Looking Back
Actually taking the time and reviewing your life, then putting it to pen and paper and seeing how things played out can have a really powerful impact on how you focus on the rest of your life, at least it did for me. It wasn’t any of the events throughout my past that impressed me, but how I chose to confront them. I want to share “me” with you. With the hope that you’ll come to understand as I have that we all have the freedom to choose, even if the choice seems socially and humanly impossible.
My life is so far from being material for the big screen but it does serve to show that choice is ours to make and the benefits are unmeasurable!
#here we go
I grew up in a middle class family.
I was happy, really happy. I have two sisters, I’m the oldest… enough said. My middle sister was afflicted with a condition call Rett Syndrome, which we learned is a rare degenerative disease prevalent in young females. From what I’ve noticed, a family with a special needs sibling can either draw the family closer or sadly, in some situations, damage and divide the family unit. Fortunately, we were the former. Our family is extremely close and seemed to be, through my eyes, the center of the universe. Like I said previously, I was happy. My youngest sister and I were talking one day and casually, the conversation turned to which of us were our parent's favorite….no contest there! Obviously, I was positive that I was mom and dad’s favorite kid…I was the first born and the coolest! Then my sister chimes in with “ NO” she was so sure she was numero uno in the family, after all she was their precious baby!!!! Each of us truly believed that we were the sparkle in our parents eyes…..and as soon as we said all that we looked at each other and just laughed… we both know that our sissy was their entire reason for existence. She was their world and ours.
It amazes me to this day how our parents managed to be there for each of us. We felt loved, supported and needed all at the same time. Our parents didn’t have a handbook or self help blog that took them through all the stages of their lives and ours. They clung to each other, their children and their faith.
Yep, I’m one of those… I was brought up in the church, I was never pushed to believe or practice the faith, it was just a way of life. We went to church regularly. I remember working my way through all the grades of Children’s Church and as I got older I started to go to the early service with my father. My mother and sister went to the second service so there would be someone home for my sis that had become bed ridden as she matured. This simple weekly ritual by far was the most important and precious thing my parents did for us, for me, bringing me up in the knowledge of the love God has for us. It saved my life. Sounds a little dramatic, I know, but it did. You’ll see, keep reading. I understand that we may not all have had that kind of upbringing but it’s never too late to hear that God loves you..no matter what, that means he loves you right now just as you are. He’s always been there for you, it’s up to you to let Him into your life. I’ve made my own decisions and led my life the way “I” thought it should go but when things felt wrong, and they did, or when I was confused, which was more often than I’d like to admit… I knew where to run.
I remember one afternoon when I was about 15 or 16 and my youngest sister was around 10 our parents called us into the dining room and sat us down at the dinner table. I knew something was up because it wasn’t dinner time and we never just casually sat in the dinning room, ever…. we always migrated to where my sis was, and as she got older, that was in her bedroom which my father enlarged and transformed into the family room, fireplace and all. This way, sissy was in the middle of everything, always. My dad began to explain to us that their friends, who had a handicapped son, decided for his benefit, to institutionalize him. I could tell that their decision had opened up a hornets nest in my parent’s minds. What was going to happen to our sister when we grew up and left the nest? We really hadn’t ever talked about it …. but we did that day. So the question was put in front of us, should our sister be institutionalized? My dad explained that it would have to be a family decision and how that would affect the family unit and most importantly, each of us. He explained that if we decided to keep everything as it was, it would mean that all of our lives would revolve around my sister in our adult lives. I don’t think we let my father finish his thoughts because all I can remember was our emphatic answer to his question. “She’s our sister and she stays here with us and we’ll make it work”…and yes we know what that means to us all!! (did we really?) lol.
We never had that conversation again. The family unit was staying in tact.
I kept with the church as I grew and attended youth group. I made great friends there and had a lot of memorable times. But as in many cases, things change, we grow up, we lose contact with our youth, at least some of us do, and we start thinking for ourselves and find that its our time to make those decisions that will sculpt our lives….. eeek!
My parents noticed early on in my life that I was “artistic” and creative. My father took me under his wing and taught me the basics of drawing and perspective when he found the time. He was an artist by hobby. I remember a black and white photo of him, taken while he was in the military serving overseas, sitting at a very large easel doing caricatures for the men in his unit wishing the families back home a Merry Christmas. When it came to graduating and finding a college to attend I looked at various universities throughout the state just like most of my friends were doing. Deep down in my heart, I figured I’d end up going to a local college and living at home to help out with things. One of the best memories of my father’s love for me was one day while I was still trying to decide which of those local institutions I’d attend, he asked me to hop in the car and go for a ride with him. I did, and what happened ended up being one of the pivotal decisions in my life in many ways and would affect my life and career. We drove to the city which was about 30 minutes from where we lived. We went past the art museum to a building I’d never seen before, it was quite contemporary and stuck out like crazy. I eventually learned that it was designed by Yamasaki the architect that designed the WTC in NYC. We pulled up to the front of the building and stopped right in front of it, I can remember him being very excited and proud when he asked me if I’d like to attend this school. I just kept looking at all the people coming and going…. carrying canvases, sketch pads, cameras… it was crazy! I mean CRAZY!! I was speechless… it was a very famous and well respected private art institute. In fact, my art teacher in high school, whom I really admired and who was an established artist in his own right referred to it often and made it sound impossible for anyone to get into unless their name was Pollack, Ansel Adam or Chihuly… #I may be exaggerating… lol, but you get the picture. I think I was numb!!! OF COURSE I WANT TO GO HERE!!!!!!! Was this really happening? So I applied and not only got in, but received an honorary scholarship….go figure!!! I was shocked. It was amazing to actually live and breathe art all day, every day!
I found a job at a local high end retail store and started socking the bucks away for all the art supplies. I majored in illustration and minored in painting (oil) which sounds like an oxymoron… advertising and fine arts together… it is….I loved it…. it worked for me… get over it… My first year I met a couple students that were as green behind the ears as I was. We all stuck out like sore thumbs, none of us, in our little clique had locked onto the “uniform” of the day yet… the iconic long hair, jeans usually torn, T shirts and combat boots, and that was both genders! We still were fixed on looking nice, clean cut hair, button down shirts and matching sweater. #man what were we thinking???
We clung to each other as if our lives depended on it… this place was “out there” needless to say!
This was all so new to me and I didn’t want it to end.