Life Thru Diffdrent Eyes 8 I guess its time to reveal some other things about myself. First I want to say that I am not perfect by any means, that the influence of my wacky family left me making choices for myself that were not always the best choices. The thing that makes me 'different' from the others is that I am willing to face my bad choices, learn from them and move on. To run away from home at 14 was perhaps not the smartest thing, it could have cost me my life...but the fact that if I stayed home that also could have cost my life made it the appropriate decision for me. That month is forever burned in my memory...as a family (including aunts, uncles and cousins) we had traveled from Wenatchee to Seattle to visit the World Fair (also known as Century 21 Exposition). We were there on opening day, it took us a bit to find a parking spot, there were thousands and thousands of people that made it nearly impossible to drive much less walk. I was one month shy of my 15th birthday, I had never seen that many people in one place before and I was in awe of that. Its one thing to read in history books/current events, how many people there are in a specific area. Its quite another to actually see what looked to me as a carpet of never ending people, color, patterns and to hear the sounds. The fair ran from April 21, 1962, to October 21, 1962, we were in Seattle for 5 days and tho I am not sure of the actual date he was there, Elvis was filming 'It Happened at the World's Fair'. That was the only thing my cousin LynD was interested in:-) And we did see him but I'm not sure where or if he was filming as we went through the exhibits. It was at the fair that I did my first abstract. There was a machine that you used to put the paint on the canvas board, I am not sure of the steps involved but the image above is my image( I actually have 2). I found it when I was cleaning things out at my grans house, along with three of my elementary school report cards. Looking at those things took me to a place that I was surprised to find, the actual beginning of the lies about my father. One report card gives me my stepfathers last name, that was, I understand now, to 'protect me' from knowing about my real father and an effort to keep me hidden from him. I did not take that last name nor would I, given the sexual abuse I endured at his hands. The thing that interested me most about those report cards, was the consistancy of my good behavior, helpfullness, eagerness to learn and my high interest in reading, writing and art.. Finding those things also led me to other memories. At that time we lived on a small farm on Three Lakes Hill, 5 miles from the small town we lived in. The day that I ran away was a planned event, not a good plan but one I thought was good for the moment. The night before I had been beaten and confined to my room, life simply sucked at home...I lived in fear and the only way to not be in that frame of mind was to leave. So the next morning my mother was picking blackberries in the pasture. She made me go out with her and just sit silently while she worked, shortly after she rounded a corner I asked if I could brush Candy, our Arabian mare...she would be able to see the back side of Candy so she agreed. Poor Candy wound up tied to the fence for hours and only partially brushed. I ran for the house, grabbed a couple silver dollars and some small miscellaneous items. She was in the back pasture so she souldn't see the house or the road, as soon as I got everything I wanted I called my best friend and asked if she wanted to go with me, she said yes, so I then went to the road and hitchhiked with one of the neighbors, telling them I had permission to go to town to get something from the store for my mom. I remember that my palms were sweating because I was afraid of getting caught and I was trembling a little so I held my hands tight in my lap. My friends parents ran a small gas station near The Bicycle Tree and they were busy with the customers so it didn't occur to them that they should call my mom to see if it was okay for me to be there. Within the hour my friend and I were hitching our way to Seattle. She had an uncle that had a business there and she would be able to borrow some money from him, that would pay for our room that night and something to eat. After that night we had no money and no idea what we were going to do. We wound up sleeping some nights on park benches, other nights on cold bathroom floors of gas stations, other nights with street people we met, About a month after we left my friend decided she wanted to go back home and begged me to go with her but I knew what I faced at the wrath of my mom and so I was then on my own. Was I afraid of being on my own? No, I was confident that I would make it on my own and I did. One of the jobs I had was with Rainier Shows, a small carnival that traveled in Washington state. I sold tickets, did concession stands and was a barker (A barker is a person who attempts to attract patrons to entertainment events, such as a circus or funfair) for the roulette wheel. Thats where I learned that carnival or fair games are rigged, after all they are there to make money, not give it away. The old thing of 'running away to join the circus' is true. While there are adults that have been doing their jobs for years, there are also runaway kids that get fake ID to travel with the show. While with them I saw the Capital Building in Olympia, Washington. And I met my next boss...I became a live in babysitter/housekeeper for a single mom who worked in a bar and rode with one of the local motorcycle gangs. I honed my skills as a cook and basked in the praise of those who came to her house to eat. I remember one of the women saying 'she is going to make someone a good wife.' Being a wife was not something I thought about, I was too busy learning about life to give up being me at that point. By that I mean that I was able to take care of myself so I didn't need to be married. My idea of marriage then was women got married so their husbands would take care of them...remember I said earlier that my grandfather said to learn so I did not have to depend on a man. And from all I had seen of marriage, the woman was never happy and the man was never faithful or good to his wife. I have however seen better ones since. When you are a bartender you learn alot about life, you learn how to listen, counsel and for sure when to keep your mouth shut! I worked at 6 different taverns in Seattle. My favorite was Traveler's Tavern located by the Greyhound Bus Station. The owners were a couple from New York, New York and she had done commercials for beer on the Johnny Carson show. They were really great people and they had a great bar. It was filled with the over 50 gang for regulars, and then some of my followers. There were some great stories from those folks, most had no family left, some died while I was working there. It was there that I had my first matsa balls, latkes (potato pancakes) lox and bagels and pastrami. The man Al, that lived across the street from the bar brought me things he had cooked. I now have a Polish cookbook and I cook several dishes from that. And I remember Al each time I have the dishes...noting that I do not like matza balls or lox and bagels but I love many of the other things. In that bar I had the priveledge of trying many different foods, octopus, sushi, native american fry bread and fried corn just to mention a few. I am absolutely honored by all the people, life and lessons during those years. It was in Seattle that some years later I met my first husband, a sailor from an Ice Breaker named the U.S.S. Staten Island. I have two children by him, his initials were M.L.A. and those were the initials of both of my childens names as well. Unfortunately, family history led me to make bad choices in husbands, alcoholics, wife beaters and womanizers. It was preached to me as a child that I had to stay in the marriage or I would spend eternity in Hell so for that reason I stuck it out longer than I should have. I now believe that I already lived through Hell, biblical Hell could not possibly be worse, and came out on the better side by leaving them. It took many years to convince my family that I would not be expected to stay in a situation that bad, that the Father would not want that for me and I would not be sent to Hell.It was only after my divorces that my mother finally divorced my stepfather, she believed she would go to Hell and so she stayed for that reason I believe far more than I believed she 'loved him'. I am so thankful that my mind was so much stronger than hers and that I was able to 'teach' her something that made her life a whole lot easier. Of course I have made dozens of mistakes in my life but again, I am thankful that I learned from them. I watch people around me today who simply haven't a clue as to how not to keep making the same mistakes over and over and miring themselves down into a place that they can't get out of. They suffer and their children suffer and still they don't learn. I guess it must just be easier for some to stay in that mindset rather than venture outside of the box to see if there is something different.... **The image above is my First Grade Report Card and my first Abstract from Seattle Worlds Fair, 1962. I had forgotten the details about that art work and when speaking with Alex he reminded me of the process and the name of the art is Spin Art. Thank You my Alex! For those who know about my daughter, she is in Cairo now trying to get a flight. There is no contact with her again until she has a flight scheduled and then she will call me (hopefully soon!). Thank you so much to all of you who kept her in your thoughts and prayers. Thanks also for taking the time to read and for previous comments and favs! And last but not least, Happy Valentines Day to you all!!!