Through the Eyes of Children

Double Life of a Young Girl Part VII

This series is being written as mood and memories allow. Therefore, it is somewhat out of sync; out of chronological and proper sequence. Hopefully, in the end; it will level out to become a log of biographical consequence.

During those most important developmental years which lie between ‘preteen’ and eighteen; my family experienced a number of tumultuous and twisted turns. Our days became awkward and strange; taking on a surreal essence or, more accurately; a counter, backwards, down sliding, upwardly climbing, insane and idiotic identity all their own.

For several years after the beginning of the upheaval; I was impervious to the oddity of my home life. At least, I seemed to be at the time. Partying and laughing, socializing with the kids from wholesome home environments; I wasn’t yet fully aware of the vast differences between my experience upon returning home at the end of the school day as compared to theirs. In time, this would become painfully evident.

As the obvious disparity emerged, things began to change rather rapidly.

Teenage life is supposed to be fun and full of frivolity. Silliness is supposed to be the norm; carefree and light hearted; while a tendency towards deep seated seriousness and self contemplation the curse of the invisible.

I was invisible.

Having gone through a number of step fathers, a succession of “new” homes in different towns, and a constantly changing school system; I learned to be invisible. I wished to be unnoticed. I wanted to be an unknown entity.

I succeeded.

Before all Hell broke loose in my loosely knit nuclear family, childhood and early adolescence were all that a young girl would hope for. “Junior High” was a dream! Being a member of the 7th and 8th grade “elite,” I enjoyed all the benefits of being in such a group. We had parties, attended dances on Fridays with the cute boys in our group, went to all the sports games and tried out for “Pom Pom Girl,” among other sought after positions of popularity and prestige. That was then, as I said; “before all hell broke loose.”

But, I'm a bit ahead of myself....let me explain:

After several failed marriages to my father; the last of which began and ended during my 8th year, my mother was unaccustomed to and unwilling to live life as a single mother of two children. In no time, she seemed to forget her life with my father and began an active search for a new companion, and not just someone to spend time with. Oh no...

My mother decided that she needed to be married again and so, on came a parade of eligible and very kind gentlemen who wooed her and us, her children. In very creative attempts to ‘win the prize‘, we were swept up in a desperate wave of activities! Off to the beach, days in San Francisco at Fisherman’s Wharf, rides in the country, drives in the mountains, skiing at Lake Bereyessa, and picnics “up Valley,” in the beautiful county of Napa, California. Oh, there were many who were taken with my mother. Nice, polite and comfortable men who would go to extreme measures to secure her favors.

But, as fate would have it; my mother liked the ‘bad boys’ better than the kindly men who cued up for her attentions. No, she was drawn to the great looking, suave, sultry and sexy males who were adept at plying their ‘wares’ and engendering themselves to my mom. Polished to perfection, these silver tongued devils spoke with poetic verse while giving gifts of shining baubles designed to persuade my beautiful mother to accept the hand which held the gleaming gift

Ironically, the first in succession of step fathers was a jeweler; one who dealt in very expensive and desired items..

In no time at all; she was married to “Bob,” and we were shuttled off to another part of California; a flat, ugly, hot and boring non descript and colorless place.


Bob was a product of the military; and took his experience to heart. During his tenure in training; one of the demands upon recruits was to make a nice, tight and tidy bed. The proof that this was, indeed, successfully achieved was determined by the commanding officer who would walk the aisles of twin sized beds which were presented to him with the top sheet, blanket and spread turned back to the foot of the bed, exposing a taut, creaseless and wrinkle free contour bottom sheet.

The Officer would pull out a nickel and flip it up in the air above the exposed bed with the intention that it land directly in the middle of the bed. The desired effect was that the nickel bounce up several feet from the tightly affixed sheet. If the nickel didn’t bounce properly, the recruit was to remake the bed until the nickel performed as expected.

As simple as this seems; it is anything but.

Of course, my brother and I were expected to duplicate this “achievement” on our own beds every morning. Since mother worked during the early am hours to mid day; we were left in the hands of our step father. He was a disciplinarian! If he had to admit it; he’d tell anyone listening that he didn’t like “those brats” and that they “were a pain in the ass.”

So, we spent our mornings in fear and trepidation of our step father knowing, all the while, that we couldn’t tell mother because he told us not to…”or else!!”

Obeying his command; we’d each stand by our individual beds in our separate rooms, awaiting the inspection. Soon, Bob would appear at the door, staring at our attempts with a critical eye as he approached. I wondered, at these precarious moments; how my brother had fared; how and if he had to redo his sheet over and over. Since we were expected not to speak or complain; there was no verbal indication of his success or failure.


