What's over that hill? I want to go see!

I met Carl when I was 20, married when I was 22 when this song came out and he used to always swoop me in his arms and sing it in my ear at that time, little did we know how close to home these lyrics were going to be. I couldn't listen to this song for many years after he died because it's like hearing his voice in my ear again because they had nearly the same singing voice. It still makes my heart jump a bit to hear it.

I got off track here.. forgot I was doing the diary :ROFLMAO::ROFLMAO:
 

carl-me.jpg What was it about this man?
Morals, respect for women, not showing an obvious roaming eye, treating my son with respect and acknowledgement and loving my family.
Simple things that were so meaningful and so important to me. It all came so easy to him, it came from his heart with truth.
He would laugh so hard tears would fall. If he would get angry, he didn't toss blame or accuse, he sat down and discussed it quietly, calmly.
Was he perfect? No, he had a problem he was very upfront with from the start. When life got out of control he would allow his alcoholism to take the pain away, to push things from his mind, to disappear into.
He gave me the key in how to handle this if it arose. Then he said "If you don't want to live with this possible problem, I understand and I will step back. If you want to give it a try, take a chance I will do my best to not make it a problem best I can". As you can tell, I took the chance, after all he gave me the key to understanding it, how to live with it and I saw more good in him than I had seen in any man in a long time. I was not settling, I had fallen in love.
He did have times throughout our life together where the alcohol took over and it was always in times of something out of his hands he could not fix. Something that was keeping him from providing a better future for his family making him feel like a failure or something taking him away from his family for a duration: his job.
dad-work.jpg
 
When Alcohol was a Problem:
Carl could drink an occasional beer and do well. I think it was because when he did that we were usually out and he was dancing. Maybe sweating it out from the physical activity. He was fun, happy and he could clear a dance floor when this song came up on the jukebox and everyone knew it. They would just clear the dance floor for him when it came on. Carl loved to clog dance and I don't mind saying,
he was fantastic at it.
If you know this song you know the speed it picks up and he had his own routine for whole song.
That would make anyone sweat gallons. I wish we had cell phones back then so I could have filmed him.

He worked for an Oil Company and had a steel trap memory for numbers, dates and places. They made him a
National Warehouse Manager to audit, track and travel to set up new ones or solve issues in any. He had to attend business
lunches and dinners where (of course) drinking was involved. The longer he had to be on the road, the more it bothered him.

Then came the scotch, and that was the kicker that got things rolling. He was not a mean drunk, if you let him just get in the door, to the bed and let him sleep till morning. But you stop him as he stumbles in and begin that tongue lashing.. you may see the devil. That was the whole secret. Just wait, let him sober and he will sit and talk...no fuss, no abuse, no words said that shouldn't have been.

The more he was away the more he missed the laid back days of his home state and hated the "Keep Up With The Joneses" lifestyle of California, the fake smiles, the come-ons, the lies. He talked more and more about his days in the woods just him and his dog hunting, fishing
and being himself. It wasn't hard for me to figure this out. He would have killed himself living a life he hated to provide for his family
in this ever demanding environment.

I myself had been watching my beloved childhood area changing to something ugly and scary and had even been dreaming about my
boys growing up in the open country with nature and exploring without being afraid some gang war was going to break out in the park.
We sat down for a talk and it was a no-brainer, Goodbye California!
 

