Blog Archive

Saturday, July 2, 2016

The Only Thing Worth Doing, Is What We Do For Others

I watched the new Alice Through the Looking Glass movie this morning.  I actually quite enjoyed it.  It teaches lessons of time, and how we can't change the past, but we can learn from it.  It shows that caring for others, and helping others, is what shapes us.
One of the lines was actually (said by Alice, her quoting her father) "The only thing worth doing, is what we do for others."
This quote describes my life 100%.  Yes, there is often, I just do for me.  I buy my snacks, I buy my soda, I make time for a 45-minute soaking bath at least once a week, I read when I can, I fit in time to do genealogy, etc.  BUT me being me if I am not helping someone, doing for others, being there for someone, I feel useless.  There was once when I was staying with a friend, and to help pay my rent, I was cleaning, and helping out around the house.  Well, one day she got into a mood, and lashed out at me, saying she didn't want my help anymore (she was frustrated about things, and other issues, that only had about 25% to do with me) and she went off on me.  That was a Friday afternoon, on Saturday I stayed in my room all day, and then on Sunday morning when I got up, I was so depressed, because I felt I had no place in life.  (Do not worry, she and I have worked things out, and I am back to being her helper, as I said, it was only a small part
But back to my original subject.  I am a caregiver, it's who I am.  I am a live-in caregiver at an adult foster care home.  There are five women that I am responsible for.  I cook, clean, pass meds, do laundry, give showers, and whatever else needs to be done.  I really enjoy doing this, not because I enjoy taking care of people, but the girls themselves make it fun.
I will always prefer to be doing for others, rather than only doing for myself.

Thursday, May 5, 2016

And the Journey Continues

If someone had told me five or ten years ago, that I would be where I was at, I would have called them nuts.
No where in my greatest dreams would I have actuall had one of my dreams realized, let alone two of them.
In the past five years, I have lived in five states (Missouri, Indiana, Iowa, Michigan, and now Oregon).  I have gone back to school, and just done so much, that is blows the mind.  Knowing that I have been able to accomplish this in just five years, helps me to realize that I can do so much more with my life.
I am now living in Oregon with a friend of mine.  In about a months time, I will be moving into an adult foster home, I will be a caregiver for a few people.  I have always loved taking care of people, and being there for them, and having been able to be a live in caregiver for people is something I love.
So, let me give you a run-down.  I am living with my friend L.A. and her husband G.D.  I have been friends with LA for about 8 or so years, I believe we met online sometime between 2006-2008.  We were both members of an online bookclub, and became best friends over time.  For a number of years now, she has been inviting me to move out with her, and finally this year I was able to.  She seriously needs a babysitter, lol.  She has a lot of health problems, diabetes, heart problems, had portions of her right foot amputated, and other problems.  The other night, she as staying up too late, and fell asleep in her recliner, and attempted to sleep walk, fell and broke her wrist.  I have been threatening to wrap her in bubble wrap!

Another thing, I am working on getting back into genealogy, because of so much issues the past few years, it has fallen by the wayside.  I am still continuing to work on my own family, but I am also working on LA's and another friends.
I will start talking about LA's.  Her famil is a complete mystery, and we are actually leaning towards that her family has lied to her all her life.  She was told that her mother died when she was about one, and her father remarried.  Her stepmother adopted her, and the birth certificate she has, has her supposed birth mothers name on it.  Here is the mystery, supposedly her birth name is Lorraine Elizabeth Keen born unknown, married Randolph Samuel Zeisel sometime after 1963 and before 1968.  LA was born May 1968, and Lorraine died about 1969 or 1970.  Randolph married (get ready for this one) Lorraine's half sister, Lorraine Ellen Keen.  Yes, I said that right.  They married 1970 or 1971, as the next child born was born in 1971.
I cannot find anything on Lorraine Elizabeth, nothing at all.  No birth, no census, no death record, anything, no marriage records.
I am also unable to find a marriage record for Randolph and Lorraine Ellen.  I have found a marriage record for Lorraine Ellen and a guy named Price in 1963.  And LA remembers that she had heard rumors of her father having been married to a Helen, and I found information that he may have been married to Lillian when he was living in California.
Randolph Samuel Zeisel was born 1919 in Baltimore, Maryland.  During World War Two he was in the Navy, and traveled alot, we believe that was when he met Lillian, and they lived in Long Beach, California for years after that.  He then came back to Maryland, sometime in the 60's, may have married Helen at this time, and then married Lorraine.
LA and I are wondering if her family lied to her, was Lorraine Ellen really her true mother? Or perhaps one of her sisters, and there was something going on? We have no idea, as everyone from that generation is gone.  LA's father was 56 when she was born, Lorraine Ellen was about 26.  LA said she really did not have contact with her mother's side of the family, so if I do not want to work on this mystery, she is fine with that, but I hate such a mystery, it will eat at me!!

