Wednesday, June 17, 2020

Life and Death

I guess you could say my childhood was chaotic. I definitely did not have the white picket fence, friends living down the road experience. One morning, while I was in elementary school - 4th grade, I believe, my mom woke me very early, we packed a few things and left our little home in Fernley, Nevada. I did not get to say goodbye to my dad. We just left. I was not given a reason. No phone call, No goodbye hug and kiss. Just gone. 

She drove us to Oregon to live for a short time with her only sister and her husband - my dear Aunt Pat and Uncle Bruce. Looking back, I imagine there must have been communication between them what was happening. Coming from a small town to an affluent neighborhood - new school in the middle of the school year was not easy. One look at me and it would have been obvious that I did not fit in. There were many embarrassing and shameful moments that I will not go into. I can also say that this would have been the beginning of my severe anxiety and OCD. 

We stayed there, sharing a bedroom for a short time until we moved out and rented a small house - my mom selling Avon and waitressing to get by. Again, I am sure there was help from my aunt. Another new school, I cannot even remember that one. I would stay with the kids - boys - of a coworker of mom's from the restaurant. That was short lived. After a molestation incident I ran home and when she returned from work I told her I would never go back, saying I was old enough to be home alone. This was a different time - the 70s. Certain topics were not discussed. I doubt she told my dad. Please don't misunderstand - I loved my mom to the moon and back. She was my world. But life was not easy. 

From there we moved again - to Nevada, Oregon, California, a brief stay with my sister Katie and her family in Utah, Oregon again, another brief stay with my sister and her family again - this time in Wyoming, back to Oregon - different states, different towns. Many new schools, always the new kid. Never easy to make friends - we often were not there long enough to forge those lasting relationships. It wasn't until middle school, in Seaside, that I made friends that would stick. For that I am truly blessed.

With my father not in the picture at all during these growing up years and living our vagabond life - we stayed with my brother Mike and his daughter Mari in San Pedro; we moved in with my other brother Buck and his wife and children in Nevada and Oregon; my brothers, brother-in-law Jeff and cousin John became father figures to me. Metaphorically. Again, I was blessed with them filling a role they didn't ask for and probably did not even recognize they were doing.

Mom and I finally landed in Seaside - this was truly home. We rented a cute little house, we were near my Aunt Pat and Uncle Bruce, Uncle Ron and Aunt Janie and all my cousins. It was blissful. I had friends, babysat for pocket money, roller skated up and down the promenade, was a cheerleader. I loved it! Fate was quick to intervene though - my mom became noticeably ill the fall of my freshman year - I knew she was not well when she did not have the energy to watch me cheer at football games. She was diagnosed with cancer and only a few months later, in January she died. 

Family thought it best that I move, yet again, with my sister, Katie, brother-in-law, Jeff, and their three great kids in Wyoming. Again I was blessed. I spent my remaining school years there in Lyman - going back to Oregon for summer and Christmas breaks where I would stay with Aunt Pat at her beach house and also with my cousin Amy, her husband John and their three sweet children. I most likely broke my aunt's heart when I did not move back to Oregon after graduation to attend college. She had aspirations for me. But to be honest, I did not think I was smart enough and I definitely was not brave enough. So after school, I stayed in Wyoming - eventually marrying, having children, divorcing and moving. But that is not this story.

Our family was never large - my mom had one sister and one brother. Their dad, was not a good man and left the world young but not before hurting his daughters in unspeakable ways. My nana died when I was in elementary. My mother - married too young and had a son - they divorced shortly after my eldest brother, Mike, was born. She remarried and within a short time had three more children - my brother Buck, sisters Katie and Tammy. He left my mom with four young children - just walked out on them - and was not in their lives ever again. Many years later - my mom married again - to my dad, and they had me. The age gap between me and my siblings spanned from 20 to 13 years. With that union, I gained another sister - Judy - my dad's firstborn.