I write this not for pity, nor praise or should have's, I write this as testimony of truth to
remind myself and show others how resilient we truly are when you have faith and love
from your heart.

carl-fishing-creek.jpg

Missouri: We have arrived!
Just watching his face when his feet were planted on Missouri soil spoke volumes.
We began by staying with his Mom and Step-dad until we could find a home. His Mom had a job set up
for him at Brown Shoe where she worked. They called it Piece-time pay. The more you produce over the minimum
per hour, the more your check will be. It didn't take him long to get a rhythm going and increased his production rapidly.
His best friend from childhood gifted him with a 4 year old Black and Tan Coon Hound named Drum. He was in heaven!
We began looking for a house to buy and nothing close was affordable. We finally found one in a town further south. He
had a distance to drive so he applied for a job at the shoe factory there and accepted it when they offered him a job. It wasn't long
until the recession hit and Missouri became Misery for many, including us.
The shoe factories began shutting down and being very rural most jobs were taken by family members of the owners. We hadn't been in Missouri long enough to draw unemployment so we had to apply to California. Being out of state meant a delay in receiving it and
we soon learned how resourceful Carl could be to provide for us.
Our car was repossessed, we lost our home, he couldn't pay his child support until unemployment came in (3 months wait but
would be back paid) and his ex-wife had him over a barrel and took joy out of having him arrested for non-support. we moved to a rental house that should have been condemned. We had each other and we would get past this, What did he do?
He split wood for a neighbor in trade for an old Chevy Pickup. He hunted for squirrel, rabbit, racoon, turkey. He fished and gigged for frogs.
During the late mornings and afternoons he drove the roads for aluminum cans and sold them to the re-cycler for gas and food money.
Sounds like a movie doesn't it? It's true and we survived it. The electric was shut off and we used a camp stove and lantern. We played
UNO, checkers and go fish by lantern at the kitchen table at night with the boys. Our water well luckily, had a crank so we had water.
The night the police came to arrest him for non-support, the officer looked around and saw the camp stove and us by lantern light with kids and he apologized saying he was embarrassed he had to do this and you could tell he truly meant it. He refused to cuff Carl as was standard.
It took so much out of me to make the call to my mom for bail money, I had no other option. And so began the "pack your crap and
come back home". Sounds simple, but it wasn't in me.
It wasn't too much longer and the straw on the back almost did it's job. Oh it gave a damn good try on both of us. It had me on my knees
near breaking but one little voice called to me and asked through the door "Mommy are you crying?"
 
Alcohol once more rears it's ugly head:
Carl's hunting buddy came and took him out one night to put food on the table. Hearing all that had happened
chose unwisely to stop and buy something to take the edge off. By this time Carl was feeling about as much a failure
as was possible and it happened. He came in at sun up loaded beyond anything I had seen.
This is where I lost it and I did the thing he told me never to do; I got in his face and exploded. I too needed release I
guess from all we were going through. All I can remember saying at one point was "If Denny really wanted to help out he
should have bought a loaf of bread and some bologna instead" I probably said harsher things but I have blocked them out.
I was backing up to step on the porch when my heel hit a stone and I fell. I heard years later the boys from inside the window
thought their dad had hit/pushed me and made me fall from their sight advantage. It still bothers me they thought that all this time.
When I got inside I was shaking so bad, mad, scared, trapped, unsure, and felt totally betrayed.
I went into the bathroom and fell down on my knees, crammed a towel in my mouth and screamed and screamed, tears flooding my eyes.
Then I heard the knock and that sweet little voice. "Mommy's ok , I am coming out, I'm ok" I then got mad at myself, straightened up,
washed my face and made breakfast. Vowing to myself to never let my kids see or hear me like that again.
When Carl woke later that day, he was hurting in more ways than a hangover. I waited and then sat quietly listening to him apologizing
for this life he brought me to, this life he had dreams of far better than what he could give me and the offer of being free to return
to California if that would be best for me and the kids.
The worst thing in life for a man like that is to make him believe he is a failure in everything. I could have done that, some said I should have.
I realized our life was not something he planned or manipulated, it was due to outside forces, not his doing. He could have sat back
using our circumstances as an excuse to drink every day and not hunted/fished and drove those forsaken roads for cans. This man was strong,
did his family duty as best he could, who wouldn't crack under this mess?
I wasn't going any place, he was a family man who needed his family beside him and I can say proudly, that man never lied to me or made
me feel worthless or to blame. All I could say in a shaky voice was "We hit bottom, can we begin to climb now?" He laughed and hugged
me so tight.
He did just that and when that back pay came in he filled his gas tank, beat the towns down and landed an actual good paying job.
The next day found us a new home for rent on 1200 acres of which 10 was granted for use with the house. He got me my first horse for my birthday which meant more to me than diamonds or roses. We never became rich or well off but we never struggled like that again.
 
