Day 14 .... Sadly, some people are raised in a home with a mom and a dad and their siblings. I feel a bit sorry for them. This was NOT the life for me, and I think mine ROCKED.
You know how sometimes the smallest things in life can become the biggest? The summer before I was to enter the second grade, 'the three of us' moved out of our little apartment on Bomar and into a HUGE apartment in the
You know how sometimes the smallest things in life can become the biggest? The summer before I was to enter the second grade, 'the three of us' moved out of our little apartment on Bomar and into a HUGE apartment in the
Storybook Apartment Complex. I mean, while this one still only had one bathroom, it had two (count 'em...TWO!) bedrooms. Kristi and I would no longer have to share a room with our mom. Our mom would no longer have to sleep on the couch. Sing along with me..."Well we're moving on up...!!"
Little did any of us know how much this move would change our lives. But God did. God placed us right smack next door to Lucy (a divorced mother) and her two daughters Karen and Kathryn. And all of us girls were quite close in age; Kristi and Kathryn both being born in 1961, me being born in the best year, and Karen following in '63. We all hit it off immediately. Instead of having a family with a mom and dad and a house ... we got two moms, instant siblings and two attached apartments. I was in their apartment every bit as much as I was in my own. I was disciplined by Lucy every bit as much as I was disciplined by my own mother. And I know that goes for everyone else as well. Karen, Kathryn and Lucy became our family, and we became theirs.
Most of the time, Kristi and Kathryn were running buddies, because, let's face it, they were so much more mature than me and Karen. And most of the time, Karen and I were running buddies, because we were so much more fun than those two snooty older ones. But on any given day, with just the right fight, the dynamics easily changed.
Our moms became best friends as well. After work the two of them would feed us the proverbial pot pie (mmm!) or tuna noodle casserole (ick!), and then they would sit out on the back porch smoking their cigarettes, drinking their adult beverages, and listening to (who else?) Kris Kristofferson. They would talk about their days, their dreams, their defeats. And they would sit on that back porch overlooking that empty field with that warehouse sticking out like a sore thumb, and they would talk, and they would drink and they would notice how much it bugged the crap out of them that someone had mispelled "warehouse". The sign read "wharehouse". And of course, there is no "H" in "warehouse", but low and behold, there is an "H" in "whorehouse", so with a bit of paint and a bit of alcohol, our mothers fixed the sign. (I think this is where we all get our need to edit.... we came by it honestly. We got it from our mothers) And we lived this way for a few years, and then we moved. We all moved into an even HUGER apartment. This time we moved into Brookwood apartments where we not only had two bedrooms, but we now had two bathrooms!! And my mom got married. And even though we lived in the same complex, we no longer lived next door. We no longer shared a common wall. And eventually Lucy would remarry and move to a house. And we would eventually move to a house. But we have stayed forever friends. Forever family.
Sadly, Lucy is no longer with us. She died a few years ago. I remember being at that hospital with Lucy and my mom. Lucy had just been moved to a new room. Lucy's chart and belongings hadn't made the transition yet, but we had. Lucy's mouth was dry. Desperately dry. In her gravelled voice she was asking for water. My mom told me to go to the nurse's station and get a cup of water. I tried, but I was told that they hadn't received her chart yet, and once they checked everything out, they would bring in some water. ...and that is when my mom went all "Terms of Endearment" on their asses. I sat with Lucy as my mom stormed down to the nurses station. I could hear my mom as she told those nurses that Lucy was dying. That she was going to die no matter what. She was going to die with water and she was going to die without water. And the least they could do was to make her comfortable for the little time she had left. And my mom came waltzing back into that room without saying a word but holding a cup of ice chips. If you have to die, you want my mom by your side.
So yeah, today I'm thankful for my mixed-up family ... the one with two moms and four little girls. I'm thankful forKaren Elizabeth Kalberer and Kathryn K. Stepanski and Lucy. They are the best.
Little did any of us know how much this move would change our lives. But God did. God placed us right smack next door to Lucy (a divorced mother) and her two daughters Karen and Kathryn. And all of us girls were quite close in age; Kristi and Kathryn both being born in 1961, me being born in the best year, and Karen following in '63. We all hit it off immediately. Instead of having a family with a mom and dad and a house ... we got two moms, instant siblings and two attached apartments. I was in their apartment every bit as much as I was in my own. I was disciplined by Lucy every bit as much as I was disciplined by my own mother. And I know that goes for everyone else as well. Karen, Kathryn and Lucy became our family, and we became theirs.
Most of the time, Kristi and Kathryn were running buddies, because, let's face it, they were so much more mature than me and Karen. And most of the time, Karen and I were running buddies, because we were so much more fun than those two snooty older ones. But on any given day, with just the right fight, the dynamics easily changed.
Our moms became best friends as well. After work the two of them would feed us the proverbial pot pie (mmm!) or tuna noodle casserole (ick!), and then they would sit out on the back porch smoking their cigarettes, drinking their adult beverages, and listening to (who else?) Kris Kristofferson. They would talk about their days, their dreams, their defeats. And they would sit on that back porch overlooking that empty field with that warehouse sticking out like a sore thumb, and they would talk, and they would drink and they would notice how much it bugged the crap out of them that someone had mispelled "warehouse". The sign read "wharehouse". And of course, there is no "H" in "warehouse", but low and behold, there is an "H" in "whorehouse", so with a bit of paint and a bit of alcohol, our mothers fixed the sign. (I think this is where we all get our need to edit.... we came by it honestly. We got it from our mothers) And we lived this way for a few years, and then we moved. We all moved into an even HUGER apartment. This time we moved into Brookwood apartments where we not only had two bedrooms, but we now had two bathrooms!! And my mom got married. And even though we lived in the same complex, we no longer lived next door. We no longer shared a common wall. And eventually Lucy would remarry and move to a house. And we would eventually move to a house. But we have stayed forever friends. Forever family.
Sadly, Lucy is no longer with us. She died a few years ago. I remember being at that hospital with Lucy and my mom. Lucy had just been moved to a new room. Lucy's chart and belongings hadn't made the transition yet, but we had. Lucy's mouth was dry. Desperately dry. In her gravelled voice she was asking for water. My mom told me to go to the nurse's station and get a cup of water. I tried, but I was told that they hadn't received her chart yet, and once they checked everything out, they would bring in some water. ...and that is when my mom went all "Terms of Endearment" on their asses. I sat with Lucy as my mom stormed down to the nurses station. I could hear my mom as she told those nurses that Lucy was dying. That she was going to die no matter what. She was going to die with water and she was going to die without water. And the least they could do was to make her comfortable for the little time she had left. And my mom came waltzing back into that room without saying a word but holding a cup of ice chips. If you have to die, you want my mom by your side.
So yeah, today I'm thankful for my mixed-up family ... the one with two moms and four little girls. I'm thankful forKaren Elizabeth Kalberer and Kathryn K. Stepanski and Lucy. They are the best.
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