Growing up in my family my father was an alcoholic who never worked at least when I was old enough to remember. My mothers name is Grace and it truly fits her because she is very gentle and full of grace. She worked hard everyday of her life raising us three children all by herself. I can remember the times she would allow my sister and I to go to work with her and as a child was so exciting. Back then she was employed by First National Bank in Oklahoma which was located down town Oklahoma City. Underneath downtown Oklahoma City they have restaurants and a variety of stores to go shopping if you like. There was a bridge made out of glass like one big long giant bridge that you cross getting you from one side of the street to the other and at the same time you see out and the people could see in. To occupy our time on the days we went to work with her she would sat us in this almost empty office where my sister and I would pretend we were bank tellers and such just like our mother.
My mother grew up as a true small town girl in the town of Stillwell, Oklahoma her mothers name was Delia Dobbs she was petite and short with blue eyes, one of the sweetest women I remember. She was half German and half Italian. My grandpa well he was full blood Cherokee Indian and was fluent in his language. He was so fluent that when he would preach gods word he spoke his language Cherokee. See my mother the youngest of the kids she was the baby girl and very far in age compared to her three brothers and three sisters. They didn’t have a lot of money at all growing up in Stillwell, but they were rich with a christian up bringing. Grace is a highly intelligent woman she is so smart during her high school days she was the Salutatorian of her class.
She liked to play basketball and would tell us stories of how she could dribble the ball right between the legs of the tall girls during their games. She never let anything discourage her and seemed to always be successful in most everything she has done. She married my father and moved away leaving her small town long behind barely ever returning not even to visit her family all but every once in a blue moon. She would try her best to stay in touch only most usually by writing letters to her brothers and sisters who are quite spread through many different states. The times that we did go get to visit my moms side of the family were some of the greatest trips and memories that we have.
I remember this one time we traveled to Vian, Oklahoma to visit one of my grandmothers they called Vinie. She lived out in the middle of nowhere and her house quite small and her floors were made of dirt. The walls of brick but, not your ordinary brick they were dirt bricks to us it was the neatest thing we had ever saw. She had creeks close by and her place was surrounded by nothing but evergreen and flowers which you could see by far. If you didn’t live out there you could easily become lost. My grandma Vinie didn’t like us kids to wonder off to far especially at night fall because you could here the cry’s of coyotes not to mention stumbling across the large tracks of a big cat. To get to her house I can remember our ears popping from the high altitude of driving up the mountain and to look down, ” oh my goodness it was so far down once you opened your eyes to sneak a peek it could make your tummy upset and kinda make you queezy.”
The next day we ventured back into town to travel on to visit another grandmother of ours her name was Beatrice and man she sure cursed kinda as much as a sailor and man how it made us laugh so hard because my brother, sister and I we werent aloud to speak profanity so to us it was the funniest thing we had ever heard.Her stories oh my gosh they sure werent like any other we had ever heard before. In her younger days she went through an altercation while incarcerated in a small town jail. She had gotten herself in to a pretty life theatening fight in which the other girl somehow managed to have a knife. My grandmother ripped that knife right out of that girls hands nearly sliced part of her boob clean off, she had said. I was certain that there was a little more to this story but, that was enough the rest my mom wouldnt let us hear.
To get to meet my mothers side of the family was almost like one of those old time country folk series you would watch on television. My cousins well most of them had red and blonde hair, light skinned with blue eyes who talked with a real country accent. One of my cousins in particular I can’t recall her name because its been so long and we had only met her that one time during this trip, had taken us out back where she had her own horses. Now this was the town of Mulberry, Arkansas and it was sort of off one of the old highways of some sort or another. Well she was telling us how much she loved her horse but that he was very ill and he was more than likely going to eventually die. She was so said and about to cry so we asked our cousin how come she just cant take it to the doctor and make it get well. “It’s not that simple”, she said. Turned out she said her horse was diagnosed with the Big C. “What’s the Big C,” I asked? She said that her horse was dying of cancer. She seemed to amaze us for the love and passion she had for her horse. We were almost ignorant to the disease because hell we didnt even know that anything other than a human being could even catch cancer. Eventually we had heard shortly after our visit our cousins horse, well it did die.
If it was not for some of the few chances we did get to go visit and meet my mothers side of the family well I would not have had the opportunity to learn a little more of my mothers past and learn alot more about her by seeing through my own eyes how she carried her self, or how much different my moms character to be free and just be herself while surrounded by her family and the learning how family can show you true love. It’s so amazing how two people that joined hands in matrimony to become husband and wife that once felt love for one another can all change so drastically and that the love could take a turn for the worst.