Life goes on for awhile:
He got promoted quickly with his new job and he loved it. He was thriving, happy, grandkids began arriving from his children before
our life. A whole new person appeared when those babies came to visit. He taught the oldest to sound like a bullfrog (real deal) and the
garble of a racoon up a tree. Tears would roll from laughing when his gr-son copied him making sounds.
After a few years went by he complained with lower back pain he contributed from work, So he went to a chiropractor. It helped at first.
Then it happened again, Maverick Tube was closing down and moving to Mexico. Not to be defeated he paired up with a fellow hunter
who worked for an asphalting company and bought the equipment to start one of their own. Carl would do the sales pitch, Man (Uriah)
would get supplies/hire help as needed and together they laid it and did sealing. He was a good salesman and the business took off
at a good pace.
Five months after the medical insurance ran out Carl came out of the bathroom and told me he thought he better see a doctor. He had
blood in his bowel movement. We got him in quickly and after his examination the Doctor had us in his office and said he was admitting
Carl right then for surgery in the morning, he could feel a lump about the size of a cantaloupe, he would have to do a biopsy to know.
I had to come home alone and I don't remember the drive to this day. The boys were still in school yet for the day so I went to our friends
and I lost it and had to let it all out before the boys would see me. Carl was 43, I was 34, our sons were 8 and 11. I could not comprehend
so suddenly all this could mean.

I got home called Carl's kids (he had his oldest son he adopted and 3 they had together all grown) as the doctor suggested and we all met at the hospital later. They all kept a brave face on for him, with each taking a break to step out and process it. His oldest was nice enough to
ask if I was going to be alright driving home alone. They all lived 2-3 hour drive away. We all met again next morning before the surgery.
It was cancer in his colon that had spread to his liver. They were able to get all out but the worst part was his liver had a spot on each side.
If it had been one side they could have removed that section and gotten all of it, So he would need chemo and his prognosis was 6 months.
Of course one has to scream silently "This is not fair, he has been sober all this time, fighting for work to feed his family and he finally has
life going for him, why?????" I am not a saint and my question was not answered, or so I thought.

continued later


dad-brock-cake.jpg dadcookin.jpg
 
That "C" word:

Living with cancer is not easy for anyone. Especially those who have it and those living with it. That silent dark cloud that
sucks the air out of happy results because it can change in an instant when you least expect it.
When he was told he maybe had 6 months, he said "No, not going to happen, I have things I need to get done before
I leave". He took the chemo and surprisingly had better results than they thought. He didn't get sick from it either.
It didn't shrink the cancer but it did stop it from growing, for 4 years.
We had moved from the big farmhouse on 10 acres and had bought a small house on one acre. He had began additions to it
to better suit our family size. Added a larger living room, made the old living room the dining room, added a master bedroom.
Then turned the attic space into a room for one of the sons.
He decided that he wanted to do things for the boys since they had done without so much. He bought them ATV's and an above
ground swimming pool, Then put a good sized deck around half of it. Then on the practical size he bought me a Ford Ranger 4x4
pickup so I could get to work in the winter when he wasn't here to help me.
His Paving and sealing company was doing well. We lived about 50 miles south of St Louis and he would leave before sun up
to drive there, Four days a week doing the jobs, one day a week door to door sales contact for additional work. He wouldn't get
home until after dark. He never asked or expected pity because of his illness, he just enjoyed that he was still living.
During his at home hours it was about the family, BBQ's, pool parties, grandkids and my last birthday with him I was working a
night shift factory job and got home at 11:30pm to see the table on the deck with flowers, candles and my favorite grilled meal
waiting for me. A bottle of my favorite wine cooler and Dr. Pepper for himself. Our favorite songs playing on a tape player softly.
It was after that birthday we got the news. The chemo was no longer working, the cancer was growing. His decline was fast he
went from a healthy 150 lb. strong looking 46 year old to a jaundiced, swollen 102 lb. man looking 90+ years old in 6 months.
He had just turned 47 when he died, our sons were 11, 15, I was 38. He passed at home with all his loved ones with him as he
wished.
I now began to see how his jobs seemed to always take him away for long hours, irregular hours, days away. It was not
coincidence, it was preparation for what was coming for me. So I didn't become dependent on him, I could find my own
strength and ability to raise these boys alone and know how to spend wisely and carry on. I never blamed him for the jobs
he had but I had resented them at times for feeling that I was doing it alone silently, privately.
No one has ever known the whole me, the inner me like Carl had. My husband now comes close but sometimes my
independence frustrates him. As an aware friend of this forum knows, We Virgo's are just made that way, we can't help it.
 
