OK, so to properly lead you up to how I got to where I am today and the significance of my blog title, I suppose it would be best to just start from the beginning. This is going to take a while.
My mom was the eldest of eight children. Her father was an alcoholic, and from what I have been told (and observed on a few occasions), a very mean, abusive man when intoxicated. He was Irish, came over "on the boats" with his father and brothers. Her mom had MS and was in a wheelchair by the time her youngest sister was born. There is only three years difference between my aunt and I, so I never had the privilege of seeing my grandmother walk. My grandma was one of the sweetest, kindest, soft spoken women I have ever encountered and I loved her immensely.
My mom had the burden at a very young age of caring for all of her younger siblings and the household chores, as well as enduring the abusive behavior my grandfather inflicted on her and her siblings. She said the boys always got beat the worst, but I believe her abuse was far more detrimental. She left home at age fifteen with my biological father.
I was born on September 23, 1966, in Dunedin, Florida. Mom was sixteen by then, "SD" was in his early twenties and in the service. I am not entirely clear on the whole story, but by the time I was six months old, he was gone. My mom says he came from a rather dysfunctional family ~ alcohol and drug use, alcoholic parents, lots of brutally physical fighting amongst he and his brothers, etc. They were of Cherokee descent somewhere along the line. He allegedly signed adoption papers in lieu of paying back child support when I was two. I will fill in more details about him later.
At around a year to 18 months old, my mom met my "DAD". He was in the Navy, but got out for about four years. During that time, we lived on a quarter horse farm, where my dad worked breaking and training horses. Some of my earliest memories are of a yellow striped cat named Buffy ~ I used to dress her in doll clothes and pull her around in my red wagon. Those were happy times. I believe my dad also did some salvage diving and some race car driving during this time period. We lived in various parts of Florida. My mom used to tell me I looked like the Copper Tone baby, with my blonde pig tails, dark tan, and droopy bikinni bottoms full of sand.
By the time I was four, my mom and I were expecting a baby boy ~ that was MY baby!! "Junior" was born on August 23, 1971, in Indian Head, MD. I suppose with the coming of another mouth to feed, my dad decided to return to the Navy and a more stable career. Stable it was ~ retired as a Master Chief after he served 23 years, working his way through diving school, Explosive Ordinence Disposal Team training, and earning his Bachelor's degree. We lived most of his career in Virginia Beach, VA, but spent some time in Indiana and California, both of which I will add details about later.
