I'm a mild-mannered business consultant by day, a free-spirited writer, artist, singer/songwriter the rest of the time. Let's subscribe to each other! I'm excited to be in a community of writers and I'm looking forward to making friends!
Before my children were very old, I worked in retail in order to obtain Christmas cash. Aside from occasionally telling a customer that their glasses were on their head, or that the purse they were looking for was on their elbow under the package they were holding, nothing out of the ordinary happened.
The Weevil People
Growing up poor gave me a unique perspective on entertainment. One summer, the radio station hosted Tuesday night $1.50 carloads at the drive-in for anyone using their bumper sticker. So, mom, (queen of pranks and scare tactics), loaded the station wagon with bags of popcorn and coolers of tea, together with plastic tumblers from home.
A Brotherhood of Children
I’m eternally amazed by how little my parents knew about my childhood. My cousins, siblings and I had a “brotherhood of children” and saw life as “children against the grown-ups.” When I shared stories with mom as an adult, she didn't remember them because we kept huge secrets.
As recently as October, 2021, Alzheimer’s and Dementia stepped up their game and began working hard to take our mother away from us. A lot of people know and love my mother as someone with an infectious smile and a laugh larger than life. Most would remember playing hide-and-seek at the big house in Fort Wayne, or playing “Red Light/Green Light” in the yard at my grandmother’s house in Augusta, or her singing, laughing, playing pranks, etc., but one thing is certain, they’d definitely remember mom having to get the first and last hug and then waving good-bye until she couldn’t see their car any more. Those closest to mom understood her insatiable love of art and natural light.