Sliverfox said:
@ IrishEyes,, have spend the afternoon, reading about your life.
You are a strong woman.

Looking forward to reading more about your life.

You have made it clear ,, that no mater what happens in ones life,, gather the strength to go on.
Click to expand...
Thank you Sir, I appreciate it. The last post was emotional so taking a few days to reflect and get back into the mood.
and yes, no excuses, no blame, we all have a choice and it's up to us which choice we make and how we treat others.
💪💪💪☮️
 
My Sons and I:

After the funeral that night I lay awake in bed wondering my direction to take with my 2 sons still at home.
I did not want to spend their teen years fighting, demanding and making us miserable. I didn't want to baby
them either, where was the medium where we all 3 came out of these next 7-8 years sane and still loving each other.
Then out of the mouths of babes came the answer a few days later. My youngest son's friend had an older brother.
A senior in high school who was constantly in trouble. The parents would bail him out every time. He wrecked his own
car drunk driving and his mom gave him hers to use. My son (11 years old) asks "Mom, why does his Mom do that?
He makes her cry and has to get him out of trouble all the time. He's never sorry and even laughs about it. He never
has punishment at all, I don't get it".
I looked at my son and thought, you are not my 5 year old child any longer, you are on your way to becoming a man.
I thought about my older one, the obstinate one, the one I had to nag to do his chores, push to get him do things on time.
I then realized, he is trying to show me he is capable of doing things on his own, it's his dislike of being told what to do
that makes him dig his heals in, to make me as miserable as he is!
I asked them both to have a family sit down, we had a plan to figure out as a family and I needed to know what they
thought. We set the day and time and all sat at the kitchen table.
I began with "I want you both to know I realize you are no longer 5 year old children. You have learned things, know and realize
things and today we come up with new house rules for all of us". Both sets of mouths dropped open. They expected a
lecture not a conversation. Or even a vote. The only comment almost spoken in unison was "You will have rules too???"
I admit, I bust out laughing "Yes! I will have rules too that you both can have a say on, as long as it's realistic and not something
like ; mom has to give Jeff money anytime he asks for it, garbage". "Rules have to fair and equal to all, considerate of all and
agreeable to all, is that fair?" They agreed. A bit perplexed but agreed.

Continued later
 
That's OK Irish eyes,, was sort of 'funning ' with you.

Something about the way you write/ express things,is somewhat like way I think.

Like you I started to write about my life for my grand daughters

I was an only child,, raised by my parents & my beloved grandfather,,on a small farm.
Somewhere on here I have told a few bits about life on the 'farm' , dealing with chickens, cows, goats,, neighbor's pony, & later horses.
 
Sliverfox said:
That's OK Irish eyes,, was sort of 'funning ' with you.

Something about the way you write/ express things,is somewhat like way I think.

