History Part 2: Childhood Memories.

I am always amazed by people who say they remember clearly things from when they were children, as young as 2.
For myself, my childhood memories are patchy and I'm often unclear of the age at which the memory occurred. I am going to write some memories out but memories are subjective - meaning how I remember a certain event may not be how others remember it.

My memories from the "old house":
This was basically a cabin with a few chicken coops pushed up and attached for bedrooms.
My earliest memories are more tactile than clear.
I remember the smell of mom baking bread in the wood stove. I remember the warmth of the stove. I remember watching my mom bake a lot and stoke the wood stove and the comfort of the smells.
I remember the ice on the floor getting out of bed in the winter to use the "pee pot". I remember how warm, comfortable and crowded that king-sized bed was with 4 of us sharing it. The 4 youngest shared the bed and the 3 oldest got a triple deck bunk bed.
I remember the pot belly heater in the main room. I remember mom telling us to "look out for Marty" every time we opened the root cellar. I remember the dank, musty smell of the cellar and seeing the boys or mom getting canning out of it. I really remember the spiders!
I remember an uncle being drunk and breaking my favorite stool. Not sure which uncle, either George or Joe, both gone now. I remember the parties my parents sometimes had and of course, sneaking drinks.
I remember the outhouse and how frickin' cold it was in winter.
I remember we had a chicken coop and collecting eggs with mom.
I remember the boot room and getting ready for school.
I remember when the dug the basement for the new house. My brother Rick, martin and I collected frogs out of the hole and got in heck for it:)
I remember sledding down the hill and how fun it all was.

I think my sharpest memory, and the one I "blocked out" for most of my life, is the last memory I have of the "old house". That one is explained in "A History Part 1 under The Day It All Went To Hell".

Memories from the "new house":
This was a house my parents had brought to the farm. A 2 story with 3 bedrooms, a proper kitchen and living room and a bathroom.
Mostly I try not to think too much about this house. The best times were had outside of it.
A good memory is when they put the chimney in. The youngest of us kids use to sneak down the hole from the top floor to the kitchen or sometimes even to the basement.
My dad putting drawers into the walls of the bedrooms is another good memory.
There may be 1 or 2 more but I think I'll save them for another note:)
The Bad ones will definitely go into another!

Defining Dorothy

My definition of myself is complicated. It consists of many aspects and thoughts.

1. I am a believer - I believe Jesus Christ was/is real and did die for our sins. I believe in the Trinity.

2. I am a mother - I raised 4 beautiful daughters who have become wonderful women. They have social conscience, empathy and are very aware of who they are and what they expect from life{most of the time}

3. I am beautiful - inside I am a beautiful person even if no one thinks so by looking at my outside. Even if I hate the way I look, I know inside my soul I am beautiful.

4. I am a thinker - I love to think about all sorts of things. My brain is always working on something. I love that most of the time;but, wish it would at least take a break when I sleep. It doesn't though. I know my dreams that I remember are often ways of working out something that has been on my mind.

5. I am smart - I do have a lot of knowledge. Quite a bit from experience and a lot from reading, doing crosswords, watching documentary type programs, listening at the right times, etc. I may be intellectual in some things but am quiet stupid when it comes to social things. Mainly because before this point in my life, I never really cared about socializing. My family was always the biggest part of my life; but, now the girls have grown up and moved on, my siblings are all becoming more distant and I am becoming housebound {for a variety of reasons}

6. I am crazy - Yep, Yep I am:D I accept that I have many mental health issues. They make life challenging and interesting. Sure, I would like to "get better" and often feel that is not possible; but, on days like today - I love who I am even with the "issues" I have:D

7. I am an open person - I love to share what I know, what I think and what I have experienced. I don't care if some people don't like it. It is who I am!

8 I am honest - I try to be 100% honest with others. Sometimes I have failed to be honest but it is because I was worried or scared of what others thought. Also, I will lie to save someones feelings - won't intentionally hurt people. Honesty is a trait I admire in others. Dishonesty is something that is likely to drive me to do "crazy" things.