The other family I am working on, is the Estes family.  A number of years ago, I was good friends with this guy.  We have kept minmal contact, but we have kept in touch.  When we were friends way back when, I did some basic research on his famil, well he contacted me the other day, and wants me to do more research, so here I go.

Sunday, September 13, 2015

I think we should change the wordage of forgiveness.  Many people have the idea that the definition of “to forgive” means to put yourself into that persons place, and try to understand why they did what they did.  And this is a correct definition.  But there is also another definition, not allowing yourself to be a victim anymore, empowering yourself to not allow that person to control your thoughts and emotions. 
Black slavery, the Native Americans, the Jews, the Syrians, and so many many more, what do these people have in common?  They have been controlled by another race or people, and a true genocide was brought upon them.
The whites today say that we should move on, and that slavery was a long time ago.  They say it is not their place to apologize, nor should the blacks of today feel enraged by the atrocities brought upon their families.  Why not? No one blinks an eye when someone apologizes to the Jews for the things that happened to them!  Honestly, black atrocities did not begin to end (and still have not truly ended) until the 1960’s!  They were not allowed to vote, or sit anywhere they wanted, or share a normal bathroom, or even just simply speak to a white person, just because!  What was happening in Nazi Germany in the 30’s and 40’s to the Jews, being forced out of homes, not being allowed to shop in stores, or own stores, or whatever, was STILL being done to the blacks in the United States in the 1960’s.  So why can’t we apologize to them for that?  Why cannot I say to a friend of mine, “I am sorry for the way your people were treated in a certain time, I promise you, and that you will never get the same type of treatment from me?”
Another case in point, women are often reminded of the phrase “rape culture”.  That if we, as women, look a certain way, dress a certain way, or say certain words, we are the ones “asking for it”.  Even many of us women unconsciously think that way.  For example, many years ago, I was taking care of a 16 year old.  This was back when I was married, and this girl would come out of her room with a skirt and blouse on.  No problem, right? Wrong, she had nothing on underneath, and they were see through.  My husband would sit there staring at her in shock, and she would get mad at him for staring, and then would get mad at me when I would tell her she needed to put proper clothes on.  I told her she was asking for the wrong attention.  I NEVER said she was “asking for it” just the wrong attention.  But she took it to mean that I was saying she was asking for it.  She said that everyone needed to just simply not look at her.  It does not matter whether a girl or woman is walking down the street buck naked, or covered head to foot in a burqa or some other type of clothing.  Whether she is Muslim, Jewish, Amish, or whatever, she is to be RESPECTED, not treated worse than a farmer treats his cattle.
As a people, as human beings, we need to stop being victims!  We need to stand up and say we refuse to allow others to tell us how to think and feel.  If we need to forgive someone, as in the sense of getting on with our lives, and not allowing a black cloud of apathy to live within our soul, then that is what we need to do.  We do not need to put ourselves in their position, or their thought process, we simply need to move past the control they had over us at one point, and have control over ourselves, otherwise they have won, and they control our very being, until we died, even long after THEY have died.
Does there need to be a true atonement from the perpetrator, for there to be forgiveness? That is the question all of us need to ask of ourselves.  Are we willing to forgive the sin, or the person? Are we doing this to show others how much bigger of a person we are, or are we doing it to heal our souls? This is a question we can only ask ourselves, no one else.  No one knows our emotions, or our deepest thoughts.  Who do we want to be as we grow mentally, emotionally and spiritually?  

