie though. I hope that she reveals more about you and our crazy family.
The Impatient Explorer invents a box in which all journeys may be kept. ~Patchen~
Dear Pepper,
Your blog is your box of treasures and your memories. Your thoughts and adventures, humor, anger and fears and your delights will be wonderfully kept safe for you to savor later. Think what a joy it will be when you are someone’s ancestor and they are able to read these pages. Just think how exciting it will be for your great or great-great granddaughters or grandsons to read about your adventures (way back in the day) and get to know who you are and how you still live in them.
I so love when I find a small note or even just a greeting on a saved card. It can fill my whole day with queries and memories and thoughts of that person and the way and time that they spent their lives. I imagine their strengths, struggles, fears and their hopes and I imagine the joy when they conquered and had triumphs.
Some of my very favorite reads and my inspirations to succeed have come from Anne Frank’s diary and the works of Laura Ingalls Wilder “The Little house on the Prairie” books. Just to think that two young girls writing about their small lives would give so much to the world. It is more then enough to make one’s heart sing. And then there is that little boy Mattie J. T. Stepanek, whom while on his rapid descent to an early death (he suffered from a rare form of MD) took the time to write what he called his heart songs. Several books were pinned by this young man and he has been recognized by so many as a poet and peacemaker sharing wisdom that was way beyond his years. I am currently in the process of ordering his books for my grandchildren to read. Me too. Mattie Stepanek died the month before his 14th birthday but his heart sons live on. His lovely legacy to the word has been in the messages he left behind in his simple heart songs.
I’m sure Anne Frank felt that no one would be in awe of her and treasure the words written in her little girl diary in the darkest of her days. I often wonder how happy she would be if she realized what a great gift she gave to the world. Her life had more meaning then she could ever have imagined. Her life was not meant to live in darkness and die in Hitler’s war. It was so very much larger than that. And Laura Ingalls Wilder’s journal of memories allows us to wander back to some of America’s finest early roots and values and dreams. In reading her memoirs we can imagine what fun can be had for all little girls to have freckles and to lay in a field of flowers and be barefoot while they fish.
Yes...girl...your blog is a very good memoir. What a great gift to give to your family and who knows…maybe to the world. It’s been a great gift for me.
Keep us posted, please.
XXXJolie
Oh and two other things...
First I have worked with the criminal element and I can tell you that your son has no easy job. A prison is a very scary place to spend one's days no matter what side of the bars you are on. One is dealing with a whole different batch of people who live by a whole different set of rules or worse yet no rules at all. I liken it to a pack of wild wolves bunched together and the people who try to corral them in are generally various types of domestic dogs.
It's hard for a dometic dog to be around the wolves because wolves will fight dirty and to the death and they do not care how sweet and nice the domestic dog is.
So I send out positive thoughts to your son and all the others who have to spend so much time with them.
Second...I was told that I had an ex-lax incident when I was a child too. No stomach pumping for me. I heard that I excreted the ex-lax...in it's new form...all over the place and what areas weren't a natural hit as it squirted out where covered by me when I decided to use te excreation as a medium for my early art. Hell...I guess a artist will use whatever medium is handy. I don't think the adults ever bought a laxative again. LOL
Makes me wonder (now) how many baby boomers have shared our experience with ex-lax. Too funny.
We always were a bunch of little poopers.
XXXJolie
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