My Story

Once upon a time because all good stories start with "Once Upon A Time".  On a warm summer evening on a road bound for no...oops, think that story has already been told.  How about, on a warm Autumn afternoon on a Montana gravel road, a bike coming from school held a frightened little girl.  Dressed in a pink and white shirt collar dress and light brown hair in pigtails, she stopped at the 1950's version of a mailbox and frantically looked for the red truck with the beet box.  If the truck was not in the yard, she could be pretty sure that dad was in town and would come home drunk.  It is difficult to separate what the Koch place looked like when I was 7 versus how I remember it as a teenager.
Out front along the road were plantings of Russian Olive trees.  There was a leantoo chicken house and a red A-frame pighouse.  The barn was pretty shabby and the corral sat in a kind of swamp.  Everytime it rained there would be nothing but mud for the cows to clump around in.  I always felt sorry for them because they were so muddy and looked so cold in winter.  When it was milking time they would climb up out of the mud to the barn.  I was always happy when it was summer and dry.
Getting back to dad, I really really hated him.  He would come home drunk and complain about what mom had done or not done.  Mom's parents, particularly her mother, was a constant subject he thrived on because it was the one thing that would make mom cry eventually.  When she began to cry, he would stop, stomp out the door coughing, and get lost in the wheat field.  Mom would always go to look for him.  If I had had a gun, I would have shot him. 
This might give all you kids some direction in parenting.  Love and kindness, compassion and empathy produces joy and harmony and kids who love and appreciate both parents.  What I grew up with produced a very complicated and confused child, girl, woman. 
And now for the rest of the story. 
Many years have past, dad died in 1982 on March 11 mom's birthday.  Before he died, I had started a relationship with God/Jesus and, through prayer, God provided an opportunity for me to sit down with dad.  I told him how I had always felt about him but, now that I am older, told him I understood much better why.  We didn't go into those things because I'm not a councilor and didn't really know how to address it.  I did tell him I forgave and hoped that he forgave me and my bad behavior while growing up.  He didn't say anything and I probably walked away too soon thus not giving him a chance.  Mom told me that he accepted jesus on his deathbed.  I'm looking forward to being with him again where only love will abound.

Just another rainy day

Actually it has not been all that rainy since I arrived.  In fact, Sunday was a very beautiful sunshine day. I got here via Southwest on the 16th.  Michelle, Rob, Alexis and Keegan drove from Richland on the 18th.  It was a good weekend.  Always nice to spend time with my family.  Isn't is interesting how life changes over the years.  I'm definitely not in charge.  So difficult for a person like me who likes control.  That characteristic of mine is not my most charming feature and has probably costs me more emotional distress than any.  Why am I talking about this?  Don't I have better things to say to occupy this space?  This is making me anxious, think I will escape again into another book of fiction.