I concur, life hands us some crazy twists and turns, my hat's off to you Byron for staying focused and doing what had to be done in a difficult situation.
I'm not brave enough to share
all the ups and downs of growing up in the 60 and 70's.
My Dad battled both physical and mental health issues. Had half a lung removed when I was 3, recovered, had periods where depression would keep him in bed for days and then a couple go rounds with cancer and alienation/withdrawal from us and mom.
Mom was our rock, source of endless love, hard work and even bought her own house after they divorced.
The way to get a farm girl from NE Missouri to do something?
Tell her you don't think she can, those heels would dig in and she would prove you wrong.
Dad had an amazing memory and was a talented artist in several mediums. He's the reason we re-settled back in the PNW, he came out a year before us and worked for Boeing helping build the first 747.
He flew back home to Wichita, bought a 1968 Pontiac Catalina station wagon/Tank, loaded us (sister and I plus Mom) for the zig zag journey up the Everett to live in a little trailer.
He passed when I was 18.
Looking back I did a lousy job of picking up on what I should have been doing to be more help for mom.
I did keep cars clean and running, took care of the yard but she worked and did just about everything else.
I still consider myself lucky, my decade older brother Scott stepped in and spent lots of time with me. He probably had more impact on me than Dad in many ways.
Dad and Ralph 1978 after Mom had moved us and herself out of the family home and divorced. He was reliving his youth working on sets and lighting at a local theater and taking writing classes at the community college
Me in the white T and sister next to me, brother Scott and Sister Candy behind us and oldest Brother and sister visiting from Cali- the Catalina station wagon as backdrop
Dad and my granddad visiting from Wichita in 1970
Ma and pa 1972, Picnic point beach, Lynnwood area
