Invasion? Jealousy? Envy? or just pure hate?

      As I have stated before, I was brought to the Green household when I was a toddler, 2 years old.  I do remember visiting my Mom in her house throughout my younger years, I remember certain things like her having a wooden cable spool table which was stained with a very dark stain, her burning incense, and I have a really strong memory of her taking a bubble bath and calling me to come into the bathroom while she was in the bath.  I have no idea what she wanted, but this is an odd thing I remember.  I do know I was visiting her long enough for her to pierce my ears with a needle.  I don't remember it being done but my Grandma did tell me all about how she had to add another piece of string every day to make the hole bigger, basically re-piercing my ears over and over.  Now holes are basically a slit in my ear (age does this 😏)

     I think that the idea of me joining the Green household really must have had an impact on my aunt Angie.  She was eight years older than I was so there was a little bit of an age gap, just enough to maybe get the "invasion" feeling.

     I don't remember a whole lot of problems of course before elementary school but as I got older she got more mean.  I did get in trouble it seemed like a lot when growing up.  I don't know exactly what I did wrong when I would get in trouble especially prior to the teenage years but I did get in trouble.  I didn't get spanked on my butt growing up however, I would be slapped across the face quicker than myself actually getting the "B" out of my mouth for the word "But".   I really don't remember doing things to get myself in trouble.  I probably made a face I was not supposed to make at the time, or just didn't get up fast enough when I was a teen.  I do know I had a messy room.  That got me in a lot of trouble.

     As I got older, I would see my Aunt would get everything she wanted from my Grandparents, she had a special bond with my Grandma, she would be given dogs to show, she would go to dog training and the shows with my Grandma, she would do ceramics with my Grandma, do arts and crafts with my Grandma, etc. and when she needed money my Grandpa would give her money whenever she wanted.  When it was time to do chores, I would have to get up, do my chores and "get outside, I don't want to smell you in the house!".  That is usually when I went into the woods to make a fort or go across the street to fish or hang out with the Wymans across the street.  However, my aunt was able to hang out inside the house and bake or whatever she did with my Grandma.  Saying all of these things makes me sound like I was a little jealous, doesn't it?  Of course, I was!

     I was jealous because I was told over and over again "Bridget I will always be honest with you, you are not my daughter, you are my granddaughter"  Now, to my Grandma during that time it sounds very good, to be honest, and not leave anything behind or out of the story?  But it really wasn't good to the child that actually felt she was "not a daughter". And to be reminded that I was Susie's daughter, time and time again.  I looked just like Susie so I guess that is why I was reminded I was Susie's daughter.

     As I said earlier, my Aunt got crueler to me and would belittle me as I got older.  It seemed to me as though she took every chance she could to slap me and send me to my room when my Grandparents were not at home, and took each of those slap moments and tacked on a "you are just like your Mom!" insult.  But as soon as my Grandparents would get home I would be in trouble one more time because  my side of the story really didn't matter.  It was back to my room I go.

     One thing about what my Aunt did get right when she would say "you are just like your Mom!" or when I would hear her say "She is just like Susie", is that I had the temper of my Mom. From what I am told my Mom actually threw one of my Aunts through a screen door and jumped through a kitchen window to chase one of my Aunts down the driveway when they pissed her off.  I would see that temper later in life when some of the "fits" she would have would come to life.   My temper decided to show up when my friend Kristy was over to play, and for some reason, she got mad at me, sent Kristy home, and took me into the bathroom to yell at me and she slapped me across the face....hard.  My Aunt was a big girl compared to me, she probably weighed around 170 lbs at the time and I was small.  To me, she was very big. I got up, looked at her, and slapped her back, and told her that that was the last time she would slap me.  She went down to her knees in the bathroom, put her face in her hands, started balling big crocodile tears and yelling how terrible I was, and again, I was just like Susie!  Of course, as soon as my Grandparents came home, they didn't hear my side of the story.  Only Angie's.  

     That wasn't the last time she caught my temper.  There was a time when my Mom came home, I was around 15 or 16, I was very protective of my Mom and what people said about her, Angie said something to me and the story I was told was I took one of the dining room chairs over my head and went after my Aunt with it.  I believe my Mom was the one who stopped me.  I was actually so angry that time I blacked out during the incident and can't remember any portion of the chair lifting incident.  