One afternoon, when mother returned from work, she found brother and I still sitting at the breakfast table. My brother was defiant and argumentative; I was apologetic and ashamed.

You see, we hadn’t eaten all of our dinner the night before. After much harsh words and arguing, my mother ’won out (at least, this is what she thought at the time) and “allowed” us to go to bed early because we didn’t finish our vegetables. This was, actually, the better choice for us as, it was either sit at the table and finish the hated peas and carrots or, go to bed early. Mother would have had neither as an option; she would have fed our dog the rejected food and allowed us to carry on as usual. But, step father wasn’t going to stand for that…it was either - or so; we choose an early bedtime. Mother thought that was the end of it but, the minute our mother left for her am job; step father pulled out the hated foods and placed them before us…forcing us to sit at the table until we consumed the cold, bitter and ugly remains of last night’s dinner.

Children see life in a huge way and all the positives and negatives are amplified a hundred fold. I couldn’t imagine touching those hated peas and carrots. Cold, limp and impossible to eat in my child’s eyes; I absolutely could not even consider touching them much less eat them. My brother, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about the taste or consistency of the decaying left overs. No, his agenda was completely different than mine. While I was disgusted at the very sight of the things, he was obstinate and confrontational. He was NOT going to do as Bob said! This was his form of protest at things much bigger and beyond the mere incident of uneaten food. He was registering his objection to the very nature of our life in Ugly, USA, and how and why we were there.

Sadly; for this and other reasons, my brother confronted Bob many times and always ended up on the loosing end. And, sadder still, we could not tell my mother the horrors we were subjected to during her daily absence. No. This was to be kept quiet and under wraps…a secret about which only Brother and I could discuss out of my mother’s hearing.

Oh, how we wished we could tell her everything but, fear had a strong hold over us and kept the secret alive.

When we boarded the train for our monthly visit to my father, we pretended to tell our mother and father the whole sordid story of our hours during the day with Bob..the evil step father. We never actually did, though. Children see life in a huge way and all the positives and negatives are amplified a hundred fold.


Our stay in the nondescript, hot and dusty mid section of California didn’t last long. A mere nine months and we were packing up for our return to my hometown and my father. Though I had no real idea why this was happening, I was ecstatically happy that it was. Both my brother and I couldn’t wait to leave the match stick house which had been our ‘home’ for those months. Plain, boring, boxy and without any beautiful embellishments or graceful gingerbread like those of our first home. This one had small ten foot by ten foot bedrooms which had closets that were covered with by folding doors. Ick! Our old doors were heavy with paneling and lovely glass knobs. These new ones had big, bulky shiny gold knobs that weren’t real gold. Even as a young girl, I could tell the knobs were fake.

There was no elegant fireplace with ornate mantle, no built in cabinets with wavy old glass doors that opened to deep deep recesses which my mother used to love. The kitchen was cold and uninviting with a tiny window above the sink. It was nothing like the sunny circular dining alcove in our old kitchen which had mid wall to ceiling windows all around that let in the most comfortable slanting rays of sunshine in the morning and during evening sunset. Our counters in my original home were covered in intricately detailed tiles of off white which were accented with black squares and rectangles creating a pattern all along the length of it. Our deep double cast iron sink shone brightly and proudly. Mother never let anyone use scratchy cleanser on it or the Wedgewood stove with six burners…no, she insisted that these surfaces be cleaned using strength and expert hand motion which removed any and all bits of dirt and grime. The stainless steel sink in this ticky tacky house could not compete with the historical beauty of our ‘real’ home. Nor could the unimaginative floor plan compare. A square “design” with small rooms squeezed into it. Our Tudor home had three stories, a lovely staircase and large rooms and high ceilings, crown molding and elaborate wood door casings and caps, built in cabinets with drawers and special places to display special things.

The sorry little house in our temporary move rested on a small square of grassless area which had no greenery, no flowering shrubs or trees; in effect; barren and dull. Our native home was situated on a huge swath of acreage which had a seasonal creek, huge oak and bay and evergreen trees as well as an orchard which produced the most luscious apples, pears, peaches and crunchy walnuts. Large grassy areas were perfect for us to play on while we ran to and fro with our dogs and cats. It was a good childhood while it lasted.

