Life in Hawaii

When we had completed the school year, my mom had been accepted to go to school at BYU of Hawaii. 

 This meant we had to move there. No complaints there!

  We arrived about June of 1976, and I vaguely remembered much about that experience, I mean the how we got from the airport to the Apartment we moved into. We lived in Married Housing near Campus, and we really loved it there.  I do recall Chimra's dad brought her over in August before school started.

 The beautiful Hawaiian weather and the people were so kind, we easily made it our home there.

My Sixth Birthday

Because I was born in February, birthdays in Utah were pretty cold. Well, the year I had my sixth birthday was awesome for me. 
 I was in love with Neil Diamond. I mean, he was my hero. 
 I knew every word to every song, and I could sing them all. I had everyone of his Albums, I had a Mickey Mouse record player, and my mom had a cool stereo and we would jam to his records. My mom loved him too. 
  Neil Diamond came to concert to the Special Events Center in Slat Lake City, Utah! David, as you recall from previous memories of him, gave my mom four free tickets to the concert. One for her and mom was awesome! Instead of taking friends with her, she took us three girls! 
 It was my first concert! How I loved it. I remember singing every song. I knew every word, My sisters and I were in heaven! The special perks to having a Step- Dad that was a D.J. was awesome! We could go to any concerts, many restaurants, movies, plays, etc, for free. 
I loved that I was there. 
As we were there, I saw my birth father. Strange that I would know it was him, but it was. I remember he walking by us, and I said that is my dad. 
 My mom said "Oh, honey, your dad is in Alaska, he is not your dad" I insisted a man with a beard and was really tall was my dad. I had only seen him one time, and sure, I was 2 when I had seen him, but the tall man walking towards us was my dad. I remember my mom watching him as he walked by and running up to him as we was a few years away. She said something to him and he came back and said hi to us. I recall that the next day he came to see me and my sister, and brought me a white winter coat and boots and some clothes. He bought D some clothes, as well as an out fit for Chimra. He told me he would come back and visit  me every week, but he did not. 
 I recall he telling me that he wanted me to come visit him in Alaska in the Summer times, but that never happened either. 
 Anyway, I saw my dad at a Neil Diamond Concert and I loved that Concert. 

Christmas Time

I remember a lot of Christmases. 

 Another Christmas I remember, was living in Salt Lake City, I was 5 years old and in Kindergarten. 

 My mom sat down with us and explained that although there is a Santa Claus, and although he is real, we were not able to have any presents because my mom did not have any money. 

 My mom said that we were very good girls and she loved us so much but that Santa will not be able to come to our house that year. She said we will Celebrate the real meaning of Christmas and it was about Jesus being born and about being good to others, but not about the gift we had. 

 I was not allowed to play out side that year. The reason was not because my mom was mean, but because I had no coat. I would get about three sweaters, and my mom would crank up the heat in the car before driving me and my sisters and a couple of friends to school. She would drive me so that I would not have to stand in the cold and freeze waiting for the bus. My older sister had a jacket, but she was a lot taller than me and that year, because we had been living in California, my older sister had no winter hand me downs. So, I was always inside, near a heater to keep warm. My mom spoke with the Teacher, giving me permission to stay inside, and I would stay in the classroom reading books while the other kids played on the play ground. I would then go on the bus and head straight home, as to not freeze. 

 Well, after this speech my mom gave us about Christmas, we headed to church. 

  It was a Sunday, and a few days before Christmas. 

After the Sacrament Meeting, my sweet Primary Teacher approached me with a really pretty Christmas gift which read "Do not Open until Christmas". I was so excited to put it under the Christmas Tree. 

 That year, instead of Primary in the middle of the week as usual, we had a Christmas party. My mom and uncle taught my sisters a song that was very popular from 1950's. The Lenon Sisters sang it, and my mom taught it to us. We practiced and practiced the song.  My mom made a little Toy Shop for the song, I remember it being so pretty and for the Church Christmas party, we, my sisters and I sang a song called, "Shake Me I Rattle" maybe it is another title, but I remember it being that. 

  Anyway, It was Christmas eve. We went home after the Christmas Festivities, and I am not sure if that very night we went to see the lights and come home to drink hot cocoa or if we did that a few days before that, but One thing I am sure of. 

When we got home, Santa had come, left us tons of toys, and filled our stockings, Mom was wrong about something, if one thing, Santa still came even though she had no money. 

 I know my mom could not have afforded it, and I remember everything I got. 

 I remeber what Chimra got, and I remember D got. 

 D got new clothes, Chimra got a barbie dream boat, and some barbies, I got a beautiful doll house, a couple of barbies, and a baby doll. We all got flannel pj's. 

I can only imagine how grateful my mom was. 

Looking back, when I was much older and a heck of a lot more wiser, my mom grew more and more to be my hero. 

She was always honest, always good, happy, kind, and always gave us the best possible life she could with what little she had. 

 And, she always believed in Santa Claus. Always

I was 2 1/2 years here. We moved around a lot and one time had a storage, where the owners lost tons of our stuff. Pictures included.

