It Started With My Family...

Okay so I learned A LOT about how to be in the world from my family.  Right or wrong, my parents, siblings, aunts and uncles, grandparents and cousins taught me many things. 

I was a shy kid growing up. Not too many friends, not really close to my siblings, and when visiting at relative's homes, I believe I was pretty invisible.   At school is where I shined more.  I loved school!  And I was pretty darn good in the 3 R's.   But my favorite classes were my art classes.  And my favorite place to be, in school or out, was the library.  I never got the impression that my parents really knew all this about me.   I got good grades and pretty much could do my homework on my own.  It just always seemed that it was expected I would be smart and self-sufficient in my academic studies.  This would play a part later on in my education after high school.

I have a sister, who is a year and half younger than me.  Once she was old enough to sleep in a big people bed, we had to share a bed together.  My brother came along a year and half after my sister, and once he was old enough to sleep in a big people bed, the three of us had to share a room together.  Me on the top bunk, the younger two on the bottom bunk.  We learned to share a room, but heaven's to Betsy, we were not known for being model sharers of toys or anything else.  My sister recounts that she was told to sit between me and brother in the back seat of the old Dodge Gremlin because my brother and I just didn't get along.   That would really wouldn't change much as we got older. 

My sister and I weren't close, but since we were both girls pretty close in age, we did get along a little better.  We sat next to each other at the family dinner table, during the years we all 5 ate together as a family.  I don't remember too many fights at any meals....but we were different in more ways than just birth order.  In high school she was the popular one with her huge group of friends.  She always seemed to be the one that controlled everything.  I always wanted to be in her group, but never really was allowed, except when some came to our house to play cards.  Once she was out of the house, we really did nothing together.  And as time went on this wouldn't change much either.

My Mom raised us 3 kids in a most practical manner, making sure we had a roof over our heads, food to eat, and clothing.   Until we hit high school.   Once I was old enough to hold a job, I had to work to earn money for a car and its expenses, my own clothes, and my own hygiene products.  Not a lot of outward affection was beheld on us, and this would play a most huge part in my development as a person and as a Child of God.  

Finally, there's my Dad.  He was a unique soul.  I have good and bad memories growing up with him.  Until recently, I dwelt on the bad stuff more than any of the good stuff.  It seemed to outweigh everything.  Dad worked until I was 12, then suffered a mental breakdown and was diagnosed with Bipolar Disease.  A terrible disease that took more than a year to properly be diagnosed.   When we were young kids, he played with us.   We had fun with our Dad!  After his diagnosis, nothing was the same, and I never grew to be close to him.   And in 2000 my Dad was killed after getting hit by a car.   All of these tragedies would play a huge part of my ups and downs in moods over the years. 

And this is just the tip of the iceberg of the things to recount from my youth and early adolescence.  Opening up about my family was always something I wanted to do, but wasn't sure how to do so and definitely not an easy thing to do.  I learned a lot from these four people in my life.  Some good, some misguided, some not resolved until recently, and a few not resolved yet. 

                                 ..........  hang on for more.  The ride gets bumpy from here on out.