My Family: Your Average Family With A Few Twists!

I was born over 30 years ago. I grew up in a two parent home, with two sisters and two brothers.  They are the people who shaped my life and made me who I am today.

They encourage me to pursue my dreams.  They pick me up when I fall.  They support me when I need them.  They let me know that they care.  I enjoy each and every one of them.

I have lost a few members of my family recently.  I miss them very much.  But, I know they are smiling as I pursue my love of writing, my love of scrapbooking, and the ever elusive college degree!

Time is to short to hold grudges.  If you have differences with your family or just don't keep in touch-- write a letter, send an email.  Just a quick hello.  Love each other.  Forgive each other.  That is what families do!

I love my family and am thankful for each and everyone of them. 

I would love to introduce you to all of my family. However, I do not believe in posting my children or anyone else's on the internet.  So, that is why you never see photos of my kids, nieces or nephews.  On rare occasions I may post a baby photo of my kids with family but no current photos. I hope you respect me for this.  Children are our future and I believe in keeping them safe at all costs!

I Am Proud To Say I Am Alot Like My Dad!

My Dad....My friend..My Protector...My Nemisiss....My Hero.

I don't really know where to begin when it comes to talking about my dad.  He was a remarkable man.

My dad had a daily ritual that I myself practice today.  He would get out his bible and read his "Daily Bread" devotions every morning before he went to work.  I can't remember one day that he didn't do this.

He also served in the military.  He was in the Navy.  He was a radio operator during the Korean War.  I thought this was so cool.

He loved tinkering around in his garage.  He loved tinkering around really anywhere, but the garage was his haven.  He could get lost in whatever he was doing without being interrupted.

He used to wear these shoes that our family called "Willie Shoes."  Anyone who knew my dad at anytime in his life knows the shoes I am referring to.  They were slip on shoes and he had multiple pairs.

Then there were the famous boxer shorts.  Our shower was in the basement and when he would come upstairs he would be singing a silly song wearing his boxer shorts.  It didn't matter if the front door was wide open or the neighbors were visiting.  That was just my dad!

My dad loved music.  I definitely took on this trait.  He listened to Billy Joel, John Denver, Ronnie Milsap, The Statler Brothers, Bobby Darin, and my personal favorite Roger Miller.  Of course, he listened to other things, but those are just some I can remember.

Breaking into song at any moment was a common thing my dad would do.  It didn't matter if it was in the middle of dinner.  If someone said something that reminded him of a song, he would start singing!  And, if it wasn't a song already written, he would come up with his own little jingle!

He could be serious though, too.  When he would get mad he would grit his teeth and got this look on his face.  If you got this look you knew you were in trouble!

My dad loved movies too.  He and I went to every Rocky, Star Trek, and Star Wars movie that came out.  I couldn't wait.  There was just something so cool about going out with my dad!

When I got married my dad walked me down the aisle.  Of course, as we were walking he told me he know a way to get out of the church, and no one would catch us.  I could change my mind.  Was it because he didn't like my husband to be?  No, it was his way of making me laugh, because I was so nervous.

When I was pregnant with my son I was broadsided by a drunk driver.  I was injured and I was scared.  My dad was driving by and recognized my car.  When he walked up to the car he was wearing a white coat.  I thought for sure I was dead and he was an angel coming to get me.  He and my mom took care of me after the accident. 

I gave my dad alot of grief over the years.  I was a stubborn little thing.  I hurt his feelings and I made him very angry at times.  Not to mention the disappointment I know he felt at some of the poor choices I made.  But, my dad was a loving and forgiving man.  Thank God, because with me, he had to do alot of both.

But I am proud to say that I am alot like my dad and I wouldn't want it any other way.  He was stubborn.  He had a mind of his own.  But, he was funny and liked to make people laugh.  I was so lucky that he was my dad and I was proud to call him my dad.

Everything I Learned, I Learned From My Mother!

My Mom.  My Friend.  My Confidant.  So many words could describe her.

I didn't appreciate my mom when I was growing up.  I was stubborn.  To be honest, I was a brat.  I thought I knew everything!  Boy, was I wrong!  I definitely never understood what a struggle it was to raise me until I began raising my own daughter.

Scared?  Not my mom.  She braved the rollercoaster at Marineland for me! 

Understanding?  When I stole the baby Jesus out of the manger during the Christmas play at church, she didn't even flinch!

Fun?  Wearing googly glasses she managed to have a party with her sunday school class at the park that I would never forget!  Even has the pictures to prove it!

Silly?  Well if you would call dressing up as a clown for clown day and going to my first grade class, silly.  She even wore the nose and had red hair!

I am glad I got the opportunity to really get to know my mom.  I would have missed out on knowing such an important person in my life.   She is my rock!  She has more strength in her than I have in my pinky finger.
 