The gift my Primary teacher gave me? 
She knitted mittens, a hat, and scarf for me to keep me warm for the winter. Not everyone in the class got such beautiful gifts, but I did. I brought her a plate of cookies made by mom and decorate by me the day after Christmas. I did indeed wear my mittens and set she gave me. The set was made of a soft wool, pink and hot pink in color and I loved them.

My mom wasn't really my mom

My big sister, D has always been the voice of reason, my guide in life. She knew everything and always took care of me. As I mentioned before, she saved me the the kidnap of the Candy-man."Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" was not too far off. 
 So how would I not believe her on everything else? We would sit up and talk when we were supposed to go to bed, my mom would make her point very clear, by shaking the silver ware drawer when she would hear us talking. I would run to my bed really fast and pretend I was asleep as my mom would open our door and peer in to see if we were sleeping. Then, Danae would creep up to my bed, and we would talk some more. This always bothered Chimra, because D and I were closer, and so Chimra would get jealous we were not allowing her to hear our secrets. 
 The biggest secret D would tell me was I was not their blood sisters. She started this discussion right before I turned 6, and this discussion was held for about two years. 
 I had no reason to discredit her, as of course she knew all, I mean, she had dates, times facts and even facts to back up her facts. 
 So, This is the story of how ı came here according to my sister D:
I was born in the hospital by a loving mom and dad with blond hair and blue eyes, and I had a rich family. 
My mom now was really a man dressed up like a woman and trying to get money from the family from which I was born. 
 I was valuable to her (mom) because I was the daughter of a wealthy millionaire.
 "But mom is so pretty, I mean she doesn't look like a man"
I would say to my "sister". "But she is." Then, what about my sister?
 Just kidnapped, held against her will, but she never complained because she was scared. 
When I was 13, I talked to my sister about this. 
 She laughed so hard she was crying and she said that she had a bad dream, and she would stare at my mom,(when she was awake) ask her who her mom and dad really was. This hurt my mom's feelings, because when I would talk to my mom about who I really was, my mom would sigh and say, "you have been talking to D, again, haven't you?"

10 months old. I do not recall that dog, but when my mom saw this picture, she recalls him

School Days, School Days, Dear Old Golden Rule Days

  

  

Five years old, Kindergarten picture. Please read below for an explanation as to why this picture is so funny

