Old Decathlon Olympics Journal

Patches In Time - working title

May 5th, 2004

Patches of Time ~~ I guess I will let this be my working title on this little quest of mine. If this reads a little sing-song-ee then I have to ask for your patience and understanding, and I will explain you see. I have been writing a very intense poem for the Writer’s Cramp today. In May 4th entry in this Writing Decathlon Journal I stumbled across a theme that I intend to use. Interestingly enough the prompt for the Writer’s Cramp today made me write a dreary poem that I called, “A Life Reduced to Forty Lines of Poetry”. It is in my portfolio in the folder where I am stashing my daily entries into the Writer’s Cramp. As it turns out, that miserable little forty line poem is almost an outline that I could use for this Patches of Time biography journal entry. I don’t know why I am doing this to myself.

My life has not been one of any notable travels, accomplishments, or successes. I think that it has been a rather ordinary life, filled with ordinary events; there is probably more sadness and anguish than I would hope is actually typical of an ordinary life. I do have one character trait or flaw that I consider outstanding, and that is my will to survive what ever this life throws my way. Too many counselors, social workers, lawyers, and most people that have a clue of what my life has been about has encouraged me to write a book. Then again, I have heard that someone has told everybody that they should write a book at one time or another during the course of his or her existence. So, there again is the contradiction of my own life; typical or not it is the only one that I have lived to date that I can recall. I have no plans to go super spiritual and talk about reincarnation. I just entered this here little Writing Decathlon and I have been told to write what I know. Well, I know my life better than anyone else. I just have to decide the order in which to write it now. So if anyone is reading this and wants to impart any of their views about which order to write my story I would certainly appreciate it.

My earliest memories are like snap shots of unconnected time. I have no memories of my own mother, but I do remember who told me what about her. I hope that if my mother realized that she was dieing that she did not realize how betrayed her children would be by her own family. Evidently she had no long term, close friends. I have memories of the secretary that worked for The Casey Insurance Agency, which is the company that my mother started and owned. My father actually worked for her. I know that I envision that I am like my mother. She must have been strong and brave. I was born in 1953; my father had decided not to stay in the United States Air Force, which I think he ended up regretting the rest of his life. I have been told that my mother owned the house on Bon Air Circle in Jackson, TN. Seems she bought a home before she married my daddy. I don’t think that typical, traditional women in the 1950’s generally did that. I have a handful of pictures of her in hip boots with a string of fish that any man would be proud to bring home today. Therefore in my mind I picture my mother was an avid outdoors type woman; again, another uncommon trait for women in the 1950’s. I was told that my father loved my mother very much and her death basically destroyed him.

I have vivid memories of a maid named Rowhealya. I am not certain about the spelling of her name, all I know is that she was the only woman I remember that took care of us. Daddy didn’t stay home much.

Due to word count limits I am going to stop and pick this up again tomorrow.