Well, back to our exit from Ugly, America. Going home! Can’t wait! While our little displaced family of three stayed at my Grandmother’s house for a few months; mother searched for a new home. It wasn’t long before she found the perfect place for young kids in a neighborly environment with friendly people and lots of space to play.

In no time, we were living in a small but nice tract home on a tree lined street and well kept yards. Lots of kids and new friends to meet. Activity and life! This was perfect.

Too perfect.

Soon, mother was feeling the need for permanent male companionship, again. During that time; it was not usual for a woman to marry and remarry so often as my mother did. But, just as unusual (and unacceptable in good society ) was a woman remaining single for long. So, according to the scheme of things, she was off in search of a new ‘step father.’

Along came Mike. Mike with black hair and blue eyes, a strong square chin and smiling face. Mike stood six feet four inches and was everything my mother found attractive in a man. He was Irish…100%….with a brogue which melted hearts. My mother’s heart oozed into a hot, liquid pool of syrupy yearning which pulled Mike into her web with as much urgency as she felt.

Hot and heavy, theirs was a whirlwind courtship which resulted in, of course, marriage. For a while, this pairing seemed like the perfect match. Maybe this one would work!


One thing she used to laugh about while preparing holiday meals was the fact that, typical of Irish cuisine; Mike liked his mashed white potatoes with salt, only. No butter! No sour cream! No chives or ground pepper…just salt. For some reason, this confused her; she could not imagine eating soft, bland potatoes without more toppings. Still, we all learned to appreciate this difference in tastes; it wasn’t a big deal.

But, there was more to come.


Mike was a courteous man. He never abused or mistreated my brother or me and was always a gentleman to my mother. Problem was; he liked his alcohol…a lot! What began as a fun, celebratory relationship between the two of them turned into a source of discord. Every night, before dinner drinks and after dinner drinks became an every day occurrence. Not only that; this little pattern became a midday habit, as well. Though she said she didn’t want it to continue; somehow; she fell right into the imbibing with regularity.

But, this could not go on for too very long and, sure enough! It didn’t! Within the space of a little over a year, Mom and Mike were off to the divorce courts. Again, brother and I kept our distance and went into our respective rooms shortly after finishing the evening meal. This was a matter of necessity as well as self preservation. No, our physical well being was never threatened however, the arguments which developed between mother and Mike became more and more hostile while, concurrently, emotionally wrenching with tears, sobbing and many a heartfelt “I’m sorry.” from both parties.

And so, at a young age; I saw the exit of father 3...but, it certainly was not the end of available, willing and ready suitors to come; one of whom would soon be identified as ‘father # FOUR!”

More to come……..

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Comments 36 comments

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Sunnie Day 5 years ago

Dear Kathy,

I look at you and am just so thankful you are who you are..something exra was given to you even though you endured the list of hard situations..I too had a military minded father and spent many days sitting at the table deep in the night eating something I hated..rooms were inspected and never left the bed unmade..I made it and in the back of my mind..I have been in rebellion ever since.."I will not make my bed to day and no one is going to make me!" but it took me only 30 years to be I do it with a

Thank you..I look foward to reading more,



Lucky Cats profile image

Lucky Cats 5 years ago from The beautiful Napa Valley, California Author

Sunnie, thank you so much. I considered not publishing this one but, what the heck...and, now...I've learned something about you....that you experienced some of the same things...the military disciplinarian aka father. Thank you for your ALWAYS kind and supportive are a treasure and a very very good person. Kathy

MartieCoetser profile image

MartieCoetser 5 years ago from South Africa

Lucky Cats, this is captivating. You surely obtained at a young age a lot of knowledge of human nature.

This is a terrific description: "Polished to perfection, these silver tongued devils spoke with poetic verse...."

Voted up and intriguing.

FloraBreenRobison profile image

FloraBreenRobison 5 years ago

I'm sorry to hear you were abused. On a lighter note, I can assure you that the teenage you have hated my condo. It's full of all the design you couldn't stand, right down to the folding closet door and cupboard with the gold coloured knobs. But it's all I can afford.

Angie Jardine profile image

Angie Jardine 5 years ago from Cornwall, land of the eternally youthful mind ...

My dear ... you may have had many unfair and unhappy times as a child but look how wonderfully kind and full of love you have turned out.