Mom's friends, Atz and Nedra Kiltcher moved to Payson, Utah, meaning I saw Shane on occasion. The Kiltcher's would come visit us and sing and I would play with their kids, Shane and Jeul. (She now is a singer and spells it Jewel) Shane, Jewel and I would roller skate and I taught her how to roller skate. She was about 5 years younger than me. I remember being in Kindergarten and her and Shane stayed with us for a few days. I carried her around, and played with her, She was the most beautiful baby and so sweet. We had much fun together. She remembers me because one day she saw a roller skater Avon bunny pinned to my shirt. Behind the face and tummy of that bunny was lip gloss. She admired it and I gave it to her. She had me come back stage to one of her concerts a couple years ago and she told me how much fun she had with me as a child. Wow. 
 When I was Five Years Old I started Kindergarten. I was bored. I had to help other kids learn to read. 
 I will explain why. In my class, we had to learn together as a class, not individually. Well, I was reading really well, and I wanted to learn more but in order to do that, the kids that were struggling with reading needed to be caught up to my level. 
 How could I help them learn to read better? 
Positive Reinforcements. (Of course) That meant a lot of my free time at home was spent baking cookies for my fellow class mates. My mom hated this, because that meant I would bake the cookies, and they would kind of turn out like baked salted  dough so she would have to remake them. Well, I was watching a "Mister Rodgers Neighborhood" with  my cereal, as I did every morning before I went to school. (I thought he was talking to me and so I told my mom Mr Rodgers has to talk to me before I go to school.) Well, he taught us how to make some salt dough! He did it without using the stove top and that was quite a capitol idea for me! I went to school that day in anticipation for going home to make my class mates some wonderful salt dough (home made play dough) I was excited!!!
 I was more than excited... 
 I got home, took out the flour. Dang it, some spilled... Oh, well, I will clean it up (and I cleaned up some of it) But when I mixed it, it was a little runny, but the bag of flour my  mom had in the cupboard was HUGE so I used that one (in retrospect, OK, It was ten pound bag.) I used all of the flour in the house, all the salt and I made the dough. I thought I would make my mom's day by making her a birds nest before she came home. 
Some how, I think there was still some of the mess, She found out I had used up all the flour in the house.. (How did she know it was me?) My mom never yelled, my mom never swore. But my mom was really upset with me. 
 As a matter of fact, although I have always had a love for cooking my mom literally grounded me from cooking until I was 12. WHAT??? I know!!! Torture huh?
  I had another obstacle. 
Picture day. Now, it is every mother's dream to have School Pictures of their kids filling the home's hallways of every year starting from Kindergarten through High School, each child lining the hallways of pictures, so when family members, friends come to visit and need to use the restroom, they take the long walk down the hall of fame.
 On such an occasion, parents mostly mothers, dress their daughters in the best clothes, make the hair just perfect, and the boys are usually in ties and sport jackets. Sadly, that is how they leave home. But, one can not expect kids to not play on the play ground, every child can not get their picture taken right at 9 am to assure that their hair and clothes stay perfect. 
  Usually the Kindergarteners go first, youngest to oldest. I decided to cut my hair a few days before picture day. I wanted an extra special picture, so I made piggy tails, myself, before I went to school. For a prettier surprise to my mom, I smuggled make up in my back pack before we headed out the door. My mom saw my lipstick I put on my lips and said, "Promise  me you will take out the piggy tails and take off that lipstick before you get your picture? Here is a comb to brush your hair". Of course I promised her to take out my piggy tails, but it did not mean I really was going to do it , I mean, she was not really going to know, right? And besides, she has no clue about my make up surprise. How I dreamed of the best pictures. She will hang my picture where everyone can see it, not in the hallway, but living room status. 
 Right before pictures were taken I asked my teacher if I could to to the bathroom, and how I slipped my makeup in the bathroom with out her noticing is still a debatable mystery today. 
 But, I did.  I put on my mom's mascara and eyeliner. Oooh the burn my eyes felt when I accidentally poked my eye with the liquid eye liner brush. That started sort of a snow ball effect on my picture. When I got to the photographer, I was a little surprised when he looked at me and asked the lady taking the money to "come now". When she came, she told me to wait a minute and went to her purse and I asked her to please not ruin my make up. 
 Instead, she got a Kleenex, and licked it, wiped my eyes and bada-boom, ruined my beautiful make up.In one swipe my dreams of my beautiful picture shattered into a million pieces full of spit and Kleenex. sigh... At least they didn't touch my hair.  My hair!?! Oooh heck, I promised my mom  I would take out my piggy tails before the picture. After the picture was snapped, I asked the Photographer if I would do it again, because I promised my mom I would not have the piggy tails in. "Believe me, she will not notice your piggy tails, well, that will not be the only thing she notices" He said as he laughed and said my picture was "just fine, really memorable" Well... I think I will believe him! So I took out my piggy tails and thought... "Mom will never notice Awesome!"
 I thought I still had a chance of getting Living room shelf status. When I got home my mom said "How did your picture turn out? did you take out your piggy tails?" (believe me, your mom will not notice... echoing in my ears as I blurted out,) "Yep, I looked really cute" and my mom said, "We'll see" (What did that mean? The photographer said my mom will not notice) I skipped outside with my bike and rode it around the complex, and played in the sandbox, I remember it was a really sunny day
  In those days, retakes were done before you got the pictures back. So, a week after retakes, my pictures came, and how cute I looked, but my eyes did not look like I expected them too. I wanted more of a Hollywood look, and shoot, my hair was not as blond as I normally am, oh yeah, I cut my hair a couple of days before. Will my mom see how cute I look?
 When I got home Danae pulled out her pictures. She looked so pretty. She had long brownish-golden hair, natural curls, green and hazel eyes, my big sister was just gorgeous.
 Then my mom saw mine. Remember when I said that my mom never yelled? I mean Never EVER? 
 Ok... She did! Yes, My mom yelled. It was more of shrill. At first I thought she was happy and excited of my beauty, but after a few seconds, I ran to my closet. Her shrill was not happiness. It was terror and horror. My mom was so angry. I could not figure it out. What the heck was she yelling how bad my pictures looked. To this day, ı have never heard my mom ever sound with such a horror scream that went as far south as the Grand Canyon and I am SURE that her scream caused an Avalanche in the Most Northern part of Alaska. 
She shrilled, "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTT??????"
What was ALL she said. So, understandably, you can see why at first I thought she was so happy... My mom usually has a very beautiful soft spoken not high pitched sound. But, her What was very high pitched and... Long. Then she said "Retakes were LAST WEEK!! I TOLD YOU to take out the piggy tails and WHY Did you get into my make UP!?!?!?!" I said "I put it back" and then I instinctively ran to my closet. (Good choice... And I am alive today because my mom chose to stand there yelling instead of following me to my room)
  My mom wanted to throw them away but when David saw them, He gave her money for the package and said (while laughing),"One Day you will look at this picture and laugh." He bought them and He hung it in his living room. Every time he saw it he laughed so hard. My mom saw it 30 years later, and said,"David is right! It is so funny now, boy it was not then!" MY mom was always wonderful like that. She could look at things differently and laugh. 
We laughed a lot growing up. MY mom taught me to see humor in things. Even in Not Living Room Worthy Pictures.