     The bathroom incident was the last time Angie laid a hand on me.  However, she was still mean...mean....mean....mean!  For some reason, I felt as though I was completely hated or she was just disgusted by me.   But now that I think about it, maybe she was just jealous because I invaded her space? 

Christmas Time

Christmas eve was always good in the Green (My Grandparent's last name) household. The leading-up feeling to Christmas had me excited every year! Everything from my Grandpa complaining about having to bring the tree in, it being too tall and having to trim it, him complaining because he had to climb into the attic to get the decorations down....a whole lot of mumbling curse words while he was on a ladder to bring everything down. And then of-course being forced to sit on Santa's lap who and which I was so extremely scared of, to watching my Grandma and Aunt Angie baking cookies and make candies made it so exciting!

My Aunt Jean and Uncle Larry would come for Christmas eve and bring my cousins I think almost every year that I could remember. I think when my Aunt Mamie and Uncle Pete lived in Osseneke, MI, she would come on Christmas eve but I can't really remember them being there. I know when they moved to Traverse City they wouldn't come for Christmas, the visits would be very rare. Once-in-awhile my Grandma's siblings would come by on Christmas eve, if they would come out it would be my Uncle Bob and Aunt Darlene. We lived in a double-wide, it wasn't a very big house which made it feel like it was packed during the celebration. My Grandma would make dinner and about five different pies to fill my uncle's stomach until they would almost burst. The food and drinking a lot of beer would have everyone pretty stuffed.

After dinner, my Grandpa would take all of us kids out for a ride to find Rudolph! And of course, we found him. It was a blinking light in the sky everyone could see when there was a clear night because it was actually the airport light that would blink. The route he would take would be a loop so we actually wouldn't see Rudolph until the very end of the ride and after we saw him we would go back home.

Once we were back home we would see footprints from the snow in the living room and the tree would be packed with presents... Santa would have come to the house and not only would it be presented for me and my Aunt Angie but Santa would have stopped and dropped off gifts for my cousins also prior to him stopping at their house in the city when they returned home.

After all of the gifts were opened and the kids were playing with the gifts and just playing whatever they were playing and like clock-work, we would get a phone call from my Mom. This is when the long-distance phone calls would be "collect" calls. When the person calling didn't have enough money, or probably with my Mom's case she was calling from a payphone, the person on the receiving end of the call would have to pay for the phone call. I have no idea how much the collect phone calls were but I do remember what a big stink my Aunts would make when my Mom called and the complaints about how much money she was costing them. "Why does Susie always have to ruin Christmas?" I would hear from them. And then I would get the phone and hear "Hi baby girl!" "I miss you!" "I love you!" usually some other types of niceties in-between those statements which were her norm. I don't ever remember getting the collect call "will you accept the charges" from whatever jail she was in during Christmas. My Aunts (usually Angie) would say "what did she say? What did she want?" I think the only response I would give is a shoulder shrug and then move on to playing again.

Even though the phone call was a nuisance for folks sitting in the living room or maybe an annoyance, I actually liked the phone calls. I was reminded later in my 30s when my aunts would complain about the phone calls. They had no idea how it made a young girl who was missing her Mom feel hearing those comments every year.

I believe there may be only one Christmas she was home. I don't remember myself actually enjoying Christmas time with her.  I only have a photo. And the only reason why I think this is Christmas time is due to the homemade decorations hanging from the ceiling.

                                       1979: My Grandma, My Mom, My Aunt Jeanie (behind my Mom), My Aunt Mamie in the front

She's Here and Then She's Gone-Poof! Like Magic!

One memory I have with softball is the time my Mom came home and of course, she came home with a man. You know, for the life of me I don't know if I have seen this particular man this time or if it was a different guy. But the memory sticks with me but, I am not sure if I am combining two different memories. However, of course, I wanted so desperately was for her to watch me play softball.

I believe I was around 9 or 10, my Grandpa was the coach ("get your butt down!" I can hear him say) I was getting really good at the sport after the timing of hitting the ball just clicked and I was moved up from the bottom of the line-up to the 4th batter.....the clean-up batter! I learned how to field at 3rd base and throw someone out. But I actually loved it when I moved to catcher when we moved up to fastpitch at around 11/12 years old. My cousin would strike someone out and I would taunt the batter or throw someone out when they tried to steal. We were quite the duo!