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

PCOS Awareness Month

I had thought about making a video, and I am still pondering that.  But finding the time, and a good place to do it, is hard.  Here is my story, it is hard, it is long, and it is heartbreaking.  Please, understand, I am not doing this for sympathy, or attention.  The ONLY attention I want from this, is people realizing and understanding the pain and agony my mother and I have been through in the past 50 plus years.
My mother is the middle child of five daughters.  Two older than her, two younger.  Her sisters (well, not anymore, with age and so forth), growing up, were the skinny “pretty” ones.  Mom began gaining weight about the age of 9-11, and packed the pounds on pretty quickly.  I do not remember what age she has told me she started her period, but I do know, her periods have always been wonky. 
My parents married June 3, 1972.  Mom immediately began on birth control, with the hopes that during her lifetime, she could have about 6 children.  My mother was in the generation, where women could choose to do one or the other.  Either get married and have children, and be a stay at home mom (being traditional), or be a little on the odd side, and look for a career.  Although mom wanted to be a nurse (like her mother had been before she married), she chose the traditional route.  But the traditional route laughed at her, and said, “nope, not for you.”  In October 1972, she went off the bc, and within a couple of weeks was pregnant.  What is funny, her doctors tried telling her that she wasn’t pregnant, but (I) was just a mass or tumor, and they were going to keep an eye on it.  Yeah, I am a big mass alright, lol.
I was born June 25, 1973.  I was a little tiny thing.  Spiky red hair everywhere, I was nicknamed both spider moneky, and Tarzana, as once I got older, I was climbing all over EVERYTHING.  I was a very normal active child.  We lived across the street from the high school, and there were basketball courts, parks, a pool, tennis courts and a running track (the hs football field and track).  During the summer, I was rarely home, I was at one of the parks, or walking the girl scout trails (some trails that in some woods about half mile from our house).  At the pool, or just OUT.  The summer I turned nine, I went from a typical skinny 8/9 year old weighing around 85-95 pounds, to about 130/40.  I ballooned very quickly.  By sixth grade (around age 12, and when I first started my period), I was weighing 150.  By eighth grade I was 175.  When I graduated high school, I was just under five foot, and weighing in at 200.
When I was around 8 or 9, I remember being called into the principals office, and being made to take my underwear off.  She wanted to see why I smelled so badly.  I had dark marks on my underwear, and these were not from not wiping properly.  I am just NOW realizing, I had to have been having my period since around 8 or 9.  It was just the dark ugly old blood that was trying to slough off.  I was constantly teased in school for smelling, being stinky, etc. 
When I was 12, I was in the hospital to get my tonsils out.  I began having horrible cramps while there, and they tried giving me childrens Tylenol for the pain, and that is when we found out I was allergic to Tylenol.  I go into seizures, and then I sleep for about two days afterwards.  I am just like my father in this way.  He is very sensitive to many medicines, and can take very little for anything.
My father has metabolic syndrome.  Metabolic syndrome is basically a combination of conditions, that include weight around the waist, high blood pressure, high levels of blood sugar, and abnormal cholesterol levels (sound familiar my cysters?). 
When I got out of the hospital, I truly didn’t realize my period had started, as I was still doing that brownish, blackish ick stuff still.  It just got heavier and heavier.  I started school the end of August, and between the stress of starting junior high, now having to use the locker room for gym, and well, just simply growing up, my period went wonky.  My very first period was about three months long.  In about the middle of 8th grade, my mom took me to the doctor and they put me on birth control.   Two years later I began having sever migraines, and those lasted until I was in my late 20’s.  I do not know if the migraines were part of it, but they sure did not help. 
When I was 17 years old, around November 1990, my mother found out she was diabetic.  She was put on metformin, and changed her diet.  She lost about 50-60 pounds, and was looking really good.  In early August of 1991, mom found out she was pregnant (tho had suspected it since about late May).  But it was too late, the medicine that had helped her get pregnant, (metformin), had hurt the baby, and had not survived. 
On August 26, 1991, my mother was induced, and she gave birth to my sister Judyth Eireen Heyen.  At the same time, in the same hospital, my cousin (three years my senior) gave birth to a little boy.  My mom and ended up doting on that boy.  I helped raise him til he was 8, and we are still all very close.
For the next many years, I kept to myself, trying to figure out whether I wanted to get married and have kids, or if it was dream to never come true.
I got married when I was 28.  My husband and I went back and forth with the decision.  What did not help, is that because of PCOS, I also have bipolar and anxiety disorder.  With the bipolar, I can go from being happy and dancing around the house, to attack mode in five seconds flat.  I scream, I holler, I hit, throw things.  I am not ME when this takes over me.  I have been unable to be on meds for it, because none of the doctors ever see me in the manic.  They tell me I have mild depression, throw some Prozac at me, and say I will be fine in a few weeks.
Although this is not completely what broke my marriage up, it sure as heck did NOT help.  The last few years, I have been trying to work on ME.  I have calmed my assitude (you know, the attitude that shows how much of an ass you really are?) down, but I still struggle with it.  I have gone back to school, I am single.  I am not happy, but guess what, that is ok.  As long as I am content, have my music, my books, and a place to live, I can work with it.  Being happy is overrated, I just want to survive, and some days, that is iffy.
Although my life is more than just the PCOS, it is difficult some days.  Yes I allow it to control me, but I am better than that.  I control me, my moods, my thoughts, who I am.  What will the future bring? I have no idea, but I am looking up, instead of behind.