July 24th was not always about Pioneers

When I was about 4, we were living in Utah, and in a basement apartment of Atz and Nedra Kiltcher, and we were happy. I loved 4th of July and 24th of July. The Latter is popular among Mormon Culture. (L.D.S. Culture) This is the day Celebrating the Pioneers coming into Salt Lake City Utah, and Brigham young Declaring "This is the Place". 
 Well, I loved this day. We got to dress up like Pioneers and play games and do fun things with our families. In Utah we went to Parades and watched fireworks.
   I thought, Before the Pioneers, what was in Utah? and I asked my mom. She said that it was desert, and Native Americans. Well, my mom's mother's side of the family (Grandma Lorene and Grandma Lambert) side: They were Native American. I asked my mom if I could dress up like an American Indian instead of a Pioneer to honor the American Indians. My mom was thrilled. Well, we did not have much of a costume for me so I sported the Head- dress in the picture above. I loved that head-dress. I would wear it all the time. My mom bought it for me in the Grand Canyon a year before that picture above was taken, and I was thrilled to wear it. 
 Little did my mom know was underneath my red shirt I was wearing I had given myself war paint. I took my mom's red lipstick and black eye liner (she used the liquid stuff) and I drew me some really awesome designs, put my shirt on and wore denim cut offs and flip flops to this Primary Party we had in the park. We went to Pioneer Park and were there for about an hour. My mom thought she would do a couple of things before coming back to get me. 
 As soon as she left, I took off my flip flops, and red shirt and ran around with my head dress and shorts. My mom upon coming back was so surprised. I recall her trying not to laugh, and trying to tell me not to take off my shirt in public again. 
 That was one of the first July 24th Celebrations I remember growing up.

How I got loads of Candy

My mom's best friends were Atz and Nedra Kiltcher. Mom know Nedra as a child from Alaska and Atz was a year younger than my mom in school, I think. Atz was always funny, my mom said. Nedra sang like an angel. She also played the piano beautifully. Atz and Nedra wanted to help my mom and they lived in Sugarhouse, Utah in an old bungalow 1924 style. They had a basement apartment with a small kitchen, a bathroom and two bedrooms, a living room... It was a nice place and I remember loving it there. Atz and Nedra had one child named Shane, and he was a fun friend. He was C's age, but Shane and I got along and played often. D started school. I was about 3-4 and C was about 2-3. We were on a hill, and about three houses down and around the corner, and two blocks was the School that D went to. Everyday, I would walk to the corner when it was time for D to get out of school. I would wait for about two minutes as I would see D come walking up the street. I was so excited for her to tell me everything that she was learning. She would read with me after school and teach me everything she learned. Sometimes, she liked to be alone and so my mom made her a room for herself. She would make me do the secret knock if I wanted to come in. Sometimes she would tell me the secret knock was wrong, so that I could not come in. She some reason that that was so funny. 
  One day while I was waiting for D, a car pulled up in front of me, and a man opened the door. He was in a long blue Cadillac, and wearing a blue suit. The man opened his brief case. Inside was a candy shop. The brief case was loaded with candy. I have never to this day I have never seen so much candy outside a candy shop and out of the Halloween Season. That man, whose face I will never forget, was trying with candy to get in his car, and my 4 year old mind was racing with how I could get that candy, give it to my sisters, eat some, I was so excited. As I started toward the car, the corner house German Shepard went wild, it started ferociously barking and it was the first time I had ever seen this reaction from the dog. It scared me. The an was saying, "Come on, I will give you some candy, just come get some candy" the dog barking, I stared getting scared, but, I attributed it to the dog sounding like he wanted to jump his fence. Just then, my sister grabbed me from behind and said to the man, "We have candy, we don't want any" ... WHAT? We don't want candy? I was shocked, I was stunned I was upset that  my sister dragged me (literally dragged me) away from the man with the candy suit case. the man drove away and D said was we were walking up the hill, "What are you doing? Never NEVER take candy from any man, any body, they will kill you". I was crying. I just wanted candy. we walked up the hill and in the home with me crying. Mom asked what happened, and Danae told mom about how she was walking to meet me when someone was trying to get me into a car, and the man had a bunch of candy. "Well," mom said, "You did not get in the car, so you will get a reward. Let's go buy all the candy you wanted from that man's brief case.!" and all was right with the Universe because mom fixed it. We walked to the candy shop with mom and she bought everything I wanted. 
 

Back in California

We did visit the Grand Canyon once or Twice growing up.

