Remembrance

Chapter One

Being pregnant not only does strange things to your body but your mind. My thoughts were all over the map. I kept remembering things about my childhood and growing up in a close family that wasn't exactly like everyone else around me. I mean how many kids have ghost hunters for fathers? With exceptions of my cousins, no one else comes to mind. My mother suggested I write down my thoughts to pass on to my children and I decided that was a good idea since I was on bed rest for the last month of my pregnancy. So I figured I would jot down incidents from my past and the lessons I learned from them.

On my third birthday my Dad was out of town though he had promised to be there so I wasn't a happy little camper and showed my displeasure by throwing a temper tantrum, actually a screaming, kicking, lying on the floor fit, in the middle of my party in front of all my neighborhood friends and cousins. My mother grabbed me off the kitchen floor carried me still kicking into the nearest bathroom while everyone stared dropped mouthed in our direction. She spanked me over her knee soundly several times, as I deserved, but what frightened me most was what she said.

"I will have to tell your father about this."

"No Momma, no," I pleaded.

"I don't lie to your father, Jessica, he has to be told."

"I'll tell him," I volunteered weakly as my attitude changed at the mention of my beloved father.

"She shook her head.

"That's my job, you need to apologize to your guests."

I nodded as I poked out my bottom lip at her, "I hate you," I said.

She only stared at me for a moment.

"That's too bad because I love you," she said before leaving the bathroom as I stood there feeling like the naughty little girl that I was.

That night my Dad came into kiss me when he finally got home from his hunting trip and I pretended to be asleep though I had been crying in my pillow because I could hear my mother crying in the room next door. I knew I had made her sad and I was sad too. I held my breath until he left the room. I had reached "spoiled brat status" by making her cry I felt horrible. I loved my mother because she did fun things with me and Gabe like; taking us to the park, reading to us, and she seemed to enjoy being with us. After my guests left that day she never brought up what happened again to me that was the way she was; once she gave punishment for something it was done. So why had I said that I hated her? I was three it seemed right at the time.

The next morning Dad came into wake me but he wasn't smiling. I sat in his lap with my head down, my dark brown hair curling around my face into my emerald colored eyes. I tucked it behind my hair behind my ear as I looked at my hands on my lap, I knew I was in more trouble.

"Sweet Cakes," he said as he lifted my chin so he could look in my eyes.

"Yes, Daddy."

"If I said I hate you, how would you feel?"

"I would feel sad, Daddy."

"Why would you say that to your Mom?"

"I was bad Daddy, I don't hate Momma, I love her," I said as my lips began to tremble and tears fell down my face.

Daddy held me close to his chest while I got myself under control.

"You know it hurts me if you make Momma sad," he said moving my hair again so he could kiss my tear stained cheek.

"How?" I asked still sniffling.

"Because, Sweet Cakes, I love your Momma and if she feels sad it makes me sad."

"I'm sorry Daddy," I said as he hugged me.

"Go tell your mother, okay," he said as I jumped off his lap to run out of the room.

I found my mother feeding my brother, Gabe, Grubby Gabe I called him, he was almost two and always digging in the yard or bringing in some sort of insect to scare me half to death. He had the funniest little laugh that always made me laugh.

"I'm sorry Momma, I don't hate you," I said with my hands behind my back and eyes down, the proper way to apologize in our household.

But she didn't look up at me she just kept feeding Gabe so I shook her leg.

"Momma, I love you," I said again.

This time she looked up with tears in her eyes, then put the food aside to turn and pull me into her lap for a hug. After a minute we both looked up to find Dad standing there with a smile on his face while he carried a brand new brown teddy bear in one hand and a small key in the other.

He hugged us both before he gave me the gifts. My little car was in the front yard with a big pink bow, it was a little pink car I could drive along the sidewalks of our sparsely populated area.

"You can only ride this out back or if you have an adult watching you, okay?" Dad said as I nodded.

What I learned: That Dads and Moms love you even when you are both embarrassing and rude.

When I was almost four years old, Mary Margaret, Mags, was born I hated her because I could see the way Daddy looked at her was the same way he used to look at me. Since she was taking my place I decided I would leave home. I packed my little pink suitcase, mostly with toys and my sweater, and headed for the front door in the middle of the night around ten p.m. It was late for me. Dad saw me and asked where I was going.

"To Uncle Sam's.

"Why?"

"You and Momma have a new little girl," I said with my head down.

"She's your little sister we hoped you would like her, maybe teach her how to be a good little girl like you," he said as he picked me up.

"No."

"No what?"

"I don't like her."

"Why not?"

"You love her more, I saw that look Daddy the one you used to have when you looked at me," I said as I looked in his eyes finally.

He hugged me to his chest.

"Sweet Cakes, I will always love you, you are our oldest chld, you are special to me and your Mom."

"Really Daddy?"

He nodded. But I was stubborn.

"I want to go to Uncle Sam's."

"Okay well, how about he picks you up in the morning but tonight you can help me take care of the baby this one time since you are leaving.

"Okay," I said certain I had made a good deal.

Mags was kicking around in her crib when we got in the nursery. Daddy picked her up to change her stinky diaper. I held my nose.

"She is stinky, Daddy."

The whole time he was changing her he had his nose scrunched up and keep saying "stinky baby." I thought it was funny since I wasn't fond of her.

We took her to the living room to play with her. I touched her little arms and feet while she kicked around.

"Can I hold her?" I asked as I sat on the sofa.

"Sure."

He showed me how to hold my arms to keep her from falling, then he put her in them while he sat really close beside me. She was wide awake and wiggly as I held her. He watched my face probably looking for a clue that I had changed my mind , I hadn't.

"What do you think?" he asked as he picked her up again.

"Can you call Uncle Sam, now?"

"Sure bring me the phone," he said as he put Mags on his shoulder.

The next morning Daddy came in early to pack my stuff he woke me to tell me to get dressed. I was ready and waiting on my bed when Momma came in the door.

"So you are leaving us?" she asked.

I nodded.

"You know not only are we going to miss you but Gabe will too."

"I know," I said, I would miss the kid.

I started to have second thoughts, then.

"Okay your stuff is all packed, Sweet Cakes," Daddy said as he looked sadly at me but this time I saw that look that said I love you so much. I started to cry and he picked me up and held me.

"You don't have to go," he said in my ear.

I shook my head against his shoulder. Then the doorbell rang so Mom went to answer it. It was Uncle Sam who came to the room with Momma.

"You ready to go?" he asked with a big smile on his face.

I looked from Daddy to him with tears running down my face.

"No," I said as I lay my head on my Dad's shoulder.

Uncle Sam stepped into the room and put his arms out to me to come into them I hesitated a moment but Dad nodded it was okay.

"You know you will get used to your little sister just like you did Grubby Gabe," Uncle Sam teased.

Then we all laughed.

What I learned: When you are four running away isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Now my husband didn't understand my new project he thought it was both morbid and a waste of time. Sometimes I wondered how he and I ever got together in the first place. Well we will get to that.

TBC