Family

Number Three of Three

sandyjwhite About Life, Autobiographical, Daily Prompt, Family, Photos, Reflection, Relationships, Words Tags: 9 Comments

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Being the youngest of three children
had its perks and pitfalls.

I never had to be the first to do anything—
to walk, to talk, to ride a bike, to start
school, to succeed, to fail—so on and so forth.

It was comforting and secure to trail behind
two older siblings who knew the ropes,
even when they chose to hang me out to dry,
rather than share their wisdom.

It was nice to bask in the glow of their
accomplishments, although on occasion
I had to live down the reputation they had
already established, particularly in school.

My sister was a discriminating learner.
If she liked the teacher and/or the subject,
she put her best foot forward.

With his quirky sense of humor and smarts,
my brother cruised through academia
without breaking a serious sweat.

I was the classic overachiever who piled on
the courses and was determined to get an “A”
even if I disliked the subject and/or the teacher.
In other words…’Miss Goody Two Shoes’.

More than once I walked into a classroom
where the teacher’s first words were, “Are you
so and so’s sibling?”

Or worse yet, “Not another (insert last name)
in my class!”

While the move out-of-state after my
sophomore year in high school seemed
an injustice at the time, in reality it was
a blessing in disguise.

The symbiotic sibling interplay was disrupted.
For the first time, I had a perfectly clean slate.

Inspired by Daily Prompt – Symbiosis

Searching For That Pot Of Gold

sandyjwhite About Life, Autobiographical, Daily Prompt, Family, Insight, Photos, Reflection, The 1960's Tags: 8 Comments
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Left to Right: Loyal, Kenly, Grandmother and Otis in 1931

Hopes and dreams
In the absence
Of a healthy dose of
Reality
Is a sure recipe for
Disaster

My uncle Loyal was the youngest of three boys in a family of five children.

I remember him to be an affable individual, with a broad smile, a true gift of gab and a kind heart.

Loyal was also a big dreamer, who generated a plethora of get rich quick schemes over the course of his lifetime.

Always in pursuit of the trophy fish, he threw back the daily keepers which could have provided ongoing sustenance and stability for his family.

He did in fact land a real whopper, once.  Loyal created one of the very first scratch card games.  It was a big hit in Canada.  The dollars came rolling in.

My uncle moved his family from a modest apartment to a rambling estate along the Missouri River, complete with a swimming pool, pond and guest house.  Life was good.

A failure to read the fine print, however, cost him in the end.  After a few short years, the royalties slowed to a trickle and then stopped, altogether.

His family’s economic and emotional roller coaster hit bottom, again.

For his son Butch, it was the last straw.  Enrolled in private school and living the high life one minute….with the phone disconnected and bill collectors at the door, the next.  Humiliating for anyone to endure, it was especially devastating to a teenager.

Butch had a nasty “accident” while cleaning his gun.  Although never officially ruled a suicide, I believe that to be the case.  He was just fifteen.

I was sixteen when Butch died.  His death was transformational.  Overnight, I went from invincible teen to mere mortal, intimately staring death in the face for the first time.

I gained a new appreciation of how fortunate I was our family was never on that roller coaster ride with Butch.

I learned being a “Steady Eddie” daily breadwinner isn’t always glamorous, but it is one of the most admirable of traits to possess.

Sometimes being successful comes with unexpected costs.

Inspired by Daily Prompt – Successful

Ticket To Ride

sandyjwhite Family, Nature, Photography, Photos, Poetry, Weekly Photo Challenge Tags: 25 Comments

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‘All aboard’ he cried
Departure time’s nigh

Come rain or shine
We’ve mountains to climb

Chugging along
Sure and strong

Plenty of steam
To traverse that stream

Clickity-clack
Down the track

Past river and pine
All in good time

No hurry to arrive
Savor being alive

Like days of old
In the rush for gold

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My husband and I rode the
Durango & Silverton train
as part of our 30th anniversary
celebration. It was a wonderful
journey we had long anticipated.

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Inspired by Weekly Photo Challenge: Anticipation

Call Me Old-Fashioned (WPC)

sandyjwhite Autobiographical, Family, Nostalgia, Photos, The 1950's, Weekly Photo Challenge 15 Comments

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Nothing gets me in the holiday spirit
like pulling out my Christmas card list,
gathering up the stamps and address labels,
spreading my cards and envelopes on the table
and sitting down to send personal greetings
to friends and relatives.

When I was growing up in the 1950’s, we
always had a family Christmas card each
year. The cards traveled far and wide to
hundreds of people. There was a large
basket with holiday themed decorations
to hold the stacks of cards we received.

While I send far fewer cards today, I still
look forward to hearing back from people
and reading their notes scribbled inside.

 

WPC:  It’s Not This Time of Year Without….

I Owe You One, Bro

sandyjwhite Autobiographical, Family, Nostalgia, The 1960's 5 Comments

I was never much of
a science or math buff.
I made a point of meeting,
rather than exceeding,
credit hour requirements.

With algebra and plane
geometry under my belt,
I steered clear of calculus
and trigonometry.

In the science realm, physics,
chemistry and astronomy
incorporated way too much
math to suit me, so I selected
biology, instead.

The study of plants and
animals seemed pretty benign
at first glance.

But when it came time to wield
our trusty scalpels to
dissect insects, worms and
a frog, I was aghast.

They expected me to TOUCH
those nasty things?

Worse yet, we had to collect
our own insects to dissect.

Fortunately, my brother
was enamored with
all things biological at the time.
He eagerly volunteered
to assist in securing the
required specimens.

Off we headed to the playground
at Tillman Elementary School,
which was surrounded by fields
of tall grasses and weeds.

In no time flat, we had
jars full of insects
floating belly up in alcohol.
We headed home with
our stash.

By the time we reached
the front door, my brother’s
face was red and itchy.
In short order, his eyes
were swollen shut.

We learned later
the field was full of goosefoot
and he had suffered
an acute allergic reaction
to the pollen.

My brother paid the price
for my class project.

I felt ALMOST as bad for him
as the dead bugs.

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Happy 70th Birthday!