Our time was up in Mexico. We said very sad good-byes and went back to California. One time we went on a trip to the Grand Canyon and while we were there we visited our relatives in Arizona. We had some in Mesa. we were there a while. I had an uncle that was a really great guy. He was my Grandma's brother. His wife N scared the pants off me though. She was a perfectionist and would get angry if anyone did not do what she wanted. I look at her now and she is half my size. How was I possibly ever afraid of her? Well, I was.
  It was when We had come back from Mexico and I was about three that my Grandpa and uncles and my two aunts came to California to visit us. We went to Tijuana and Disneyland. we went all over San Diego with my uncles and aunts. It was so much fun. My mom bought me a doll which I still have. My mom taught me how to hold the doll so that her dress would not get ruined. she taught me to hold the doll with her legs. I still remember to this day. I really loved dolls and collected them all of  my life. Because of us moving so much, sadly, some of the dolls I had I had lost. 
  My mom had a friend named Charlie Callahan. Charlie was a great guy. He drove around in a V.W. Bus and had bright red hair. He was a good friend of my mom's. He would take us places. One time I had to go to the hospital and get my kidneys tested and Charlie took my mom and I in the morning. We went, for some reason to the V.A. Hospital. I think because my birth father was in the Air Force and so, the V.A. Hospital paid for all our medical tests. Well, They had to poke me with a lot of needles and I thought it was torture, and so they had to restrain me. In the midst of testing me, I was in a room hooked up to a machine, when a huge Gorilla came in my room. In the wisdom of one of the Doctors, they thought it would be nice for sick children to be visited with a horrifying creature, such as a Gorilla, so that when you left the Hospital, you appreciated leaving. Honestly, I don2t know which is more terrifying, Gorilla or Clown.They are both absolutely the most horrific thing to ever visit me in the Hospital. The Gorilla came in, as I am screaming, drew a happy face on my tummy, tied a balloon to my bed, and walked back to my door, turned around, tilted his head to the side, waved, and went out the door. To this day that is the most insane creepiest thing that happened to me at that point in my life. 
Another visit to the same Hospital or maybe the same visit, I was sitting in the waiting section with my mom. 
 There were many people coming and going. We were sitting on chairs along a wall, they were big and soft chairs. A man came with a wheel chair, rolling by me and he had a mustache, long hair and I saw, he had no legs. In hte mind of a three year old, I did not know he would understand me if I spoke to him, but I knew that my mom had all the answers, and so I said,"Momma, What happened to his legs?" "Well,"  was all my mom could say when she was interrupted by this guy. He turned around with his wheel chair and we were just about eye level, he started yelling at me. He said "Have you ever heard of NAM? HAVE YOU???" And with that started swearing and cussing and yelling some more. He yelled about how no one appreciated what the troops did for me, and fighting for freedom, and he would not stop yelling. I was scared, and could not understand why he was yelling at me. My mom told him to stop yelling at me. My mom said something about how I was only three years years old and to calm down, tell me what happened with out yelling and swearing. My mom ended up telling him to get lost and if he had something intelligent to say, use real words and not swear words.
Laundry time was done every week, If I remember right, on Sundays. But I am sure my mom would now say, Never on Sundays. My om was not active the the church that she was raised in the time that we lived in California. I mean, at times she was but not all the time. Us girls would pile up the clothes in the Radio Flyer, mom would make sandwiches and we would hit the laundromat.People would drive by and whistle at my mom and she would tell us,"Only Jerks whistle at women, never answer to cat calls, girls." 
  D and I never did. 

And Now Mexico?

Last Summer I went back to Utah to visit my mom and dad and family. I stayed with my mom for six weeks and of those six weeks about 2 1/2 weeks were of actual time spent with my mom and dad. All the other time I went to other places. I visited my friends and family. 
 I have a memory of my aunt that I can impersonate to very well. I will try to articulate it with words so as your mind can hear and see exactly what I can do. Interestingly, I thought if I did this impersonation my mom would not be happy. However, she thought it was so funny, she had me do it a couple of times. 
  My aunt, as I might have mentioned before is an alcoholic. I do not condone alcoholism in any way but when you are raised with the life I had, and mind you, my mom was not the cause of my pain, she was my protector, you can either become bitter, forget, or use your pain with humor to survive. 

 My aunt would drink and roll her own cigarettes. Of course looking back, I am sure she smoked more than tobacco, but we called them cigarettes. When she got drunk, she would walk around the house in her lingerie, she mainly had silk slips and she had a beautifully colored silk robe that hung open. It was white with flowers on it. We would, according to my aunt, make too much noise and she would get really ticked off about our noise. 
  One day, I was crying and wanting my dad in my room. My bedroom door was closed. My aunt had a glass of wine and a cigarette in her hand, and opened my bed room door. She was wearing a white silk slip with one of her white silk robes with flowers on it. I thought she was coming in to comfort me, but she opened the door, and stood there for a couple of seconds. she was not falling to the floor but she was tipping and swaying from side to side as she slurred, "Stop cryin' you brat. Your dad left you and he's no coming back" she closed the door rather loud and went back to her room for another cigarette and of course more wine. 
 My aunt went on spurts. Sometimes she was drunk a lot and other times she was fine, not drinking and really fun to be around.
 My mom somehow found a way for us three girls to live with her in Mexico. 
 I remember some of that time. 
 I remember we lived with a woman named Josefina. She was really sweet. I remember what her home looked like and I remember the Geckos on the ceiling at night. They were harmless but I was scared of them.
 I hated rice. Rice is a huge staple food in Mexico or it seemed to me it was. I hated it with a passion. My mom always tried to get me to eat rice with Cinnamon. I just starved when she did that. I would have rather been hungry for days than eat it and so I would give it to my sisters who would eat it for me. 
 I also was taller than most girls my age but I for the life of me was never fast enough for those buses. The Bus Drivers in Mexico were crazy. They would stop for about 5 seconds and whomever was off or on the bus so be it. They did not care if you were half way off the bus, they would take off. One fateful day we were on our way to Church when we were trying to get off the bus fast. My mom and sisters got off but There were a couple of people men of course, that pushed their way by me, and so when I tried to get off, the bus doors were shut on literally half of me. I was half way on and half way off the bus, and the bus took off. Women on the bus were screaming, "Stop! Stop! Stop!" while the men were hollering, "The baby didn't get off the bus!"
 My mom was chasing the bus and I was reaching for my mom yelling ,"Momma help me". The bus had one leg, one arm and half of my face stuck in the door of the bus. Needless to say, I have a fear of bus door now and dash off a bus scared to death it will close the doors of doom on me and whisk me away to a bus stop I have no idea where I would be. 
  I will add for you readers worried, The bus stopped after 4-5 blocks, let me off and my mom brought me to safety. Mazatlan had beautiful beaches, men had carts and they would sell us coconuts with cold coconut milk, mangoes, mango juice, fresh pineapples, we loved living in Mexico. I do not know which way I remember; the ride down to Mexico or the ride home, but I do know for certain we used a train and we rode at night and had a bunk in our section of the train. I think that was riding back, but I know we used a train to get to Mazatlan and back to California. 
Little kids would say my name easier than my sisters. Leena is just easier to pronounce than my sisters names. We would visit a man and his wife that lived across the street from us. They had an atrium full of birds. We loved going over there and seeing the brightly colored birds. they all were Macaws. There were red, green, blue and they were fantastic. They had smaller collection of parakeets, but wow those macaws.
  At night the neighborhood would be full of people sitting outside with their guitars, dancing and singing. They would bring food and eat, they would laugh and joke with one another. I can still remember the smells of the homemade corn tortillas and tamales. Fanta Naranja, and the sounds of the music playing.The streets were sometimes lit with brightly colored lights and we would know the neighborhood was having a celebration of something or another. We loved it. The people were kind and happy and tried to communicate with us, we really loved Mexico. 