I love talking with my mom.  I am not afraid to tell her anything.  And, even if she doesn't like what she is hearing, she lets me finish.  Sometimes she just says, "Oh Vanessa."  But most of the time, she tells me how proud she is.

I never thought my mom would be cool.  But, as she has gotten older something has happened!  She actually acts younger!  She is funny too!  She cracks me up.  She has a great sense of humor!  I suppose this is necessary as life seems to throw her curve balls often.  But, she doesn't complain.  She just goes with the flow!

I love shopping with my mom too.  We always find something that we both like.  If you would have told me that this was going to happen I would have laughed!

I collect things like my mom did when I was a kid.  She collected pigs.  Winifred.  Wilheminia.  Winston..the list went on and on.  But, I really have no room to talk. When I was first married I had a Mickey Mouse kitchen.  Black, White and Red.  And that rat was everywhere!  Yep, learned that from my mom!

I learned so much from my mom.  Of course, because I was so stubborn, some lessons had to be taught over and over.  But she never gave up on me.  She just waited until I was ready.

God was always the center of her life.  She took me to church.  She was involved in all of the activities.  She read her bible, and was truly an example.

She encouraged me to play the piano.  She took me to guild.  She got me the best piano teacher in town.

She encouraged me to write.  She loves to read my writings when I post them.  And, she always tells me how she knew I was good at writing.

When I started my scrapbooking business, she was on board!  She began learning to scrapbook and I found out that I must have gotten my creativity from her.  And, she loves to show everyone the scrapbooks I have made her.  That makes me feel good.

She taught me that when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.  She taught me right from wrong, although sometimes I was too stubborn to listen. 

But most importantly, she taught me to love.  She taught me to forgive.  She taught me to do my best.  And, when I did screw up, which believe me, I did, she would help me get up and dust myself off.  

I love my mom and I am so glad that God picked her to play that role in my life.  I don't know what I would have turned out like if she hadn't been there.  I want to be just like her when I grow up!

Events That Shape Our Lives: Visiting Grandma and Grandpa

I loved visiting my grandparents in West Virginia.  My grandma said I used to cry "Alligator Tears" when it was time to go home.

Even the trip from Michigan was fun.  My brother and I would play the license plate game.  We would try and find as many of the 50 states that we could.  This was a ritual everytime we went to visit them.  My Dad would be listening to his 8-tracks and we would sing along.  A little John Denver.  A little Neil Diamond.  A little Beach Boys.  It didn't matter. 

We would pull onto the road going to their house and my heart would jump!  It didn't matter if it was the middle of the night or the morning.  When the car stopped I would jump out!  Everyone knew there were cookies waiting!

We went to church.  We went fishing at Trout Pond.  We went to Cass Railroad.  We went to Seneca Caverns.  We worked on the flowers.  We went to JP's to buy Hubba Bubbha Bubble Gum.  We split beans.  We canned pickles.  We visited family.  We played with some of the kids from church.   We watched Nascar Racing.  After church we would look for deer.  Mostly, we just spent time together, ending every night with a prayer before we went to bed.

Then there was the Wheel Horse!  I used to love it when my grandpa would mow the grass.  They had a huge amount of property and he would let me ride with him while he mowed!  Every kid who came to visit had at least one ride on that thing!  Even my kids had the experience. 

And, my grandma's cooking!  Homemade everything!  Vegetables right from their garden.  Meat from my Uncle's farm.  Lunchmeat from Hazel's.  Potato Pancakes.  Vegetable Soup.  Macaroni and Cheese.  Peach Cobbler.  Blackberry Cobbler.  Church Window Cookies.  There was no substitute!  My grandma definitely knew her way around the kitchen! 

I don't really know what it was about my grandpa and grandma's house, but I loved it.  It was never just one thing.  I loved it all!  People came over just to visit.  No one was in a rush to get anywhere, because it took forever to get to the nearest store.  Family was important.  Spending time together was important.  God was at the center of it all. Things weren't as important as people were.  Sometimes I wish I could have that time back.  The hustle and bustle of city living can be draining.

My Sister: My Best Friend

My sister got married when I was about 12 years old.  I balled like a baby.  As far as I was concerned, my sister was leaving me!  Don't get me wrong.  I loved my brother in law, but he didn't have to take my sister away!

Growing up I imitated her every move.  She was a secretary.  I wanted to be one.  She listened to Rick Springfield.  I still listen to him.  She wore high heel sandals.  I went in her closet and wore them too.  She played the piano.  I played the piano. 

Then I became a teenager.  Not my best years.  To say I was stubborn would be kind.  Did I hurt her?  Countless times, I am ashamed to say.  But, she never stopped loving me.  She just waited for me to come to my senses.  And, she waited a long time.

