A friends model quality picture totally reminded me of this and I thought it deserved to be a blog post. I’ve been slack but I have a running list of topics I want to post about when I have the time. I needed to take some time off from the blog so that it wouldn’t be totally graphic posts (stick with me, it is unrelated to these topics) about childbirth, nursing, and young children. And frankly, I’m just tired and my offspring may possibly be making me dumber and crazier. I’m pretty sure they have a schedule on who freaks out when. They know exactly how many days I can go without showering before it directly involves their noses and my complete lack of sanity. The trifecta of unhappiness is yet another post I need to write… But I have derailed. I’m going to keep this very shortish and simple. It’s a story about the humor in life and also the amazing people I am blessed to have as parents, by their own CHOICE. My mom & dad separated and divorced when I was young. Both parents went on to remarry wonderful people. We spent the majority of our school years living primarily with my mom and my step-dad, Tom.
My mom passed away when I was 15 and my brother was 10 from breast cancer. She truly battled it three times. The majority of ages 8-15 for me greatly involved stages of her cancer or remission. True story, my first date dropped me off at the hospital to see my mom after. And, my first day of high school she was diagnosed with a reoccurrence.
We knew she was terminally ill. She had days towards the end where she was in and out of coherence but she constantly asked where we wanted to live after she passed. I was too in denial to really believe it would happen so a final decision wasn’t made. After she passed, my brother and I ended up staying with Tom with my real dad’s very gracious blessing. He saw it was better for us not to be uprooted (this is the short version remember).
There was a lot of sadness and heartbreak but there is also a lot of humor in my life. My mom and dad were both incredibly funny people so I really feel like they would appreciate all the humor and who knows, maybe they helped orchestrate some of it.
Anyway, more on all of that in a book because ain’t nobody got time to read a blog post that long.
So fast forward to age 20ish? I was living at home (the one I grew up in from 8 on in NC). I took a break from college and was working full time and taking classes part time at the community college to save money. I later went back full time to a small private (read: $$$$$) college so I’m not sure where my brain was at on that financial move but they had the major I wanted. That’s kind of a funny story too, but one for another day.
So by this time Tom had re-married. (When I was 17 actually) And I’m not even kidding when I say it was to his first wife, Joan. They (re-)married in March of my senior year of high school. It wasn’t a quick decision, Joan moved to the area and got to know my brother and I before (she wasn’t crazy, we could have been total teenage psychopaths). Tom very thoughtfully talked to us about him dating again and our thoughts and feelings. While I was a bratty teenager that knew everything I at least had the sense to know that my mom would have wanted Tom to be happy. And I really do believe she had a hand in sending Joan to us.
So I’m living with my brother, step-dad, and step-step-mom in the house I grew up in. I’m 20ish and things aren’t going according to my perfect life plan. Everyone got along, I just wasn’t headed to Med School like I thought I would be. I was working full time while my friends were all away at college.
Tom and Joan are both saints, for endless reasons. The most obvious and basic in regard to this story is that they raised (reared, whatev) two teenagers that were not their own biologically. By choice. TEENAGERS. Seriously. Joan didn’t come in and remove all the family pictures with my mom in them (they are still there now despite that my brother and I have said it’s ok with us for them to come down or even if they wanted to move).
So, on the fridge there were the normal family pictures of cousins and friends. Notes, announcements, etc… There was this small red magnetic heart frame there as well. The frame still had the photo that came in it. One day I jokingly asked Joan & Tom if they planned to ever put a legit photo in it. I wish you could see their faces with the combination of confusion and sarcasm as the following conversation took place.
Joan- “But that’s a picture of you?!?”
Me- “Nope.”
Tom- “That’s you when you were little.”
Me- “Nope” (cue the laughter)
Joan- “Are you sure?!?”
Me- “I’m pretty sure I know myself.” (removing the CARDBOARD photo to show them).
Laughter.
For 5 years some cute (she did look like me, ha) little picture frame model held a spot on the fridge because they really thought it was me. They didn’t know me at that age in the photo. And in fairness, she looked like me. That’s funny stuff. And it shows their hearts at the same time, not taking down all the memories even though it had to be very awkward for them both.
Always look for the funny, or you will go crazy. Or just embrace the crazy.
PS- My kids get their chunk cheeks honestly.