Like you I started to write about my life for my grand daughters

I was an only child,, raised by my parents & my beloved grandfather,,on a small farm.
Somewhere on here I have told a few bits about life on the 'farm' , dealing with chickens, cows, goats,, neighbor's pony, & later horses.
Click to expand...
I will have to take the time and look it up, would love to read your thoughts and experiences. I loved it when we had the farm and all the animals. Sure couldn't do it now but so happy I was able to live it while I could appreciate it and watch the boys explore nature freely.
 
palides2021 said:
Thank you so much for sharing your life with us, your ups and downs! It is so precious! Your are a strong, resilient lady. God bless!
Click to expand...
And thank you for taking the time to read it. This is a great outlet to journal something to print out for your family
to remember later. We have so many people from all over the world on SF, this could be helping them realize
all of us Americans don't live the same type lives either. I never thought of myself as strong back then, hindsight teaches
you so much about how and why you became who you are, it's nice to know it does all make sense.
 
IrishEyes,,As an only child growing up in1940s was lonely time.
.Much later in I had met 2 of my cousins from the same family group.

One came from a large family of 6.
I know my folks often visited them,,but I don't remember the kids & I getting together.

My other cousin lives in England & we have met.

We keep in touch by email.

I've suggested that each of us write about growing up.

The one of the 6 has backed off on that.
He did write & publish some stories about his growing up.
Then he stopped,,never said why.

I think my English cousin started to try writing,, about his growing up.
Guess he the thought it was dull?

Now that he facing some down time, health issues ,, I'll mention writing again to past the time.

My idea was to bring our stories all togehter & perhaps publish them.

I'm the only one of the 3 of us who has grand children to past the papers onto,,If we do get them done.
 
Sliverfox said:
IrishEyes,,As an only child growing up in1940s was lonely time.
.Much later in I had met 2 of my cousins from the same family group.

One came from a large family of 6.
I know my folks often visited them,,but I don't remember the kids & I getting together.

My other cousin lives in England & we have met.

We keep in touch by email.

I've suggested that each of us write about growing up.

The one of the 6 has backed off on that.
He did write & publish some stories about his growing up.
Then he stopped,,never said why.

I think my English cousin started to try writing,, about his growing up.
Guess he the thought it was dull?

Now that he facing some down time, health issues ,, I'll mention writing again to past the time.

My idea was to bring our stories all togehter & perhaps publish them.

I'm the only one of the 3 of us who has grand children to past the papers onto,,If we do get them done.
Click to expand...
We do have a lot in common in ways. I met my half sister and a cousin from my Dad's side just 2 years ago for the 1st time.
The cousin is a more adventurous type and into genealogy big time, sister is really reserved and quiet.
I received more info about my Father and the type of person he was from the cousin. She adored him.

My oldest Grand Daughter would be the most likely to treasure these writings, and I am hoping my
youngest one will also. Her being 8 years old, sort of hard to tell right now.

I am 10 years older than my sister and cousin, so it was not like I was a child conceived during his marriage
to sister's mother but I feel a bit of her being pulled between wanting to know me and her mother's pain of hearing
I existed. So I don't push myself on the sister. Cousin is always inviting me up but I don't want to make sister feel
obligated to see me. They live close to each other about 3 hrs away from me. And time ticks on, you understand that.

I feel like in order to get many kids today to be interested in family history we need to make a video game out of it.
Where they fight their way up the history and become the hero :ROFLMAO:

My sister and I at the same age, is there any denying the genes?
I have blue eyes she has brown is only big difference.

Me FB_IMG_1681784022003.jpg My Sister justHolli.jpg
 
IrishEyes you two do look alike!
I think her chin is thinner,, hair style?? were you two sharing a mirror ?

I came online to check everyone,,,,,now my dog wants to play.

We will away for a while ,, so better play with him.
I blew up a balloon & he's got the stem in his mouth carrying it from room to room.
 

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