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Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Rambl'n on bout nuttin...

Sometimes I get it in my head to just ramble on with what ever I might be think'n at the time. I do that quite often when I'm sit'n out there on "da porch" sip'n a cup an' think'n. Some of it don't make no sense at all, while some my think'n makes all the sense in the world.....to me anyhows it does.

I figger that one the best subjects to talk about is myself. My adventures in this life, my shortfalls, my downfalls, childhood memories, expectations and humorous happen'ns. Not often do I touch on my personal life in respect of "love an' hate" situations. That's for me to hold inside until I decide to share those experiences with others.

Well, I'm gonna share a part of my life this morn'n I would like to forget. Remember WWII? That started right after I was born. Some have accused me of start'n that dreadful war, but it ain't so. My dad an' mom divorced shortly after I was born....dad got custody. To this day I don't know why or how. In 1954, I lived with mom for a very short while. Mom died in 1958, with me know'n her for only one year of my life. Nice lady, but her husband was a bastard.....mean....beat us boys (half brother) with a rubber hose. He climbed right up that tree like a monkey an' yank me slap out that tree. Beat me a good'un too.

Dad joined the Army early 1942 and placed me in a foster care farm with 5 other foster care boys (farm slave labor). I growed up on that farm, from a scream'n little banshee baby boy, to the ripe old age of 8 or 9. I didn't really think much bout family an' stuff like that. I were too busy do'n boy stuff. All I knowed was that I lived on a farm with a bunch of other boys and no mama or daddy. Lots of kids growed up like that in the 40's. I was no exception.

In 1949, my daddy pull up in the driveway and pick me up to take me home. What the hell, this is 1949, war was over in 1945. Where he been for the last 4 freak'n years? Here I am almost a growed man an' he come to take me home? He had remarried and didn't have time for no stink'n kid. This has bothered me most my adult life and I still question the missing 4 years of a child's best years. But that was just the beginning. There was still more of the same to come.

Did I ever tell ya bout the time.....

9 comments:

  1. It's just horrible what people get away with doing to kids - always has been and probably always will.

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    1. I don't think it's near as bad now as it was during war times. Lot's of broken marriages and "dads" killed in action. The 40's were rough years coming out of the Great Depression into a world war.

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  2. Physical hurt may heal but hurt emotion may never heal.

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    1. I suppose that's why I revert back to my past so much, remembering the good times to cover up the bad.

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  3. My folks stayed together from the time they got married until Dad passed. He was a Navy man and was a little rough around the edges when he first came back, but they managed to stick it out.

    I saw my Dad for the first time when we went to California to meet his ship! I was 18 months old, so I don't remember much about that.

    I have plenty of good memories from my childhood, as do my sisters. I'm thankful I had some good folks to teach us and share our good times!

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  4. Gosh Billy Bob, I am sorry to hear that.

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