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and the honor goes to...part 1


This will be a series of posts in which I honor people who have made an impact in my life, both in my past and in my present. I am blessed to still have some of these people in my life; others have left this life for their next one; others are no longer a part of my close circle, yet still made a difference to me. I want to share them with you. I want to honor them. I want them to know how much I love and respect them. The first one is dedicated to my childhood babysitter, Pat B.

Growing up, both of my parents worked. This meant that my sister and I went to a babysitter when we were younger. We had a few, but the one that we spent the most time with, and that I remember the most, lived right up the road from us. We were actually neighbors, but being in the country, that meant a cornfield separated us. I recall being there when I was in kindergarten until I was old enough to stay by myself, probably around 12 or 13.

I love to reminisce about my time there. It was my home away from home. They were like my family. Well, except for her son - I had a huge crush on him, so I didn't see him as family! But I looked up to her three daughters like they were my older sisters. They wore makeup, and listened to awesome music, and marched in parades, and had boyfriends, and were just so cool. Her and her husband were my surrogate parents while I was there. Thinking of them, of being in their home, evokes these memories:

...bologna sandwiches and koolade for lunch. Sometimes we were lucky enough to eat dinner there also and that is where I learned to eat Kraft macaroni and cheese with cut-up hot dogs mixed in and ketchup all over it. I loved that meal. I still do. And I think of her every single time I eat it.
...at home, it was just my sister and me. Here, there were lots of other kids to play with. Downstairs in their basement were tons of toys. Outside, we could play in the backyard, or on the swing set. I even remember playing in the cornfield.
...that she watched her soaps every day while us kids napped. The Young And The Restless. Days Of Our Lives. Another World. Later, these would be the same ones that I watched.
...that she helped to nurture my love of reading. She encouraged me to read, and had plenty of available books. Thinking back, they weren't exactly 'kid' books, but it helped to develop the love that I still have for reading, and the love that I passed on to all of my own children. I recall when I could finally skip the actual nap and would read instead!
...the time she took just me and one other girl to lunch at McDonalds before dropping us off at school for afternoon kindergarten.
...this is where I watched my first horror movie - Motel Hell - and fell in love with that genre. I actually don't remember her being there when that happened, so I'm guessing that her kids were in charge and didn't see a problem with me watching it.
...swimming. She took us anywhere there was water available. When we were older, we were allowed to walk with her kids up to the neighborhood pond and swim there. She even made sure that my sister and I made it to our summer swimming lessons at the municipal pool.
...that I met my first "boyfriend" here at the sweet young age of 7. We spent our days together at school, our afternoons together here, and our evenings on the phone. Oh, puppy love!
...that I would help pick peas and beans from the garden and shell them for 100 pennies. A whole 100 pennies! That seemed like such a large amount of money to me back then.
...going places in her car, singing songs like The B-I-B-L-E or I'm H-A-P-P-Y, cramming as many of us as we could into the backseat. Or the time her son picked us up from swimming lessons, and upon seeing a cop, slammed on his brakes and we all went flying! (were there even seat belt laws back then?) We never told her though, because I'm pretty sure we liked going fast!
...their dog, Precious. She was a red, short haired dachshund that waddled everywhere. It seemed that her stomach was almost to the ground, but maybe it was due to her short, stubby legs!
...when her first granddaughter was born. And then her second one. And her mom coming to visit soon after that. And going to her Uncle R. and Aunt M.'s house and playing kick-the-can in the road there. Her family became like my family.
...the day that she was killed in a car accident right outside of our house. I try not to let that day overshadow all of the other days, to recall instead the good days. The truth is, I don't remember too much about it. I'm pretty sure that I've blocked a lot of that time out of my mind. It's too hard, even now, 30+ years later. I still cry. It still hurts. I still miss her. I wish that she could see me now, see my children, see my life. I would tell her that I'm okay, that this smart alecked kid turned out just fine, thanks in part to her and all that she instilled in me. Respect, and family, and love, and confidence. I tell my children stories of my life in her home. They know why I love hot dogs in my mac and cheese. They know all about Motel Hell. They know her, through me, through the stories, through my memories. She lives on. Her legacy lives on, through her children, through her grandchildren, through me. I am thankful for her, for all that she did for me, for the memories. I love her. And for her family reading this - Thank you for sharing her, and your home, and your lives with me and all of the other children who came through your doors. I am forever grateful!

 

 

 

Comments

  1. It's been so long since I checked into your blog, and I've really been missing it. Your writing is so insightful and you always bless me with it . I love you, beautiful lady!

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  2. What a lovely tribute! Enjoying your posts--so honest and real.:)Blessings!
    Pam at 2 Encourage

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  5. thank you very much the wonderful woman you speak of is my grandmother i did not know her but your kind words give me insight on very loving and fun she was

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