    

California Here We Come

My mom had a sister in California and she had offered us her home and my mom and her shared this place together. It was me, my sisters, my mom, my aunt and her son, Jay.
 Jay was about 11 months younger than me. We lived in a Town-House in San Diego. I was just a little over two, and we lived in San Diego for a couple of years. I was almost three years old when I met my birth father for the first time. I was so wow-ed by him. I thought that he was the greatest guy in the whole world. 
  My sister didn't think so. My older sister thought that he was kind of a jerk and would tell me sometimes. I was always surprised that she thought that way, I mean... It was her dad too! I would say I wish dad would come and she would say, "He is never coming, why do you always talk about dad, he doesn't love us because if he did he would see us all the time, get over it" In retrospect, I wish I had her wits. I wish I would have been able to forget my birth father as easily as she had. I think that it would have helped me heal from years of pain that my birth father cause by believing all his lies. Now, mind you, He would be well intended. He would say, I am coming back tomorrow, or I am going to have you and your sister stay with me in the Summer, we can do many things in Alaska in the Summer, or he would say, If you behave I will buy you more clothes when I see you. Another one was "Do you like Jewelry? Well, I will give you all the Jewelry you want if you mind your mom and do what she says" I remember that one because I love jewelry and heck, yeah I wanted all the jewelry ... But it never came. 
  More highlights to my memories living in California.
 We would go to the Balboa Park and we would  play in the fountain. That is, until the Park Ranger would come by and tell us that we are not allowed to play in it. We would also go to the beaches on the bus and we would eat at Jack in the Box. I liked Jack in the Box. We moved out of my aunts place because she got married to a Mexican and we had an out door Wedding for her. It was really pretty wedding.  Danae and I were dressed like twins. We were Rice Girls. We passed rice to all the guests to throw at the Bride and Groom after they married. (***Sad Side Note***: Later you will find the reason my aunt Marriage dissolved, but it did)
 We moved to a place that for some reason to this day I hate little dogs. There is a specific reason for this. First of all I never thought little dogs were the least bit cute. Ever. 

This was taken about the time we were living in California. My birth father would have seen me about this age for the first time. Hard to imagine something so cute he would tell my mom I am not his, Huh? Yep, He did that.

 There is a reason I hate poodles, too.  There was a poodle that lived behind us. To the left of the Gully. We lived in the top of the Gully and there was a door going to the back streets and the side walk to the swinging bridge. I liked going to the swinging bride. I did not like walking near the house with the gray poodle. It would always bark so viciously and bare teeth. Right next to that home was the home with a German Shepard, who was so docile, I thought it was the sweetest dog in the world. I  once ran away from home with my red radio flyer wagon, a blanket and some food and was going to the swinging bride when I thought that the poodle was going to be nice to me, because it did not bark as ı walked by so I stuck my head in the iron bars to get a closer look at the dog when it started jumping at me and barking and scratching my face. A lady with a huge Cherry Red really cool looking Chevy pulled up on the side of the house and jumped out. I had seen the truck before and I am sure she was the owner of the house. She had a deeper voice, was wearing a tank top and had these really weird looking tattoos in her arms, but she was so nice because she helped free me from the poodle, and   after that I would see her and wave to her. My mom would have a lady come to talk to me, and the lady would bring me puzzles to play with, she would ask me questions and she would give me books to read. I have no idea her reasoning for being there. But I liked reading the books and the puzzles.

... Now the Fun Begins...