You are a golden person, Kathy ...

gail641 profile image

gail641 5 years ago from Mason City

I had a step-father that I didn't like at all. He was real mean and abusive. My sisters and brothers didn't like him, either. I was real glad when he finally left for good. Our mother divorced him. The judge who granted the divorce knew of him and he didn't like him at all. Our mother never remarried again after that. She had boyfriends and lived with someone as a companion. The one she was living with went and married another woman, so that was the end of Mom's relationship with him. He was a nice fellow-he was a plumber who owned his own shop.

always exploring profile image

always exploring 5 years ago from Southern Illinois

Kathy, Remember when i first met you and we discussed our lives as children being very much alike? Our Mother's were similar in many ways. Reading this installment reinforces that fact. Thank goodness we survived the turmoil. I enjoy your writing so much. Thank you for sharing my friend. Cheers..

Just History profile image

Just History 5 years ago from England

I cannot imagine anyone changing partners that quickly with the children involved but then folks never cease to amaze me

Lucky Cats profile image

Lucky Cats 5 years ago from The beautiful Napa Valley, California Author

Martie, Flora, Angie, Gail, ruby and History:

Martie, you are sure right...our young eyes were opened wide at a very impressionable time which carried on to this day. I think this is why I so appreciate your insight and intuition, awareness and takes lots of "exposure" to appreciate these very important traits/abilities. You know, all of us who write and share our experience, be it through biographical pieces, poetry, prose/free verse, fiction, non fiction, opinion or more...are sharing our understanding and experiences of this world; this life...Whether we share this directly or through metaphor...there is something about writers that is a cut above....deep, interesting and interested. Thank you for such a wonderful comment, Martie...always appreciated.

Flora, my know, when I wrote my feelings about the differences in homes/houses...I feared I might insult or put off someone; somewhere. I didn't mean to do it as it might is more that i'm trying to say that certain 'feelings' of security and love existed in that first home...and were 'housed' in that home...and, to this day, that style, detail and age of house always resonates with me...inspiring feelings of warmth and security....the newer, less embellished and plainer houses of more current years stirred feelings of lack of warmth, insecurity and, it is more the architecture of representation rather than the actual structures, themselves.

Peggy W profile image

Peggy W 5 years ago from Houston, Texas

Hi Kathy,

Perhaps that is why you are such an animal lover today. They offer true and unconditional love which seemingly was lacking from all of those step-fathers. Sorry to hear of your experiences growing up that caused you pain. You obviously survived and it taught you things about what is most important in life. Up and useful votes...and beautiful just for the person you have become. That vote is for you!

Lucky Cats profile image

Lucky Cats 5 years ago from The beautiful Napa Valley, California Author

Angie, what a sweetie you are...such a kind comment...thank you!

Gail..I am very sorry to hear that yours was a questionable childhood, too...with the confusion and complication such an environment can cause. But, just as I've come beyond it and are alive and well in this world. Yea! Thank you for sharing your story with me which is quite a compliment.

Ruby, again, we're in the same boat...and, it's staying afloat!! I'm not surprised by your comment; I think that going through such things adds character and strength and insight...maybe a few negatives, too but, I won't dwell on them...we'll take the best and discard the rest!!! Love ya. Kathy

gail641 profile image

gail641 5 years ago from Mason City

Taking the best and discarding the rest sounds like a great idea! I'm glad that the bad things with the step-father are in the past. I always thought my mother put her children 2nd, after the step-father. He was just awful!!

Lucky Cats profile image

Lucky Cats 5 years ago from The beautiful Napa Valley, California Author

Peggy....yes, sometimes I wonder if the lack of real unconditional love during younger years may have contributed to a desire for that in later years...probably so..and thank goodness for it..I have never known the beautiful serene sweetness like that of my feline companions..just wonderful. Thank you, my dear.

Gail...good one...'taking the best and discarding the rest.." Perfect. I'm with you and, I also felt that my mother placed us in 2nd or 3rd place when it came to what was important to her..sadly, there is no test for parenthood...just for obtaining a drivers' license. LOL..Thank you so much.

History...I agree with you. I've never understood the NEED to couple no matter what..whether the coupling is a positive thing or the two involved actually work well looking for the security of being part of a pair rather than being in life independently. Thank you for visiting and commenting. Kathy

FloraBreenRobison profile image

FloraBreenRobison 5 years ago

You didn't insult me. I own my own condo -it's not a rental. How many people in my generation can say that?

