Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Hey, I can post an image again....

I'm not sure what was going on, but now I see the little "image" icon that allows me to post photos.

That said, I haven't a clue as to what to post photos of....???

For those that know me real well, know that my family tree isn't really big. 
Yes, there are family members out there in the world, but not a whole lot of CLOSE family. 
I can hear both my sisters and mother screeching right about now, but really, in the scope of FAMILY, it's pretty small-ish.

My parents were divorced and re-married twice (to each other) when I was very young, but I remember my father. 
He wasn't in the picture much and what I do remember weren't so great of memories. 
He passed away a few years ago of cancer and my little sister, who had never met him, and I went to see him about 6 months before his passing.

It was a good meeting, of sorts. 
Cordial, yet distant and strange. 
My sister, a grown woman and mother of two sons, finally, after many years, was able to recognize features of her own in him. 
Small feet. 
Small hands.
I, too, saw some similarities. 
Not so much in me, but in my own boys. 
Funny how that happens. 
Family. 
Maybe we never talk or have never met each other, but the genes are a sure sign!!!

A few weeks ago, or maybe it's months, time has been playing tricks on me lately with all that has been going on, one of my Aunt's (my father's sister-in-law) posted a few photos of our grandmother on Facebook.

This is my grandma. My dad's mom. 
She passed away when I was 11 or 12. 
We lived in Washington state at the time and I hadn't seen her since I was about 5. Sad.

When I saw this photo, and when my sister saw it, we both had the same comment - I have her eyes. 
I also have her square face. 
I can see my boys eyes too. 
Family genes are there, even if the contact isn't.

Of my father's three children, I was the only one who met her. 
His first child, a son, ended up with his mother and he never met her. 
My sister and I ended up with our mom after their divorce and so she was only about 2, so she never met her.

I, however, have a few memories of her. 
She was a caretaker of Hippo Ranch in Texas. I think it was Marfa? 
There was a main house with a huge stone fireplace and stone floors. 
I spent many moments in that living room spinning around and around in a comfy chair. 
My bare feet pitter-pattering on the cool stone.

There was a man caretaker there too. 
I remember his name was Hub. 
That was always such a funny name to me. 
Probably a nick name, but funny nonetheless.

My grandma lived in a smaller house on the property. 
She had a yard with Tortoises. 
Great big giant creatures. 
I'm sure they were regular size by tortoise standards, but I was just a little girl, maybe 4 or 5. 
They fascinated the heck out of me.

My grandma was a tough 'ol country woman. 
She drove a white International Scout. 
Granny gears and all. 
We rode all over that ranch. 
What I don't remember though, was what animal was on that ranch. 
Probably cattle?

One holiday season, she and my mom took me to a GINORMOUS department store full of Christmas trees all decorated for the season. 
Those trees had more lights and shiny decorations than my little self had ever seen. 
I will always remember that feeling - looking up at the magical forest.

We went to a store, maybe it was a toy store, or maybe it was just the toy section of Sears or Montgomery Wards or some such place. 
Then she said the magic words...

"Tina Marie, you can pick out ANY toy you want!" 
Man, oh man...ANY toy. 
The prettiest doll? 
The softest, fluffiest stuffed teddy bear? 
The sweetest, shiniest glass tea set? 
Nope! 
I was a tom-boy, even back then. 
I played in the mud. 
I made grass clipping and coffee ground pies with sticks for candles. 

Don't get me wrong. 
I later played with Barbies. Actually, Barbies "country" friends. 
Their legs were not jointed and their hair and skin wasn't nearly as - let's say - uptown girl...

But I do remember my grandma, Mattie, did have a homemade, long-legged, stuffed doll with elastic on the hands and feet - it was taller than me - that I  used to dance with at her house.

But, on that day, in December, I was a simple little country girl in the "big" city.

What did I choose, you're wondering...

Well, what every little girl chooses.....

A

little

red

metal

cash register 

with white and black

pop-up 

numbers!

Oh, what a treat!!!
Funny, though. 
As it turns out, yes, I need money, but it isn't a driving factor that I NEED money in my life. 
I'm NOT obsessed with it or anything.
I actually wish as a society, we could all just barter. 
My goods and talents for your goods and talents.
Simple I say.

Simple.

2 comments:

Kristen Robinson said...

Okay I am adoring this post it is touching and delightful, I do see your traits in your Grandmother! It would be great to barter wouldn't it!

Tina Schiefer said...

Thanks, Kristen.

It's amazing how far back our memories really go. Just a flood of them, sometimes.... :-)

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