9. I am disabled - Though my disabilities are not "visible" to most people they are present and at times overwhelming. Still, I am still alive and kicking. I can still function, although at times I don't feel like it.

10. I am obese - By definition an obese person is someone who is more than 100 lbs overweight. I am. I have lost and gained weight numerous times since having my children. I do worry a little about my weight and sometimes let it define me; but, mostly I don't dwell on it - that would be too depressing. I do hate when family or friends try to "joke" about it or "advise" me about it.

I Believe:

I believe peoples actions speak louder than their words.
I believe that when some people are caught in a lie or lies they often attack another person to cover up the truth.
I believe most people make mistakes.
I believe in giving everyone as many chances as they need to be a friend.
I believe "forgiveness" is up to God, not me.
I believe "you can't judge a book by it's cover" and you shouldn't judge a person by how they look.
I believe true friends will stick by you no matter how crazy your actions may appear at times.
I believe I do have some very good friends, true friends on a certain social network.

Gone But Not Forgotten!

My dad, passed away in 2000, gone but definitely not forgotten. Still see his face in crowds or other men. Still think about him all the time. Still miss him terribly. Still cry over him sometimes:(

How can you miss someone you barely knew? Someone who wouldn't let you in? How can you still care for someone who hurt you deeply?

My dad was a very private and troubled man. He barely shared his life with me; but for all that he was still my dad and I loved him or who I knew him to be. I loved playing cards and games with him. I loved our rare but open chats.I loved the way it felt on the rare occasions he would hug me. I never took the chance to say so many things I wanted to say to him, always thought it was the wrong time and now will never get the chance.

Caring for emotionally distant or withdrawn people can really hurt; but, it is something I always have a tendency to do. Maybe because of my father, maybe because they remind me of myself. For many years of my life, I lived inside of myself only. Not allowing myself to feel anything. Not allowing myself to express anything. Sometimes I think it might be better that way; but then someone comes along who makes me smile or "hugs" my heart and I know it isn't.

Sure there are many, many tears and a lot of heartache in this world, especially mine; but when I shut down emotionally I also stop feeling the positive things. Things like love, joy and hope. A few moments now and then of someone actually caring for me can remind me how much the pain is worth!

Dedicated to my dad, Albert Lenard Abbott.

A History - Part 1

My life in a nutshell:

First memories are of our small farmhouse near Gunn.
Warm, happy, crowded,busy.
Remember my mom baking bread in the wood stove and smiling.
Remember My brother always falling in the root cellar when the trap door was open.
Remember the smell of the root cellar being moldy,musty and yet inviting.
Remember waking up in the winter to ice on the floor of what was our bedroom.
Our being my 6 siblings and I.
Remember sharing a king size bed with 2 brothers and my sister.
Crowded by comforting!
Remember my mom saying the place was built from 2 chicken coops pushed up to the existing structure to make the bedrooms.
Remember the pot bellied stove for heat:)
Remember some parties my parent's use to have.
Remember my Uncle Joe breaking my favorite stool when he was drunk.
Remember I wanted to be around the adults and older kids a lot.
Then remember the day it went all to hell!

The Day!
I guess I was about 4 or 5 years old - don't know for sure.
I wanted to see what the older boys were up to in the barn - even though I was not suppose to go up there.
I tried sneaking up to the hayloft but guess I wasn't quiet enough.
My brother must have heard me because he convinced me to come closer.
There were 5 boys in the hayloft - 2 brothers and 3 cousins.
They were looking at porn magazines my dad had.
They told me this is what mommies and daddies do when they love each other.
Then they asked me if I wanted to be a good mommy.
I did I told them!
They said I needed to know how to do what was in the books.
Then they took turns....
I try not to remember anymore details but sometimes am unsuccessful!
All I remember for sure is those images in front of me on the hay bale.
Kneeling or bending over a hay bale and pain!
I remember shutting down all feeling and wishing myself somewhere else!
I remember being told I could not tell mom or anyone as I was not suppose to be in the barn.
I hid for a while in the bushes and cried until I couldnot cry anymore and then promised myself I would never cry again!