1. The Begining

I think that I was always a pretty happy child.  I believed that our family was absolutely perfect, and you know that nothing is perfect.  I loved my dad, he was my favorite.  Everything he liked, I liked.  Everything he wanted to do was what I wanted to do.  My mom was beautiful and I always loved and wanted her beautiful auburn hair.  She almost seemed to float when she was around and I loved her infectious smile.  Second in a family of all girls, I was all girl, from baby dolls to Barbie dolls, tea parties and mud pies and dressing up.  My older sister and I got on really well until she got older and then she didn't really want me around, I was too young, but I didn't really want to play with the little kids.  I was too grown up for them.

We had everything, or it seemed to me we did.  life was grand.  My mother did Tupperware, Princess House and a myriad of other odd jobs that kept her busy, but not too busy.  She wasn't the greatest cook back then, but she got by.  My favorite was brown bread from a can, which she didn't cook, fried potatoes and ham hocks with some sort of beans.  Back then women knew how to sew, and my mom was the best.  We always had the cutest clothes, she had even made matching outfits for my sister and I at one point.  With our ratted up hair and our shoes shined with Vaseline  we looked awesome.  I still have that picture in my mind to this day.  But things change and they did.