A few days or so prior to one of my games, when my Mom came home out-of-the-blue, I was so happy....my Mom was going to come and watch me play ball. I believe she was there, came with us to the game, and then she left. From what I remember if my memory serves me right, she didn't come back. Why? Well, she was picked up by the police. I think she went to the gas station (to me it was a pretty long walk) to get a soda or something and never came back. If I remember correctly, I think the police came to the game and let my Grandpa know (quietly) that she was picked up. My Grandpa and Grandma really didn't say anything during the game or after the game. I am assuming they didn't want to ruin my game? The good thing is the police knew my grandparents and I am so happy they didn't bring her back to the fields. Can you imagine how embarrassing that would have been to me? At that age? And in the small town, I lived in? Everyone would know. What she did to get picked up in such a short amount of time? Your guess is as good as mine.  The ironic thing about this is I played softball for FOP (Fraternal Order of Police)

About a week later I think she was bailed out of jail. I don't know who went and picked her up. And really, I don't know where she went after bail was made. But she didn't come back to the house as far as I can remember. She would just leave just as fast as she came in. Poof! Just like that she is gone. About a week or so later she would call from Phoenix or California. "Hi Baby Girl!"

I don't know exactly how much money my Grandparents spent over the years getting her out of jail. I do know they probably spent a pretty penny on her though. I do know, it was money we just didn't have.

Some Things You Don't Forget

 

   

A couple of months ago my husband said to me, "You share a lot of memories of your Grandpa but never really tell me stories of you Grandma."  It made me think to myself for a minute about why I really didn't bring up stories of my Grandma.  It may be because she is still with us and because he passed it makes me remember the good times I had with him.  I am not sure which of the two brings my memories up.  A lot of things remind me of him every day.

      My Grandpa was tall and skinny, he had completely white hair with a white handlebar mustache, both had a tint of yellow due to smoking.  He had sky blue eyes, my brother may have gotten his eyes from him.   At least that is what I like to think.  He had a big nose with a pretty big hook to it and big ears.  He always had darker arms, face, and neck, almost with a red hue.  My grandpa had false teeth on the top and only three of his own teeth left on the bottom.  He said he didn't want to wear his teeth on the bottom because they hurt too much.  I only have seen my Grandpa crack a smile a couple of times while growing up.  He did look mean. He would be cordial to people but never go out of his way to say hello to anyone.  But to me, he was a good man. He was the best man, and only Father I knew.

     What people didn't know was behind the rough exterior he was a very kind man that got a kick out of goofy things and didn't mind having me around. I think my Grandpa kept an eye on me and made sure I was going to turn out "OK" because I looked just like my Mom and to my Grandpa, her daughter was going to make it.  That is what I believe anyway.

     I would tag around outside with my Grandpa when I was done with doing my chores in the house on the weekends and most of the summer if I was not playing in the river, fishing, climbing trees, or playing with the kids across the road or my friend Kristy who lived about a mile away.  I would play out in the by the barn and sometimes during the fall, I would help stack wood.  My Grandpa would have me hold out my arms and he would stack some wood in my arms.  He would remind me of the "right way" of stacking wood.

     My Grandpa was a minor league baseball player in Alpena when they had a  minor league team.  He was left-handed, batted right-handed, and played first base.  He loved baseball, he loved watching baseball even when the Tigers couldn't get a hit. 

     When you take a man that knew baseball inside and out and give him all girls and one granddaughter, he didn't have a boy who played baseball so when he heard my uncle was going to coach a Boys & Girls softball team he signed me up!  I remember waiting in line at the boys and girls club to sign up.  I had never been to the club before.  I remember (and still have) my first glove.  I can't remember how it was bought.  Either he bought it and brought it home to me, or we went together.  I do remember it was too big and he said, it is OK, it will last you.  I remember us being at home, and he had the glove and told me to go get the vaseline. We had to lube up the glove and put the ball in the pocket.  He tied a string around the glove with the ball in the pocket and I had to sleep on top of it under my mattress.  I had to check on the glove, re-lube the glove, and then turn it inside out and sleep on it that way also.  It had to be "nice and soft" 

     I still have that glove and have played with it last season when someone needed a glove.  Still works as well as it did 38/39years ago.