When I had my son, I hadn't finished high school and wasn't married.  Needless to say it wasn't the ideal situation.  She and her husband were ministers.  Did they judge me?  Nope.  Was she happy with the situation?  I am sure she would have liked it to be different.  Who wouldn't?   But, she supported me in any way she could.  In fact, she was waiting for me when I brought my son home from the hospital.

During the next few years I was headed down a path that could only lead to disaster.  I was self destructing.  But, she didn't scold me.  She didn't disown me.  She encouraged me to change things.  When I felt like I had past the point of no return and gave up, she didn't turn her back on me.  And believe me; it would have been less heartbreaking for her if she had.

A few years later, I told her I had met someone and was getting married.  She and my brother in law came in from Tennessee to meet my husband.  It was important to me that they approved.  I had been married previously and my family hadn't been a part of it.  I wanted this to be different.  They not only approved, they ended up marrying us.

When it came to the wedding I just wanted a little church.  No big deal.  Just as long as my family was there, I was happy.  My sister made the ceremony perfect for me.  I may not have thought I deserved a wedding with all the trimmings, but she made sure that was what I got.  She even surprised me with a song called "You Are A Masterpiece."  I had hurt my parents so many times over the years.  This song healed all wounds and discharged the guilt.  Necessary?  No.  But, it was just another way for my sister to tell me I was special.  Yes, I had screwed up.  But, I was still loved.

A few months before I had my daughter, she became ill.  We had planned on her coming to help out, but she was unable to.  But that didn't stop her from seeing her niece.  She flew in for Christmas and they cuddled together.  It is a moment I will never forget. 

I absolutely hate flying.  I get sick.  I have panic attacks.  Every time I get on a plane there is some sort of delay.  And of course, it is usually after I am on the plane.  Some have been hours.  But, seeing my sister is important to me.  So, I suck it up and try to be as patient as she has been with me.  After all, she is worth it.

A few years ago, I got sick.  It was a very bad situation.  I was a mess.  At times I wasn't myself.  I was hard to deal with.  But, that didn't stop her from helping.  She has always been by my side when I need her.   And, considering she hasn't been well for almost 12 years I would say that is quite a sister!  There have been times when she shouldn't have been with me because she wasn't well, but that has never stopped her.

Although my sister is ten years older than me, we have no problem relating to one another.  We like the same things and we think the same.  We have even picked the same furniture without knowing it.  She usually knows what I am thinking before I even open my mouth.  I never have to explain how I am feeling or justify myself with her, because she understands.

If I am hurt.  I call her.  If I am angry.  I call her.  If I am struggling with a decision.  I call her.  She only wants what is best for me and I trust her.  She has always been there for me and I tell her everything.  Even some things she didn't want to hear.  I don't think I could tell her anything that would surprise her.  She knows when something is wrong just by the sound of my voice.

Do I always do things the way she would?  No.  But that doesn't matter.  She loves me for me.  Even when I make mistakes.  Even if I speak before thinking.

I wish we lived closer so I could see her more often, but even the distance doesn't change our relationship.  We are more than sisters.  She is my best friend, the godmother of both of my children and no matter what happens in life I know that will never change.

Little Sisters: Made Of Sweet And Spice And Everything Nice?

Little sisters torment their big brothers.  If that is the case, then I can proudly say, without a doubt, that I did my job!

It wasn't that I didn't love my brother.  It was just fun to torment him.  And, don't think that he didn't torment me too.  Turn about was fair play!  Besides, it kept life interesting!

I wont go into detail, as some operations were covert.  But, I can honestly say that no one ever ended up in the Emergency Room. 

My brother was the best.  I only tormented him because I liked him.

Fun?  I thought he was.  I had fun hanging out with him.  I could gather intelligence to use it against him later!  Fun for him?  Not always.  Especially when his friends were around.  But he tolerated me, most of the time.  And his friends knew how to get rid of me.  They would threaten to throw me in the fish tank. 

My protector?  I felt so brave and not to mention, cool, when he was around.  He was with me when I rode the school bus for the first time!  If anyone picked on me at school,  I just told them my big brother would beat them up.  That scared away anyone who wanted to mess with me.

Cool?  I thought so.  When he got his Mustang, I thought he was too cool!  Even when he drove the "Slash Wagon" he was still cool, because he could drive!

Smart?  Oh boy, was he!  I swear, he knew everything.  Of course, I wanted to show him that I knew a few things too.  And what I knew was important! Maybe not to him, but I didn't care.

Brave?  He did things I never had the courage to do.  He rode on four wheelers, he went on trips to Colorado....He would pretty much try anything.  I was always so scared of adventure.  But not my big brother!  And he has scars to prove it!

