Decor Impressions & More

Hello to you all, I'm new to this blogging arena. My daughter thought it a good idea that I put my thoughts and idea's down. I'm a 50 year old woman, married to an awesome man. I have three children, two girls, both married and a Son, not married. I have two wonderful Son-in-law's, and two of the CUTEST grandchildren ever. I'm entitled to think that way, because I'm a very proud grand-mother. :) I must also confess that I think I have the most wonderful children ever. They all have their priorities in line, and have never disappointed me. They are all Christian's and better people than I think I've ever been. I don't know how that happened, but most certainly, it was divine intervention. I have no other explanation for it, because I have failed them miserably at times as a mother. Although I was raised in a Christian home as well, was baptized when I was 18 years old, and have always had faith in our Lord and Savior. I was raised by two VERY loving parents who were very active in Church. We lived 15 miles from the nearest town. It was a very remote area, a mile off a main hwy. I never thought much about it, because I came from a family of 15 children, with me being the youngest. I have nieces and nephews who are older than I, guess you could say, I grew up with them. We had no T.V., but I certainly never missed it, because we had so many farm animals, and my dad was a farmer, so we all had to pitch in with the chores. We also always had family that would be stopping by. I have so many fond memories of growing up, but I too have fallen victim to the ways of the world. I met my husband when I was merely 14 years old. It was in my rebellious years, and Mom at that time I think was already exhausted of raising children, when she sent me to stay with one of my older sister's near a town that was about half hour away from where I grew up. My sister and her husband were friends with my husband's parents. That's how I met my husband. I guess you could say I was mesmerized by how they lived and how up-to-date, or so to speak, I thought his parents were and he seemed to have his life together. He farmed as well with his Father, and they seemed very well to do. They would attend dances, (which would not have been heard of with my parents), they drank and partied. They owned a store, (were I was hired in the first two weeks of living with my sister), they farmed which I thought at that time was a lot of acres, they freelanced in many other things like baling and hauling bales for other farmers. My husband had his class 1 drivers at that time already. He just absolutely swept me off my feet with the way I thought he had it all. I started drinking right along with him, I started attending dances, and started smoking, but certainly we did get into a lot of tiffs when we'd both been drinking and it led to some not so good memories of that time. (I really don't want to go there). We dated for four years prior to being married. By that time, my parents had built two homes, one which was in Town, which they sold shortly after they built it. The other was in a village near Town. My parents' heart were still very much on the homestead were I had grown up, but because they were coming up in years and couldn't keep up with the big farm, and Dad had been diagnosed a year earlier with a heart murmur during a routine class 1 drivers medical exam. So they resigned to living on a one acre lot in a village. At that time, I was working in another town about 15 minutes away from where we lived. I couldn't get my car started one Winter morning. My Dad had not been feeling well for a few days already, but he said he'd take me to work. Once on the hwy, Dad started to lean in towards the steering wheel, and it looked like he was going to throw up. I told Dad we should turn around and go home. I asked him if I could drive, but Dad being a stubborn farmer just kept going. We were quite a distance from home and I was begging him to turn around, that we should really be going to the hospital. I finally did convince him to turn back home, but I couldn't convince him to stop at the hospital. He didn't let me drive either. I'm not sure why, but maybe he thought it would be to painful to make the switch and maybe he was confident enough in himself that he would see us home safely. Once we got home, I yelled for my Mother to come, that Dad was very sick. She came right away and we helped Dad back inside and helped him lay down on our living room sofa. As time went on, he just kept getting worse. He did finally agree to see the doctor. Once there, they performed an EKG and then the news came that he'd had a minor heart attack, they referred him to a specialist in the City. Of course that appointment didn't happen till spring. He did feel a bit better once they released him from the hospital. He was told to eat only healthy foods. He did comply for a while, but back then, they thought they were living a healthy life style. After all, they were eating whatever God had given them to eat, and it didn't occur to them to cut the fatty tissues off. It had always been included in their diet. Also, it was very hard for my Mother to even cook without adding fat. Well Spring came, and my father did eventually see the Specialist. He then was told that two of his arteries were nearly clogged, they