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!
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.