My brother, Mike, and sister, Tammy, are both gone now. Leaving this life a few short years ago. Yesterday, I received a call that Buck died. So here we are. I am sad and grieving in Iowa; my sister Katie is doing the same, but in Wyoming. My sister-in-law Donna is grieving alone in a care center in Oregon where she cannot leave and cannot have visitors thanks to the Novel Corona Virus Covid-19. She and Buck did not have children together but they shared a lifetime. Married 45 years - Bad Buck the Bandit and Donna the Belle, as their wedding announcement read. 

I did not have a favorite brother - I loved them equally, but different. Mike was a career Army man, a veteran. Serving selflessly. But sweet, too. Buck was a little softer with me - his awkward little sister - the baby. I remember him driving a cute, blue Mustang when I was a kid. I loved that car! He was mischievous, had a dimpled smile. His pictures from high school show a handsome guy with a sparkle in his eyes. He knew he was a cutie. TROUBLE I'm sure. But he was also unassuming. Often quiet, but observant - nothing got past him. Many mornings, in later years, he would have coffee with Ken Kesey in Pleasant Hill, Oregon - a great American writer of the same era. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall for those conversations!


Donna, Buck and me - sometime in the 80s.


He expected good manners and that we (me and his children) be respectful - that was a given. I remember him being patient with me. Protective over his, our, mom and family. He and Jeff walked me - practically carried me down the aisle when I got married (I was so nervous). 



The rock of the family. I hit a low spot in high school. Few know this but I did not want to live. Getting word of this, my aunt sent Buck and Donna to retrieve me over Thanksgiving to bring me back to Seaside for an extended visit. I remember a knock at my window in the very early hours of the morning - there they were. They took me out to breakfast, wanting to see for themselves how I was doing. After Thanksgiving dinner with Katie and the family we left for Oregon. My rock.


Being so much younger, I do not share the same memories or experiences as my sibs. Buck and Tammy remembered everything! I was always amazed at their skills. So with the passing of three of my siblings not only are there huge holes in our family, but history is also lost. My heart aches - for Donna who is alone. For Buck's children and grandchildren. For me and my kids - they so loved their Uncle Buck! But also for my sister Katie - who has last her last full blood family member. Their shared childhoods, memories. 



Buck was 70 and was coming up on another birthday July 4. All of his children share July birthdays. He made friends easily. Was a craftsman - leatherworker, hard worker, loved his family, adored his wife Donna (he could often be found sharing a lunch with her outside of her window (since the lockdown due to the pandemic). He was a no-BS kind of guy. Loved fishing and sharing wisdom. Missed by many. Missed by me.







Thursday, June 22, 2017

At Peace



This is one of my favorite pictures of her. Here she is young and beautiful, a full life still ahead of her. Looking confident in her 30s. This is my sister, Tamara Alice. She died unexpectedly Wednesday, June 20 in Oregon.

Tammy was a mother to three: James, Deana and Jesse. She was a sister to Mike, Buck, Katie, me. She was a grandmother. She was a daughter. She was a cousin and an aunt. She was a friend. She was preceded in death by our mother, Charlene "Chick" and brother, Mike.

Life for Tammy wasn't easy. Her road was long and rough. But throughout her trials she always loved her family, delighted in telling funny jokes, making people laugh and smile. Tammy remembered everything - she could recount events from her childhood, playing with our cousins and siblings. I loved to listen to her stories. Her favorite place to be was on the beach.

Thirteen years my senior, she wasn't thrilled when I was born. Who can blame her? Being the little one for so long, would make most people a little jealous. But she still loved me.

My life is a little darker without her in it. Words are few. I ponder if there is a heaven, an afterlife. Times like these, I like to hope there is. I imagine her sitting with our mom and brother, Mike, sharing laughs. Smiling. Finally feeling and knowing she is loved.

Please tell your family you love them, often. We only have right now. Tomorrow isn't promised.

I love you, Sis, to infinity and beyond, forever and ever.



Sunday, February 5, 2017

Jackalopes, Bows and a Jack Russell Puppy

My brother-in-law, Jeff, from Wyoming recently visited us in Iowa. He stopped here for a few days on his way, and back, to lend a hand with some friends for a bow hunt in Alabama with the Physically Challenged Bowhunters of America. Jeff is a key organizer for the Wyoming hunt each fall and makes new friends from around the country. Recently retired, he and my sister plan on traveling and are looking forward to this new chapter in their lives. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to make it out this time.