would perform an angio-gram to try and open his arteries. It was July 5th that this was to take place. Mother didn't go with him, he said it was only a little procedure and that he'd be home that evening. Well, as they were performing that procedure, he had a massive coronary. They immediately performed a by-pass surgical procedure on him. When we received the news as a family, it came as a HUGE blow on us all, but praise the Lord, he pulled through. He was in ICU for quite a long time. Eventually, he was transferred to a regular room, and we all had high hopes that he would be OK. We celebrated his 66th birthday in the hospital on July 18th. As time went on, he began to get an infection where his incision was, and his lungs would fill up with fluid. They would drain his lungs without any anesthetic, and they did this a number of times. I remember, it was the day of Lady Diana and Prince Charles' wedding, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong or that something was going to happen, we had had our wedding date set for the 16th of August, then came August 5th, and my worst nightmare was realized. We were called in to the hospital as my Father had suffered another massive coronary. Well, most of the family lived two hours from the City and some even further. My boyfriend then, and I went in to the City with my Sister and her Husband. It was deathly quiet all the way to the City. It seemed to me that there was so many Hearsts on the road that day, and each time I would cringe at the thought. I certainly was not ready to let my Father go, after all, they said he was beginning to do much better and that he would be going home soon. Well, he did go home, but just not the home I was hoping for at the time. He went home to be with his Lord and Savior. What amazes me, is that he was on life support, hooked up to so many tubes and machines. We were each given the opportunity to see him to say our goodbye's. When I went in with my soon to be husband, I told my Father that I loved him. I was holding his hand at the time. They said he was not aware of anything and couldn't hear us, but sure as I sit here today, I know he heard me. He squeezed my hand as if to tell me that he loved me to. Also, he waited for everyone of his children had been in to see him, and it was then that he passed away peacefully. I was only 19 years old when my Father passed away. I was a total wreck and cried uncontrollably, so we pushed up our wedding date to Sept. 13th. The thought was that we didn't have any option to push it up any further because there were so many things ordered. I was in a very bad state of mind after my father died and I would turn to booze, hide it in my closet, and drink till I'd be numb to the pain. I didn't want to think about it nor did I want to deal with it. I was so depressed and just couldn't come to terms that my Father would not be at my wedding. As time passed, I did feel a little better, but the booze was never far away. The closer it got to our Wedding day, thoughts and things to do with preparations would consume my mind more. The day of our Wedding, I woke up around 5 a.m. and started decorating the car that would be our Wedding Wagon, then, the thought of my Dad would flood my mind, and I started drinking to get through the day without breaking down. I can't remember much of our Wedding ceremony. I do however fondly remember our wedding reception. It was held in the back yard were I had grown up. We had music playing, and I got to sing with one of my brothers which I had always enjoyed doing. My husbands sister wore black to our wedding. I don't know how it got back to me, but apparently she felt like she was attending a funeral. Now a days people make nothing of wearing black to weddings and often the bride will chose that to be one of her wedding colors, but back then, it was a color people associated with attending a funeral. It did hurt, but I have never confronted her about it, nor do I hold it against her. I did always feel very inferior and not good enough for his family. I never could seem to connect with them, and always felt like they thought I was but a low life. I did try hard to fit in though. I would make suggestions to do family things together, which was put down. They had never celebrated Thanksgiving, so I wanted to make a Thanksgiving dinner and invite them, which I did, and they did all come, but never had a nice thing to say for that matter, didn't even acknowledge the trouble I had gone through. They didn't stay long either. Christmas' were so very different from my family to his family as well. He just had the one sister, brother-in-law and two nieces and one nephew and until we had children, I would basically sit there and listen to the who did what and who was who thing. In my family, there was so many, maybe to many. You just couldn't catch up with what was going on in everyone's lives. It also seemed the older people got, the more distant the families became. I really wish that in both our families the relationship with each other is what would have been most important. I on the other hand would like to share with you my awesome and precious family, so here are some some of our cherished memories of our family. Thanks for stopping by, and I will start blogging on some of the things I enjoy doing. Till next time, I bid thee ado!