I hope all of my cysters share their stories, and their struggles, and know how much they are loved.  We are more than just the illness, we are woman who have survived.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

5 June 2013

Really? I go that many days, ugh, I am horrible, oh well, live with it!

So today, what is on the table? Many people know that I grew up in Mexico, Mo, and at the moment, I am obsessed with reading the facebook page Memories of Growing UP in Mexico, Mo.  I am looking at all the old pictures, trying to place where things had been, where my house was located close to it, stuff like that.
This next pic, it is our own personal Graceland.  It is the museum in Mexico, and it is on Muldrow Street, one of the main streets in town.
Something that is a bit *odd* about Mexico, there is no Main Street, nor numbered streets.  I believe this is the only town I know of that does not have any numbered streets.  And another odd thing about Mexico, there is not one street that goes straight from north to south, or east to west, that goes all the way through town.  It is almost a maze, and a few of the streets change names at least twice, and a couple of them three or four times.  One of the biggest being, West Boulevard, East Boulevard, Green Boulevard, Agriculture, and then becomes Highway J.
Muldrow becomes Western, and then that becomes Paris Road (Highway 15).
So back to the history of Mexico.  With having lived there until I was 26, so that means from the early 70's to the late 90's.  I knew a lot of people.  And growing up a Jehovah's Witness (which, yes, I am still one!) that means I grew up knowing quite a few people.  So for the fun of it, I have done the research on their families, and who they were, and how they connected to Mexico.  Although, I have to admit, I have not done any of the work such as the ones at the Genealogical Society have done, they are wonders there!!
On June 3rd 1972, my parents got married.  They were married at the Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses on Breckenridge Street.
They were married by Larry Minor, and he has been a family friend for many years.  So Mexico will always be a very special place to me.
My grandmother Henrietta (Scott) Heyen, was a painter, and her name was well known in that area of Missouri.
This is her rendition of me, at about age 4
Okay, thats enough for today!

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Start Again! June 1 2013

I have been so horrible about keeping up with this blog, well lets just start over and go again!

1 June 2013
Word of the Day: Ken-
knowledge, understanding, or cognizance; mental perception: an idea beyond one's ken.
Today is Dare Day.  What is Dare Day? well we all know what a dare is, you can play truth or dare with a friend, challenge a friend to some type of dare, or here is the really challenging one.....dare yourself your own type of challenge.  Today I am doing that, I am jumping feet first back into my blog.  I am going to challenge myself to stick with it for one whole month.  I will come up with some unique ideas, post genealogy ideas, and whatever else pops into my evil little mind!
This is also the kick off of Adopt a Cat Month.....awwwwe, such cute little things!!
This cop, when he stopped a motorist, never expected to have a partner that day!
I am going to post a link to the Indianapolis Humane Society, since that is where I am at.
 here are a few that are available for adoption!
Bob Barker just love  name!
Sheldon Bazinga!
Sonic  (he would need a Tardis!)
Okay, yes, the ones I chose, would be because of their names, all of those have special meaning to me!
People with today's bday: (taken from FindaGrave)
Morgan (Wuppermann), Frank (Francis Philip) (played five roles in Wizard Of Oz)