Just thinking, again

Sometimes I get into a thinking mood, remembering stuff, writing it down, or sometimes just thinking it then moving on. There have been many times that I would like to write a book, but then who has not thought of doing that at one time or another? Most people, I suppose. We all tend to think that there is nothing in our lives that anyone would want to read now, or ever for that matter. We consider ourselves nothing but a mere speck. Nothing in the big picture. I don't believe that. I think we are all important. We are. So many spend so much time looking for something, for who they are, or who they want to be, or who they were, was it enough? I feel that living our lives, no matter how we move ahead or how much money we have, fame fortune, good looks, it all comes down to just enjoying the day to day life. Spending time with those we love. Letting them know how much we really do care. So many people are going through their lives wanting so much more. I cannot deny that I have been this type of person for a while. I am not sure what happened. Somewhere along the line I lost my focus. When my job as a mother was put on the back burner, I felt lost. I had never planned for a life beyond raising my kids. A lot of us women do this. Some never do stop. They butt in to their familie's lives and still reign supreme, even down to telling them what to do and when to do it. So, children move far far away to avoid having to deal with it. Yet, the phone is there so it really never truly ends unless they just don't call or return calls. I am fortunate that this has not been the case with me and my family. Yes, there were control issues, many of them. My folks never did really untie the apron strings. I detached from them in my own way. I don't think my mother ever really got over that. I will never know because I never discussed it with her. I tried with my Dad, I really did. He totally did not understand what I did or could not say. I wrote him a letter. I probably should have never mailed it because he never responded more than to say he did not understand a lot of it. So, I don't know what he really thinks about it and about me. When I was growing up I wanted his attention and love so badly. I knew he was away working and needed to be. When he came home at night, we would spend time together. This was in my teen years. He would sit on the floor and I would rub his shoulders and neck. He was always so tense from work. He would even let me end our ritual by combing his sparse hair. I can still remember that smell, of his hair oil. He sometimes worked more than one job. When he did that, we barely saw him. He would get home at night at our bedtime. We would say hi and bye and that was about it. Our family was always struggling to pay the bills. It must have been tough to feed 3 hungry children, a dog and 2 parents. I remember him and mom talking quietly. The only time I ever heard them speak to each other unkindly was when the bills were being paid. This has echoed a lot when we were raising our own kids. Now I hear it with the grandchildren. Economic times have never been good for us. Scraping by seemed a natural occurance. I think my grandparents stepped in and gave mom and dad money to help out whenever they could. They too were not making any real money. They had enough, nothing more. No luxuries for them. The thing is, I never heard one complaint about that, ever. I remember when dad would milk the cows, run a milk route, then go to his construction job. Then he would do the reverse when he got home. My brother Jim took over the major help with the milking at a very young age. I think he was only about ten or so when he was out in the milk barn with a stool and pail getting ready to teeter on the t shaped stool while he squeezed slowly to get the milk started, then away he went with both hands, soon finishing one cow and moving to the next. I remember the smell of the milkbarn. A cross between the smell of hay, milk and cow poop. An interesing smell indeed. I have no direction with this story, only the time telling it. It is fun to sit and remember the good things about the past. I got so wound up feeling sorry for myself for a while that it was not funny. I was not pleasant to be around for a couple of years. Going through the change was a wicked trip and sometimes I still feel the angst of what I could of or should have done differently. How would my life have been different had we had more money? I will never know. I do remember my friends seemed to have SO much more. They got more and better things from Santa. They were always buying new clothes and shoes, even purses. I thought after we moved things would get better, but they never did. We moved to a community that was clicky and if you had not been born there, you would always be an outsider. My folks never really neighbored much due to that and the fact that they both worked so much. I really came away from those times being an okay kid. I never thought much about not having as much as the next family. I just felt a terrible feeling of not belonging. I blamed it on my being overweight, but there were other girls who were overweight that never felt the way I did, or were better at covering it up than I was. Who will I be when I grow up? I may never know. I just might never grow up at all. Peter Pan had the right plan, after all. That is why so many people take jobs where they can continue to play. I know it is. So long till next time. Katie