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Saturday, January 22, 2011

Understanding father

To me growing up was for the most part a wonderful experience.  Looking back I was given so much more than my older brothers and sisters.  THEY had a tough life with dad.  By the time Gary, me and Princess arrived life was easier, he realized some of his mistakes and I truly believe he was trying to make amends.  But still there was a time that I wish my father had been a more affectionate person, demonstrating his love by hugging us kids, holding our hands and not being so critical of our dreams.  He was a dream killer and good or bad I think some of the things I did were because I just didn't have the emotional support I needed.  I emphasize I in that last statement, as it wasn't the same for my older brother Gary, but I think it was for our younger sister Princess.


Life with father

When I was a kid I know I went to job sites when he was in construction.  It was great being able to play in a pool he was building, or on the piles of wood that would be there.  Gary and I played games and we had fun.  I don't have a lot of these memories, but I remember seeing pictures and I was there.  When I was in school dad would be home around the same time we got there so we didn't have a lot of babysitters.  Living at the Permane St house in Oakland right across from a Chicken plant.  Don't remember if it was a hatchery or what, but it was across from where we lived.  During this time my brother Pete and Alex lived with us and Pete was driving so I must have been around 7 or 8 and he was 18 or 19.  One incident happened that I remember was my brother had just brought home his shinning red car, newly painted and I went and touched it and left my fingerprints.  I thought my brother was going to kill me.  Traumatic experience for a little girl.  My brothers always made me cry, but Alex was the worst.

Alex I loved so much.  He would comb my hair, give me style, talk to me and I would do anything for him.  He was also cruel and enjoyed making fun of me, making me do things that he knew wouldn't work and just a real pain the ass.  Still I would try to please him.  It was during the time of Elvis Presley as he would slick back his hair and was a good looking young guy.  Alex and Pete were 2 years different in age so he must have been 15 or 16, before he went into the Army at age 17.

My memories of that house were some fun times.  My dad had this ability to go down to the Goodwill or Salvation Army stores and bring us home stuff to play with.  We didn't know it was used, it didn't matter we had a new set of skates or the big thing 3 wheel bikes.  We had a route that took us from the kitchen into a bedroom though a bathroom into another bedroom into the living room then back into the kitchen.  We would race our bikes and skate round and round through the house.  Crazy when I think about it now.  It had hardwood floors, a cool porch in the front and back and all my dad's construction stuff.  It also had an upstairs attic that Gary and I would play.  Loved that house.  Loved that time.

Baby Sister Cracks Her Head

Another thing that happened in that house was where my sister cracked open her head.  She was a little girl then 3, 4 and 5 years old.  Well my mom had these coffee tables with really sharp edges and my sister was playing and rang smack into the table corner.  I didn't see it happen but I sure did hear all the hustle and bustle to get her to the hospital.  At that time my feeling for my sister were "Great maybe she'll die and I'll be the baby again."  She was not my favorite sibling and I'm sorry now for being so cruel.

Dad during my teen years was different again.  Maybe he was the same, I was changing and seeing things at a different prospective.  I didn't personally get many beatings, but lots of threats.  But my older brothers and in later years I heard from my sisters that my father was violent and did physical beatings to get his point across.  I remember hearing my brothers cry out from getting the belt or 2X4.  It only happened to me once that I really remember and it was after my parents figured out who was stealing money and they beat me.  But it must have had an impact on me as I remember that I didn't want to make my dad mad and being so afraid of him.  I never could ever talk to my dad and I am sorry for that.  We never talked about he did in the Navy, or give information about where he came from or where his family came from.  Things I'm sorry I don't know.

Parents give advise and directions, my dad from my prospective gave no advise just criticism.  I remember telling him I thought being a Police Office might be something I would want to do when I  grew up.  I remember him telling me "you'd be a lousy policeman cause they would give you a hard luck story and you would let they go".  I mentioned being a Nurse and again he would tell me that "with all that blood I would faint and not make it".  He never gave me direction as what would be good for me.  Needless to say, I never found my calling.  I don't think he really knew me that well, I feel missed out and sorry I was so weak to hide behind my fear instead of challenging him.  The day I graduated high school I thought it would all change.  It didn't.  I wanted to live on my own and his response was "girls don't move out and if I did he would disown me".  What a terrible thing say?  What was he afraid of?  I never moved out till I found someone to marry cause that was the only way I would be able to move away from my dad.  Sorry Bob, he was my first failed marriage.

Next time I'll talk about school, social time and how I got away with so much.  Till then

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