Hey Cancer - 'eff YOU!

 

                   My son informed me today that he looks forward to my blogs.
Though at the start, I was writing one maybe two or even three per evening but then just as everything good does, that kind of dwindled. Now I feel as though I should get my mind wondering and my fingers gliding. What kind of Mother would I be to let down my son? Just a Regular One and not a Cool One like I am so - here we go. Again.

     My oldest daughter has just gotten a new job. I have every intention of leaving some thoughtful words of encouragement on her page for morning, before her shift since it is about impossible to pack her a small sack lunch box with a juice box that holds scribbles how I feel.

This is not about that though - this is about me and my story - of work.

     My first job was when I was about 17 or maybe 18, I don't really know? When you are that age it is not something you much think about unless you think you need to be legal for *cough whatever reason . I didn't. Hence be - when I was either 17 or 18, I had my first job. I worked at Wendy's in Redmond. I loved it there. I was paid to honestly have the time of my life.
     My Managers were great - one (Wayne) would always sing to me. Okay, more like bust out in song and dance - embarrassing me whenever I came in the door. Another (Darwin) felt it was his need to set me up with a "cute" guy so he was always handing my phone number out the drive through window. 

     There is the place where I met one of the first guys I would ever fall in love with as well as another one who I would have grand adventures with. It is a place my Best Friend worked at with me - until she got caught, a place where I would sneak into the freezer on hot days & eat Peppermint Patties rather then sticking thank you stickers on them. Where I learned to love the chili, always went in on my days off, taught the crew how to eat fries with mayonnaise and was only paid minimum wage of $3.85 though it seemed like a fortune back then - not because of being poor because we were far from that but because, like I already mentioned I loved it there.

Well, if I just didn't get side tracked - I don't know wo did.

My Grandfather had gotten sick while I worked there. F*CK CANCER!

     I guess he knew he didn't have long so I had to leave my job, my home, my life and move from The Redmond House to Old Owen in Monroe. Our home went on the market (it sold so quickly) because my Grandfather didn't want my Grandmother to be "alone" - not wanting to put the burden on me of always being "stuck" taking care of her so he figured he would move her up to my Aunt's Place. There was more then enough acres to put a house on - the sisters would be able to be together (again). My Grandmother was all for it as that is something that was easy to see if you have kept up on my other writings - the loathing I had growing up with the weekend trips to Marge's. Blah!

     Moving day came, funny, I still feel the pain in my heart while seeing the reflection of everything becoming smaller in the rear view mirror as we made each trip down the highway. I didn't want to go. I never wanted to go. I still don't want to go. One might not understand but those walls hold everything that I am inside of them. No matter how many places I have lived - Redmond House will always be HOME and if I am ever asked - it will always be my answer.

Well, if I didn't just get side tracked - I don't know who did.

     After we were settled into the new place, to say I was bored was an understatement. It was like living in Montana out there. Nothing but dirt, grass, rocks and more dirt. There was not a damn thing to do. I couldn't even walk to a store like I could at home - 10 minutes to be standing right in the middle of town. Here, it was 7 miles driving just to get to the one store they had. I despised it. Not sure if I mentioned that before but just wanted to make you aware.

     Marge's daughter-in-law worked at a honey company on the outskirts. *Pure Foods and I am not sure if it was the fact that I was bored and she was trying to save me or if it was the fact that Marge couldn't stand me and was tired of me always being under foot but Mary got me a job. Not an ideal job - placing your hands in boiling water to grab little plastic tops out to snap around one of those dang little honey bears that everyone thinks are so cute, but a job none the less which got me down the mile long driveway to the road and around the corner.
     I was quite nervous my first day as Mary was related and she was close friends with the boss and the man who owned the company. Maybe I showed it a little? I don't really recall. 

     The morning came for her to pick me up, my Grandfather who was bedridden at this point, was not able to eat anything or barely speak - wished me well in the best way that he could. I accepted it and off to work I went. I was still trying to figure things out when Mary was called to the office for a moment. I was pretty sure the boss wasn't happy with me because at one point the whole factory needed to be shut done because someone, I won't say it was me but okay, it was me, set one of the bears on the belt a little off - where the honey didn't go into the top of it but rather all over the belts - that was about a 2 hour job of cleaning up.
     Mary came back to the floor and my eye caught hers. She smiled and I must have looked puzzled because she said that she had gotten a phone call. She then went on to tell me that it was my Grandfather that called - he was just checking on me to see if I was doing alright.

      As sick as he was he made it to the phone or the phone made it to him, either way and all the strength he had - he called to see if I was okay. 
- Yeah, I cried then and I am crying now.

The "small" or what would seem like small jester to anyone was something big for him and huge to me. I lost my Grandfather not very long after that but the unconditional love he had for me, I need my kids to know I have that for them as well. 

     Now I promise that I won't be calling my daughter at work - I cant promise I wont be stopping in from time to time though to check on her - but I will promise that as soon as I finishing with this, I will be posting on her page how proud I am of her. I think it might make her tear up a little because I know that I don't say it as often as I should but I believe that being proud of someone is a big thing - more then the everyday - it is accomplishments, milestones - celebrations. Something I want each of my children to remember I was there for (them) - cheering them on during their journey in only the "loudest" way that a COOL MOM Like me - CAN DO.

                                                       Kazz 💋