We moved to Salt Lake City because the commute to Salt Lake City in the mornings was a little difficult for David, my step dad. 
  I recall things from time to time and here are the things I remember the most. Waking up very early in the morning and rocking on the couch, even though the couch was not a rocking couch. I would have David, my step dad turn the TV on to Bugs Bunny and he would get ready in the mornings. He smoked and drank coffee. 
 I remember going to Lagoon a lot because we got Free passes through the radio station. David always brought home some sweets. We lived in Apartments that were building a pool and I remember a girl that would always ride her bike and try to barrel her way through my older sister and I. 
  I remember two dreams I had. One was of the above girl in some way. The dream was this
 The sky was perfect blue with not a cloud in the sky. A hot day but I was wearing a pink dress and my older sister a blue dress and we were happily skipping and playing. We both had balloons when the mean girl with the ten speed came barreling on her bike towards us and I was trying to get out of the way but my little legs were not fast enough and I got under the bike and she was yelling "Get out of the way". My balloon was popped and my older sister had somehow let go of hers in the horrible chaos. I can not say for certain but I am sure that I have had that horrible dream more than once. 
 The other dream was of a house full of snakes. And mice, and clowns. Can there be anymore terrifying than dreaming of a Stephen King's "It" clown before he wrote it, and be almost dead spot on? Talking about that man knowing how to creep me out by Stalking my night terrors. Am I the only one that had ever felt that way? 
Somewhere I know Stephen King will smile a sheepish grin and think, "Well done" In knowing that he had that sort of effect on at least me.
Other thing I remember is going to 4th of July Parade in Provo because family was in Provo and not Salt Lake City. 
 I one day was walking with my little sister, Chimra. There was construction going on of a pool being made. I don't know if this is a memory or if my mom told me so I remember but I do recall a large mud pit. Well, Chimra was about to fall in it was was holding onto the grass and mud on the side of the pit. I ran to my mom and stuttered out Chimra was falling in the mud pool. My mom ran and got her before she fell in. Her life was spared. I recall my mom talking about it and telling me how fast I ran. I remember when we were near there. My mom gave us money to buy a soda pop from the machine, and we had to walk by the pit to get to the soda  pops. I was told that I loved butter. Looking at my pictures you would not guessed. I was not a fat child. But my mom recalls once talking on the stairs to a couple of friends as I walked by them with a cube of butter placed neatly on a piece of bread, and politely asking the women to "pardon me" as I walked by them. 
 Once, at 20 months, I saw David spill something. Now, David is one of those type people if I spilled something, he would yell and yell at me, tell me how careless I am and belittle me to clean it up and not make things fall. This behavior was not directed at just me. It was anyone that was around him.
I hated it. It scared me. One morning when I was rocking on the couch and he was getting ready for work, he spilled coffee on the table in front of him. I remember him getting worked up about it and I started laughing. He said what are you laughing at. I said That is funny. He said, It is not funny, it is a mess. I laughed and said, "That's a funny mess", and laughed more.
 I remember laughing thinking... HE DOES make messes. I thought where is someone there to yell at him? 


I remember that he would yell at my mom and throw things at her. 

Me,deliciously adorable.

 The last I remember living in that apartment was David yelling at my mom and we later left on a big bus. My mom said we were going to live in California.   

And Then There Came Three

(I will enter a new picture here, sadly I do not have one at the moment)

Well, by the time I was about 9 months old, we had moved out of Sally's home, moved out of the little apartment that we moved in in Orem (we were in the basement apartment home of my mom's husband's older sister's home) When my mom had found she was pregnant with her third child. 
 What my mom did not realize then, and sometimes now, is the third child she would have was not only the spawn of the Devils Daughter but also a Sociopath. (That is under exaggeration)
  What would her pseudo name be? Let me think... Chimera
 That took about ten seconds :)
 Chimera was a big brown eyed baby and my mom was smitten with her from the day she was born. 
My mom and her dad gave her everything. She cried a lot. I remember my mom painting her crib when she was born or just before. I could not figure out why she wanted it white when it was yellow. I recall walking by it one time when my mom was putting lambs on it... You know those 1970's decorative decals that you have have to use water and sort of decoupage it, I remember my mom doing that to this Crib. At the time I did not know what they were. They were cute lambs but I remember they were lambs because I was a lamb for Halloween and thinking... I am the animal on Chimera's crib. 
   I was about 13 months when my mom said she started potty training me because I was ready. I was saying full sentences by the time I was 14 months old and I was  about 16 months old when I ran to the toilet and sat down, but had waited to do pee, so I missed the toilet and peed all over the floor right near the toilet. I sat down anyway thinking maybe I had time to get some more pee in the toilet. Mom came in. "Leena? What happened?" without skipping a breath, I said, "Oh, mom! A huge Monster came in here and peed all over the floor!" The story was said with so much conviction, my mom could have never made up the story herself. "A Huge monster,really?" "Oh, yes, momma. He was a big monster." Wondering how far I would take the story, momma asked me, "It is that the truth, Dee?"
and with that question, the tears and  sincere heart felt admission, "My bottom did it mommy, my bottom!"
 This is a good time to mention that my older sister D, and I were best friends and we were constantly playing, just like big sister and little sister. She was and still is the biggest influence for the best and my best friend, my best everything. I always looked up to her and loved her with all my heart. 
  One day, I do not remember this but my mom does, Danae came in to ask my mom for a match for her "fire things". "Fire things?" asked om with a little bewilderment. "Yes," said Danae in a matter of fact, nonchalantly. "Can I see your fire things?" and with that mom was taken outside with me as a 2and a half year old culprit... or partner in crime. There in the back yard on a slab of concrete was a pile of leaves, dried, sticks, twigs,and various other flammable items. Indeed they were "Fire Things" as D indicated.Mom was excellent as deterring D (at that age) for more productive uses. "Why don't you have a picnic with Dee?" the idea was a hit for me myself and my sister. Of course I had no clue that I was supposed to be given 50% of the food, and I was just excited to be with my big sister having a picnic. Even to this day, I do not care. I love being around my sister. D is still someone I hold in the highest regard. 
 