Lucky Cats profile image

Lucky Cats 5 years ago from The beautiful Napa Valley, California Author

Flora...GOOD for you! I agree, too....not that many people in your age range own their own homes, sadly. I started relatively early as well, buying my first home and then turning real estate investment into a career of sorts...I think one of the few sure things in life is home ownership..if one is not planning to sell in the current economic state and, if one does not buy above their ability to handle mortgage payments....if this is well thought through...owning property is one of the smartest things to do. Good for you!!!

epigramman profile image

epigramman 5 years ago

......Flora owns her own condo - that's it - I'm moving in soon as she lets me ..... lol ....well my dear Kathy you have always been one of my favorite writers and people here at the Hub since we've met (along with a particular Miss Amy from St.L, the lovely Ruby, the gorgeous Martie, the radiant Sunnie Day and Flora most definitely too) ...... I am a lucky man to have met you - I always enjoy your thoughts and your ideas and your writing and of course we are kindred spirits too because of our love for our pets ......I will post this most beautiful remembrance of days gone by to my FACEBOOK page with a direct link back here and will send you my warmest wishes and good energy from a very cold lake erie time 6:20 pm where Little Miss Tiffy is inside with me - glad to get rid of the kid for awhile and the kid himself Mister Gabriel is outside dancing in the moonlight here over the lake with his trusty leash.

epigramman profile image

epigramman 5 years ago

...and I meant to write - 'this most beautiful but yet bittersweet remembrance of days gone by' .....because we all tend to remember the good times and the not so good times too ......

gail641 profile image

gail641 5 years ago from Mason City

Some step-fathers are just rude, mean, selfish, unkind, and crude. The one that I knew was all that, he was abusive, as well. Luckily that's over with now. But, you never forget.

Lucky Cats profile image

Lucky Cats 5 years ago from The beautiful Napa Valley, California Author

Hello Colin and Gail...always, Colin; thank you so much for your effervescent comment(s). Makes my day...along with so many other wonderful writers here on HP's. are so right. On all points!

A.A. Zavala profile image

A.A. Zavala 5 years ago from Texas

Kathy, such a tumultuous childhood. Your aware of my upbringing. When I was 10 years old, I saw a box of Grapenut cereal in the commissary. The front of the box had a scoop of Grapenuts with a white pile of crystals mixed in. I asked my mom to buy it so that I could try it.

The crystal substance was sugar, but I was little. The only crystal substance I found in the house was salt. So I made a big bowel of Grapenuts, and poured a tablespoon of salt on it. I took a bite, and recoiled. I made a mistake. I was trying to pour the bowel of ceral down the sink and was caught by my father, who you're aware was in the military.

He sat me down, and forced me to eat that bowel of cereal. I threw up, was forced to clean it up, then forced to continue eating the cereal. I got so sick. But he made sure he made his point.

You grew up during a time when children were seen and not heard, and I can imagine the emotional turmoil you must have felt. I know your brother suffered much because of it.

A touching story, though tragic, adds another facet to our view of you. Thank you for sharing.

Sharyn's Slant profile image

Sharyn's Slant 5 years ago from Northeast Ohio USA

Dear Kathy,

I always love your intriguing writing, how you describe specific moments in time is amazing and captivating. Thank you for sharing this part of your life. Whatever happened back then has made you the awesome, caring person you are today. I look forward to reading more!


Lucky Cats profile image

Lucky Cats 5 years ago from The beautiful Napa Valley, California Author

Hi my dear Augustine. Honestly, when I wrote the part about military discipline and taut sheets, I thought of you and your childhood experiences...truly! Amazing, the way some adults behave towards children; I cannot fathom the cruelty. I am always so pleased to see your comments, Augustine; so thoughtful and with an obvious understanding of what you've read. Very very appreciated! Soon! hopefully; very soon when I'm back in Napa; I'll be back online permanently and have time..finally... to catch up on the writing of all my favorites (and that includes YOU, of course) and then some... Thank you, Augustine.

My dear Sharon...I'm so pleased that you enjoy my writing style (?) (what style???) and that you've found time to visit...I know that your time is taken, right now, with much personal as well as other needs is very much a compliment that you have visited and left such a nice comment. As I said to Augustine...HOPEFULLY I'll be home, finally, and have time to catch up, too. Kathy

Lucky Cats profile image

Lucky Cats 5 years ago from The beautiful Napa Valley, California Author

Chapter on Leonard coming soon! It's a real "nail bitter."

gail641 profile image

gail641 5 years ago from Mason City

I would love to see the Chapter on Leonard.

Lucky Cats profile image

Lucky Cats 5 years ago from The beautiful Napa Valley, California Author

Hi Gail...can't wait to have enough time to write is so hectic right now...thank you for your interest...there WILL be a "Leonard" chapter soon.

gail641 profile image

gail641 5 years ago from Mason City

Dear Kathy,Your welcome. I have my neice's cat Sasha, and my other cat doesn't like it too well. Sasha is dark tiger strpped. She's a really nice cat. She likes to lick you in the face. She's real sweet. She was being attacked by my neice's dogs. Leonard sounds very interesting. Gail.