This presented a unique opportunity to spend some time with my BIL. He's been a huge part of my life since I was five-years-old. The Jeff I know isn't a man of many words, dislikes crowds - he is a rugged miner, hunter, outdoorsman. Not the gentle, sensitive type (maybe he is to my sister) but not to the rest of the world. But he is quick to donate his time or a freshly crafted bow to local fundraisers, offer assistance to a friend or neighbor - he's an all-around great guy.

Living in rural Wyoming in the mid-eighties, there were many professional services that you would have to travel out of state for, such as visiting my orthodontist for braces and the maintenance that is required with having them. There were a few times Jeff would have to take me to Ogden, Utah for that upkeep. My sister was busy with their three young children and they were saddled with the awesome task of taking on a teenager after the deaths of my parents.

A trip to Utah with my BIL consisted of: completing the task at hand, such as brace-face annoying teen getting her braces tightened (does anyone remember how uncomfortable that was?); a stop at the archery/gun store (oh YAY!); a visit to the military surplus shop (WHY?); home store for a new tool or two; and rounding out the day at the boat dealership (with me wishing he would get a ski boat and not just a fishing boat - that never happened!). Sadly, even though we were in the city, I would not be shopping at the mall or going to the movies (however when my sis took me that's what we would do).

Lise and Jeff at Antique Archaeology.
So here we are, over 30 years later, in rural Iowa with a visit from Jeff. We had a great time checking out the nearby cute town of Le Claire with a stop at Antique Archaeology and lunch in a historic old colonial with a view of the Mississippi River. We took several jaunts to local attractions: the Amana Colonies, a drive along the Mississippi from Muscatine to Davenport, the local solar farm in Frytown. And we ate out - a lot! Jeff has friends all over the country and we broke bread with a hunter buddy of his (Gary and his wife Amy) - we are blessed to call them our friends, too. It's always fun to catch up!

New jackalope PJs.
Jeff accused me of spending his money!
Looks like he didn't need my help at the candy
store in Le Claire.
But tucked in among these trips was a visit to Gander Mountain in Davenport where we looked at barbecue grills and smokers, ammo and clothing. He left empty-handed but my daughter and I each scored a cute pair of pajama pants adorned with jackalopes. We also stopped at the Buffalo Bill Museum where we spent a couple of hours learning a bit about the wild-haired man from long ago, steamboats on the river, and life in the past. We did not go to the mall, but we did peruse our local Costco looking for good deals (he was intrigued enough to possibly join) and we found just the perfect hooded zipper jacket he had been looking for at Kohl's (on sale, too).

Hill Hardwood - ebony.
I did not think I would ever have a reason to stop into a military surplus store again - but I was wrong. Jeff found the waterproof bags he was wanting, to keep his sleeping bags dry, for an upcoming goose hunting trip to the Dakotas. A visit into our local oil/vinegar store was not without sharing cooking and seasoning ideas with the storekeeper (glad he isn't shy). We also stopped by Hill Hardwood Supply in Iowa City for a piece of ebony. He uses this beautiful wood in the risers on the longbows he makes. The week was topped off with a stop at Bass Pro Shops near Des Moines where we looked at boats, archery stuff, ammo and guns. Some things never change!

Jeff's copilot for his trip home.
He left with his truck a little heavier from the goodies he purchased as well as a tiny, little Jack Russell Terrier puppy. From the day he got here, he kept talking about finding a JRT pup. Mission accomplished - to the ire of my sis. I hope she starts talking to me again!

Local fave - Pagliai's Pizza in Iowa City.



Our time together was filled with talk of politics, hope for the future, losses he and Katie have suffered, happy times remembered, stories of the past, ideas for cooking (he is a great cook), sharing stories of his friends and the funny pranks they've pulled on each other. It was a great trip! We spent time with Tim, Lise, Taylor and Libby - it makes my heart happy when we get to be with family. I will cherish the time we had and am grateful to have him in my life.