When I was about seven years old, my brother was hit by a car.  I will never forget that day.  He was hurt badly and it was scary.  I told God that if he would bring my brother home from the hospital, I would never torment him again.  Of course, once he got better the game was on!

Now we are grown and we have matured....yeah sure.  When my son first told me that I worked at Kmart, or the Soup Kitchen....I knew who he had been talking to.  We didn't need to torment each other anymore, we had our kids to do our dirty work!

Of course, we still torment each other a little, but we are better allies.  He still gets that grin on his face every once in awhile and it takes me back to my childhood.  I always know that something rich is going to come out of his mouth when it appears.

I am sure if you met my brother and asked him to describe me as a kid, he would say I was a firecracker!  And, I have to admit, I was. However, when I was married he stood up in my wedding.  When I had my son, he was right there to help.  When I was sick, he was there.  When my grief seemed too much to bear, he helped me carry the burden. 

We don't always see eye to eye.  But, who does?  And, I didn't always do things the way he might have.  I made mistakes.  But, he was always there to help me dust myself off when I fell.  That is my big brother!

Older Sisters: Wise and Wonderful!

Being the baby of the family all of my siblings are older than me.  Both of my sisters have played a crucial part in my life.  I love both of them and value their opinions.

My older sister, Brenda has grown up to be a mother and now a grandmother.  She loves kids and is great at both of these things. 

She is down to earth.  She is funny.  She is caring.  She is helpful.  She is smart.  She is resourceful.  She is protective.  She is....well I could go on and on.

She and my brother in law were married when I was very young.  I have been told that I cried when they got married.  I wanted to live with my big sister.  After all, that is where I was supposed to be.  I had lived with her my entire life.

I loved playing at their house.  Especially after they had their daughters.  We would play barbies for hours.  Yes, I played barbies.  We pretty much loved doing anything together as kids.

We went to Sea World one year too.  That was so much fun!  After that we went to see my grandparents in West Virginia.  I loved spending time with my sister and her family.

As I grew up I realized that my sister was pretty remarkable.  She raised two kids, worked, was active in her community and loved her family.  I have always hoped to do half as well as she has.  But she is superwoman and those are hard shoes to fill!

When my dad died she and my brother in law were so supportive.  We had some issues that were lingering in our relationship and all that was put aside.  We leaned on each other during this time and I was grateful that they were there for me.

I haven't always been the best sister.  I have made mistakes.  But, I love my sister and would do anything for her.  We are family and that is what family does, right?

Family.......

Family....What Does that mean to you?

A tough question to answer at times, no doubt.

I have two families.  The family I was born into and the family I became a part of 12 years ago.  Each is unique in it's own way.

However, in this writing, I am not going to single one family out.I feel loved, appreciated and secure in my family.

Which one, you ask?  BOTH!

Those of you who know me know that there have been ups and downs in my life.  There have been times where I haven't spoken to certain members of my family. No matter if it was because of something I did (which I am not perfect and do not claim to be) or because of circumstances beyond my control...things have happened.

But, over the years I have learned one very important thing.Even when there is turmoil in my family....I still feel loved, secure and appreciated!

How, you ask?  Because even in those times, I am still the same person.

I still love my family.  I would still do anything for them if they asked.  Just because there is a problem and there is chaos, doesn't mean that I have changed.  All I can do is just be myself and eventually they will see that.  And, if being myself means that someone doesn't want to be a part of my life...well...that is their choice and not mine.

Does it mean I don't love them?  Never.

Dwelling on the past and rehashing ever little thing that someone has said or done to you only leads to many things....loneliness, inablilty to trust, sadness, anger and anxiety....need I go on?  And the sad part is....the person holding on to these things is the one that suffers....No thank you.

So where am I going with this?  Forgiveness.  Yes, that is a big word....but also a HUGE action.  Is it harder to forgive than to stew?  Absolutely.

But...the freedom you get from doing it is incredible.  And, who knows...you may end up becoming very good friends with someone you never thought you would.  That's not a guarantee...but it can happen.

Now, I am writing this about one person...myself....and for the benefit of myself...When things crop up and I start getting angry...instead of stewing...I write....So this is addressed to me...It's not a lecture...It is my thoughts as I try to forgive...once again...and yes...you may to forgive multiple times...This should not be so hard to believe...

Have you ever repeated a mistake in life?  So do others...I know I have made plenty of mistakes...and repeated them...and require forgiveness multiple times...

So, to end...I love my family...Both of my families...I should say...Each and EVERY member in BOTH families...No matter what happens....

What do they mean to me?  THE WORLD!

God Bless,

Vanessa

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Vanessa

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Vanessa Calleja is a freelance writer specializing in scrapbooking, pets, family relationships, & health and wellness topics.

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