Lucky Cats profile image

Lucky Cats 5 years ago from The beautiful Napa Valley, California Author

Gail...thank goodness for your kindness to Sasha....give the kitties time; they'll soon learn to love one another and be happy for the companionship. You are an angel for helping Sasha and I always enjoy seeing your comments. thank you!!!!

gail641 profile image

gail641 5 years ago from Mason City

Sasha ia a real friendly cat and I'm real glad to have her. She is a real good eater. My other cat is a good eater, too. It will take them some time, I hope that they will learn to love one another. I didn't like my cat to be alone when I went to work. Hopefully, it will work out. Thank you, too!!!!!

Lucky Cats profile image

Lucky Cats 4 years ago from The beautiful Napa Valley, California Author

Hi again, Gail...I'm so sorry for such a late reply...I wish you the best and, by now, I bet your kitties are doing very well...I sure hope so.

Amy Becherer profile image

Amy Becherer 4 years ago from St. Louis, MO

Brilliant writing, Kathy, that illustrates your protective nature towards those innocents without a voice. As I read your emotionally heartbreaking upbringing, I couldn't help but envision a tiny, beautiful, reddish-golden kitten, cowering in the corner, afraid to come forward, staying in the background, needing yet afraid. You couldn't have chosen a more perfect name, Lucky Cats. You are the angel that gives every homeless, neglected, animal without options, the love they inherently deserve. Your corner of the world is a beautiful place.

Lucky Cats profile image

Lucky Cats 4 years ago from The beautiful Napa Valley, California Author

Hi Amy! Thank you, my friend. I'm sure this part of my life contributed greatly to wanting to save others from the same well as a disconnect from my own. Your comments are stories in themselves, Amy. Always completely on the same page...thank you so much for these wonderful words. And I am so appreciative of Augustine for writing the thoughtful hub which brought you and others here. thank you, my dear

gail641 profile image

gail641 4 years ago from Mason City

That's ok for the late reply. Every once in awhile the cats get into a little tiff, but I always stop them. Sasha is doing ok so far. She is so sweet, she likes to lick me in the face. She tries to nip me, too as she has sharp teeth, but she's ok.

Amy Becherer profile image

Amy Becherer 4 years ago from St. Louis, MO

Sometimes, Kathy, I worry that I get off topic onto a tangent. I hope you know that your writing always strikes a chord in me and I relay something you made me think about.

I wanted to leave a comment to Augustine about his tribute to you, but he opted out with "buttons" only. I wanted to say that he has excellent taste in friends, because I, too, consider you one of my all-time favorites, as a writer, and especially as a person.

Lucky Cats profile image

Lucky Cats 4 years ago from The beautiful Napa Valley, California Author

Amy, no explanations necessary .. I completely understand what you said...and the comparison is very valid. I believe that those of us who have experienced less than the ideal childhood grow to become more sensitive, perhaps, more empathetic and more aware of our effects on others. Because of this, we walk this world a little more softly..and speak for those (all of those ) who are weaker and who cannot stand up for themselves. Some, I realize, turn cold, hard, mean and aggressive as a result of negative impressions/treatment by parents and other parental figures...but we...all whom I have come to cherish here on HP..we have used our past sadnesses to listen a little more closely, hear another as they speak and care a bit a direct result of a painful past. It's all good! my friend. I get it. This comment goes out to all of you who have walked in shoes such as these. Much love to all Kathy

Pamela Kinnaird W profile image

Pamela Kinnaird W 4 years ago from Maui and Arizona

I was quite glued to this story from beginning to end. Really good writing about your very interesting young life. Now I must go back and see what the earlier parts of this story are about. Voting up and awesome.

Lucky Cats profile image

Lucky Cats 4 years ago from The beautiful Napa Valley, California Author

Hi Pamela....yes, I'm trying to put it all together and, possibly, share in a more cohesive form....these memories are awakened at different moments inspired by various, they come in a haphazard pattern. I'm experiencing 'writers' block' right now...hopefully, I will be inspired, continue. Thank you so much for the visit and I am so glad to be "in touch" w/you after all this time...your hubs always touch me deeply; your heart is big and your tenacity in the face of so much sadness/abandonment there on the islands, is amazing.

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