This is Me... I will start from the Beginning

I was born in February. The day is not that important. 
  What you do need to know is that my birth father was not there when I was born. In fact he was gone, completely out of my life, and I did not know that for years. I also did not know that my birth father had filed for and received a divorce two weeks before I was born.  (You will be told on a need-to- know- basis... hey, I want you to keep coming back to my blog, right?)
I did have an older sister that was born in Alaska. That I knew.
 So, for the first part of my life, it was me, my older sister (I am changing her name and other names to protect my family) Danae, and my mom. 
 Did I mention my mom was 20 when she had me? Hey, now before you go all judgmental on my mom, she is not just an ordinary marry young and that was that kind of woman. First off she loved my birth father but he never could treat her right. And second of all she never said anything bad about it. 
   I was born in Provo, Utah, in the early 1970's. My mom lived in a house with me, my sister and her room mate named Sally, who was a great friend to my mom. 

This is me at about 10 months. Just a gorgeous little baby. I was almost walking there. I was saying baby and some other words by 10 months old. Hey, I was a Genius.

So, according to my baby records, which are in a storage place at my brothers right now, I was 8 pounds and a couple of ounces, 21 inches long at birth. Not bad for a new born. Apparently by the time I was in the above picture, according to my baby book (my mom took really excellent documentation on me, yay) I could speak several words and was scooting by the time I was just days old. My mom would place me on the bed and was scared about rolling on me while she slept, so she would place me away from her. I would scoot close to her. I would snuggle up next to her and she would scoot away from me. This process went on all night. My mom said she was scared rolling on me, but I wanted to be right next to her. I was a mama's girl then. I am now.
 Well, at about the age of 4 months, I was being baby sat as was my sister when my mom was working at a JB's Big Boy on University and about 450 North. The place is not JB's Anymore. It is now a Chinese Grill and rumors are it was closing ... But I have not verified if those said rumors are true. It was full with the Big Boy holding the plate with the red and white checkered pants in the front of the establishment. My mom was a waitress and planning on going to University that following Fall... August. But instead, she married in August, to a man she met at JB's. She was serving Shrimp and he would go in there every day for coffee and he smoked like a chimney which, if you met my mom you would NEVER think she would ever want to be around a guy like that.Well for some reason she fell for him. I don't think she really loved him as more she thought he would be a good provider and that he would take care of her. 
 When I was 10 months old I was really tall for my age and as the story was told, one of my mom's acquaintances asked my mom if she was worried about me. My mom, perplexed asked her, "No, why should I be?" and apparently the lady did not know my mom nor I well because she said, "Leena is not talking and walking like most kids her age?" "Oh, I am not worried about her", "Well, she is not walking or talking like the other kids her age." "Her age? How old do you think she is?" The woman thought I was about 4-5 years old. My mom still laughs thinking of her face when my mom said, with a chuckle,"Leena is 10 months old". The woman, my mom said, laughed really hard too. My mom is not super short but I was really tall. I have seen the baby pictures of my mom holding me, I have a diaper on and my feet are to my mom's knees. 
He was a big time D.J. for a huge radio station in Salt Lake city and he had a morning show with number one ratings. Believe me when I tell you when you have a huge radio station morning show in Anywhere you are treated like a rock star. My mom did not even care about that stuff though. My mom is down to earth and just wanting to find the best life for her and her daughters. 
     
                 

Do I dare?

I have another blog. I have been writing in it for a few months now. It is called Happy People Are Happier.
 It is true. Happy people really are happier. I have called it that because of my dad. It was something he and I said all the time.
I wanted to open this blog though, to start at the beginning. You know, go through my story. Talk about all of me.
I thought if I do that then maybe someone out there will understand me. Maybe not. Maybe I am doing it to think aloud so it will make sense to me. 
 Life, well, my life has always been for me about answering questions. 
 Questions for me like... Really Honestly... Why couldn't I stay 5 years old forever? I mean Big Bird does. 
And you know other things like that.
 I am not a loser per say but you know when you know someone that is really smart, really funny, you don't know much about that person but you think... Wow... She is dynamic... But deep down inside her heart of heart, That person knows more about you than you do about her, and really she is quirky and you don't understand why?
 You know those people? I am one of those... The basket has always fallen out of the bottom for me and I used to not let it bother me.
But, now, It does.
 So, I am going to go back to the Beginning of Me... And figure this all out.
I have 30 years worth of Journals (yes... I am a Journal writer, NOT A JOURNALIST.. hehe) And sadly, They are in Utah, at my brother's and I am here in Turkey. So, I will go on memory for now but I will be slowly getting those and transferring them here. 
  Do I DARE?