In a land far far away, I was built by dreams. I don't have a once upon of time because I am always searching for my time. I realized a lot in my life. First , life is not about me and secondly NO ONE GIVES A DARN. Its just a reality based on a what can you do for me society. Growing up I always had food, clothes and my dreams. We did not come with fortitude. My parents were hardworking. My Father was from Detroit and my Mom from Atlanta. They met when she ran into his car in the notorious hot dog drive in of the era while both on other dates. I guess you could say, I adopted my driving skills from my Mom. My Dad was the tough Englishman who looked so Italian. He cherished that mystery over the years as he sported his Magnum PI sunglasses, drive his Corvette's, Fiero's and anything with two seats. This might make you think he was not the traditional family man. Well he was not.
My Dad built or rebuilt cars with my Brother to include a van with a bed cleverly named "guretrude". I believe my Brother enjoyed the benefits of this rebuild the most. He was a teenager! My Brother was my Dad's son and the first born. I cannot remember how many cars were rebuilt or "injured" by my Brother but that was their thing. I remember going out to the driveway in Georgia where my Dad was doing something to the van and , "The Devil went out to Georgia" was playing. Add some Barbra Mandrell and that was my Dad and pretty much my parents. They, we , us and I , well we are, were and to this day country to the core.
My Mom on the other side was a southern bell. Again, not from affluence but stunning. She had dark eyes, dark skin...beautiful skin, the most perfect nose and so petite. My Mom was adopted by her Father and never met her biological Father but her biological Mom was Indian. Jet black hair, I swear her eyes were too and darked skin. She was as mad as a rattlesnake trapped in anything. She was just hateful. She was so lucky to have married an incredible man named Benjamin W Lee. My love for Pappy is beyond any description. Probably one of the best men I have ever known.
When I was little my parents would ship me off to Moe and Pappy. They lived in Georgia then Florida. Florida, Daytona beach and summertime did not seem so bad in the summer except my Grandmother made me lose weight every summer. She was a HORRIBLE cook. Vinegar was her oil and Budweiser was her water. I looked nothing like her so she embraced ripping my hats off which where in style at the time to prove that my "sun in" look was not real. Pretty much the nightmare of a Grandmother. My Grandfather , Pappy shared in these feelings but catered to her like she was royalty. Her first husband was nicknamed "whitey" and was in a band. Odd how that works out. I have no idea ANYTHING about him except his last name was Antkowiak.
My Pappy, my "real" Grandpa was amazing. Benjamin W Lee. I was in middle school/teen when I stayed with them every summer. I was a "good" girl although I did steal a few beers a time or two to sit on a beach you could drive on. OK I was a teen!
So here he came, every night, at sunset, on the beach. I never got in trouble and he made sure of that. He would pick me up and take me back to the house. Smuggled me a popsicle or too and call me little Jana. My Mom's name.
I wet my bed until the day I moved out at 18 of my family home. When I moved out, that very same day I stopped. When I stayed with Pappy and Moe, he woke me up every night, just to go to the bathroom. He never judged. Clearly I was well beyond diapers but dealing with my own troubles and triumphs.
To this day I wear a crucifix ring on my finger that I picked out from a Sears Catalog that he got me. I'll never take it off. Over the years its just become part of me. Pappy taught me love, light and protection.
He passed over a Christmas and remains a huge part of any strength in me. He never stopped believing.
My Pappy's love is forever and always part of my foundation.
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