It has been a while since I wrote something here or anywhere else. The time is done. I'm ready to write -- again.
I was accosted on Facebook from Billie Jo Fitch (or whoever she is now that she is married and settled). I had posted a GoFundMe post to help me defray the costs of having a car now that I am back in Ohio. Billie Jo is my foster sister, the young girl from a broken family who came to live with us, or rather with the Mushroom and Beany when they were the only children still living at home. Billie Jo and her brother, Robert, were chosen to live with us because they were similar in age to the Mushroom and Beany and would keep them company. Billie Jo and Robert were from a broken home and had been sent to Children's Services to live with foster families. There were more of the Fitches, like Beth, Wanda, and the other children who were older and younger than Billie Jo and Robert, some of them nearing majority and being old enough to go out on their own.
I've not seen or heard from Billie Jo since I left Ohio almost 20 years ago and she shows up on Facebook, which has been one of the worst sites for reconnecting with old friends and frenemies and even antagonists. Billie Jo and Beany used to babysit with my young boys on weekends while I worked or went out on the town with some random guy back when I dated. Billie Jo and Beany stayed in my apartment and kept an eye on the boys. They could be a handful at times, but the girls were up to the task. That was more than 30 years ago when I was still young and dating.
In between, Billie Jo and Beany have gone on with their lives and I went on with mine. I occasionally chatted with Beany until I moved back to Ohio, but no more. Her time is taken up by her new husband and their children: his and hers. Beany has also retired and Billie Jo claims she has not fared well when it comes to my writing about my life when I include Beanie and BB in my writing. I can be blunt and judgmental at times, and it usually comes out when I illustrate a point or something about my life from my perspective. That is how the Mushroom, Beany, and BB have featured in my blogs and journals when I write about myself -- from my point of view.
Mom fostered Billie Jo and Robert to fill her shrinking nest again. She didn't look forward to getting older or her children leaving the nest and got another boy, one of the three, four, or five boys she added to her nest in previous years. One was from another broken home, two were teenage boys that were talented and second cousins that grew up and moved on with their lives. Dave and Earl went their separate ways, Dave to the Marines and Earl to the big wide world. They were more mine and BB's age and were briefly considered kissing cousins temporarily, but that didn't stick either. I had my own boyfriends and so did BB, one of whom she actually married and had two children with when she moved out and on after years of back and forth disagreements and jewelry to make up and get back together. Her first husband went by the wayside along the way and BB married again and again and again. Dave liked BB well enough, but there were no sparks flying from that pairing.
Beany married and went her way, keeping her children close and Mom and Carol kept Beany's husband close until time took its toll and Beany went through the breakup of her marriage, keeping her marriage together until the bitter end. And bitter it was. Then she met her present husband and took over helping raise her husband's teenage boys from his previous marriage.
I'm sure Billie Jo went her own way, met her husband, and had her children from her marriage. It wasn't like Beany, BB, and the Mushroom kept their lives from me, even including me in their weddings and the births of some of their children. For the rest of their lives, I have hovered in the background chasing around the country, following my job wherever it took me, and it took me many places all around the country. I always loved to travel and followed the road over the next hill and the hill after that, spending time in most of the states, living there briefly before moving on down the road everywhere my heart and my car took me. I had good times and bad times and in between times following the road and taking my job with me wherever I went. I connected online, did my job, made new friends, and made my way alone. Always alone. Good thing I had no problem being alone and making my way in new states and communities, making friends, making dates, and keeping the road hot as I traveled.
I kept in touch with Mom and my three siblings by phone and I kept in touch by letter as well. Good thing I had a cache of stamps to stick to the letters and wrote to friends, family, and cousins, uncles, and aunts. I liked writing letters and keeping in touch. I especially liked writing to my Uncle Bob who always called and we talked for a couple of hours whenever he was around and feeling chatty.
My favorite uncle died a year or so ago and I miss him still. Since I have moved back to Ohio, I have spent an Easter dinner with my cousins and their friends, siblings, and friends. I was back and back in the lap of my extended family, though I missed my uncle at least I was glad to be back with my family and eating good cooking and great friendship. My cousin Laura picked me up at the rehab since I was out of the hospital and brought me back, but I enjoyed spending time with all of my cousins, friends, spouses, and my Aunt Lois. I was home.
It wasn't the homecoming I expected, but it was a homecoming I enjoyed and shared the Easter meal with all of my relatives and friends. Since that time, I have moved back out into the world and got to know more of my extended family in real life and not just in pictures, of which I have many. I'm here to tell you that pictures are great memories, but they do not compare to the real life vision and feeling of having family around you. There is nothing like being close enough to share a meal and a holiday with family. I always loved family meals and though there are fewer of us now that the older ones of us have gone, family is family as long as there is love, communication, and more love.
Billie Jo was not present when I returned to Ohio nor did she visit me in the hospital or rehab. Since she has been a no-show, going on about her life and making connections with her own family, I didn't miss her just as I didn't miss her when I was keeping the roads hot and traveling around the country. You don't miss what you never really had. Billie Jo, Robert, Bertha (now called Beth), Wanda, and the rest had their own life after they moved on and out of Mom's ever full nest. Her nest eventually emptied and found their own lives, had their own children, and celebrated the holidays their own way. I am happy for them and wish them all the best.
Unfortunately, Billie Jo accosted me with her preconceived notions of me, remembering the past, especially the less than savory parts when I was fumbling and finding my own place in the world. She remembers the unsavory parts and has not gotten to know me since then and definitely not now that I am a senior citizen, fumbling and finding my own place back in Ohio as a senior citizen who has been gone a long time and who has kept up with those who were and have been close to me.
I have a new life and new hurdles to take and now that I am back in society trying to find a different path for myself since the part of the path I have walked for over thirty years had been taken from me and sent offshore, leaving me alone and bereft. To that end I have decided to travel this new road through the virtuals halls of college, finding a new way of looking at life and society and carving out a new future since my old future has been jerked out from underneath me.
I'm like a cat; I always land on my feet -- even if it takes a while to twist and turn until I land on my feet when I was dropped from a prodigious height. I still landed on my feet and I am open to whatever the universe sends me. I am adaptable and I always land on the path heading in the right direction -- forward.
Today, I received news that my queries about the future have born fruit. I may have missed the Publisher's Clearing House fan, but I got the next best thing: a government grant that will pay my way now that I am volunteering my services and time for Hospice and all the other places where I can, as my professor, Dr. Linda des Jardines, pointed out. Volunteering gives a prospective employer someone who is motivated to train and learn and who will eventually fit into the fabric of their business and lives.
That is all. Disperse.
