7. Jessica

Jessica is my older sister.  If you read my blog regularly, you'll likely have seen my younger sister mentioned a lot.  But Jessica scarcely makes it in.  She reads the blog and once asked if it was because I am embarrassed of her.  I told her no, she and I just don't do a lot together.

I can remember when we were little we had so much fun together!  We played with dinosaurs, blocks, Legos and chess.  (Neither of us are good at chess, but we both knew what all the pieces did, so we played without strategy).  She was super smart, and taught herself to read around age 3.  Once she could read, you'd think she'd read kids books.  Nope, she read the encyclopedia, and the dictionary and any book she could find about animals.  So when we would pretend to be animals, we were often amoeba or paramecium.

 When we were in elementary school she was in special ed.  I never really thought about why.  It didn't occur to me for a long time that she was different.  (And while it did occur to my parents, Jessica was 10 (I think) once she was finally diagnosed with Asperger's).  Though I can remember being on the playground at recess, and kids making fun of her.  Or saying there was a bee on her head so she would fling her hands around and run off screaming.  I am ashamed to say that I didn't speak up, step in, or defend her when the asshole bully kids called her retarded.  That is one of those things that has stuck with me; a time (many times, actually) I had the opportunity to do the right thing, and I did nothing.

Fortunately, my parents found a private school for her starting in 6th grade.  The school was originally in Palo Alto (which was 15 miles from my mom's hospital, or 24 miles from our house).  This was a long commute, especially after my mom had either worked 8-12 hours.  (I'm not sure why my parents decided my mom would always drive her).  After a few years the school moved to Santa Clara, which was pretty close to the hospital and not super far from the house.  Anyway, I thought the school was awesome.  But I've recently found out there were still asshole bully kids there (which seems odd, they're all in the same boat, disability-wise).

I think somewhere in late elementary school we started to be less close.  And once puberty hit her it hit her hard.  It was difficult for her, and my parents.  And I felt like the left out middle kid.  Jessica got attention because of her issues, Rebecca got attention because she was the baby.  I got attention by picking on either or both of them.  And I was jealous that I could go to private school too, not knowing how much private school actually costs.  And my folks were always good with their money, we weren't spoiled, but we didn't want for much either. (Reading all this, it's no wonder my parents got divorced).

My dad always said I had the magical ability to cheer her up when she was sad.  I honestly don't remember doing that, but it seems like something I'd do.

Jessica lives with my mom in Virginia.  (Well, she lives next door.  My mom moved into Glenn's house, so Jessica pretty much has mom's house to her self).  She goes out with her aid/helper/??? a few times a week, and volunteers on an animal helpline.  I feel sad/frustrated that there isn't something more she can do.  Or that where they are doesn't have the services of San Jose.  I think there is a lot she is capable of doing (and enjoying), but there is no one to facilitate it.  My mom is tapped out, and her job coach doesn't do anything.  The other issue is transportation.  That part of Virginia is semi-rural, and has no public transpo.  And Jessica doesn't drive.

Anyway, I feel like I've rambled on a long time.  I wish we were closer, but Asperger's doesn't allow a lot of interpersonal skills,  So we reconnect twice a year (when she comes out here to visit dad, or when I go out there).  Jessica, start a blog, then I know what you're up to. 

6. Young Love

January 2001, 15.5 years ago, I met my husband.  (Actually I met him once, briefly, in 1999).  In a couple years, I'll have known him half of my life.

I was out with my former boyfriend.  (I had dated a few guys, but really only one seriously before Aaron.)  And was introduced to Aaron.  I thought he was so cute, and I actually thought he was Jewish, due to his nose. I had to pursue him.  All the guys I've ever liked, I had to pursue.  The guys who were into me from the start were lameos.

Anyway, I somehow won him over.  I was 17 and he was 19 when we started dating.  10 months later he left on his mission.  (Start miserable time, see yesterday).

I can remember sitting on the curb outside of my house and talking until 2 or 3 in the morning.  We drove out to Utah for LDS conference in the Spring.  We got a motel midway, and spent the night cuddling (we waited til marriage for the rest).  We saw a bunch of movies.  We had stupid fights, and not so stupid fights.  We went to some concerts.  All the typical stuff.  It was a magical period in my life.

Going to my Prom

Sometime before he left.
 (Bad quality, picture of a picture)

We he came back, we came back.

I was thinking about the start of our relationship.  How many people end up with their high school sweetheart?  How many marriages between 22 and 23 year olds last?  I think it's pretty neat that we've been married 11 years.

When discussing the early years of marriage, we both agreed we got married too young.  The first year was especially hard (which is typical) but probably made more rough because we were young.  But we never had any huge fights.  The longest we went without talking was a couple hours.  We fit together well.  And I'm convinced he's one of the only people who would put up with me, long term.  I feel like our relationship is pretty good now.  We are at a good point.  (Which makes me worried that the other shoe will drop).

5. The worst year.

2001 was the worst year.

It was the year my parents split.  My mom and sisters moved to Virginia.  I stayed in California with my dad.  This was after deciding to go to college locally (even though I got into some really good state schools).  I think everyone in my family was surprised that I didn't go with my mom.  Heck, I was surprised.  Up until (and for a while, beyond) that point, I didn't get along with my dad very well.

They left, and soon after I started college.  High school was really easy for me.  I got good grades without much effort, and I never had to study.  It turned out college was not similar.  I was not prepared for the amount of work I needed to do.  And I needed to study, which was something I never learned.

About a month after that, Aaron left on his mission.  (For those who don't know, when Mormons go on missions there is very little communication with home.  Two phone calls a year, and weekly letters.  For two years.)  So, everyone I loved (and who loved me back) left in the span of about 4 months.

It was the worst time in my life.

4. Nanny and Grandpa

Nanny and Grandpa (or sometimes Papa) are my mom's parents.

As I mentioned previously, we would go out to visit them every summer, and occasionally in the winter.  They came out to California a handful of times as well.  Because of the distance we were never as close as they were with the rest of my cousins (who all lived in a 20 mile radius).

(I think about this with Bertie and my mom.  She gets to see him quarterly, which is pretty good, especially for living 3000 miles away.  I have a dream that when she's old, she'll move back and live near me).

I think I'm just going to list miscellaneous memories.  (It's more difficult than I thought it would be to write about relationships in one blog post).

• We would watch Price is Right everyday.  And, for a while, there was a radio station that also had it on.  Which is odd, when I think about it.
• When we drove around we would often listen to a Kenny Rogers cassette.  
• Grandpa smoked all his life (and was likely a factor in his death).  I never liked the smell of cigarette smoke.  But every now and then, I'll get a whiff that must have been his brand.  Smell memories (is that a thing?) are really powerful.
• Nanny always made (and still does) the best tuna salad.  I'm not sure what she does, because I know how she makes it, and still, it never tastes quite right.
• They always had a decent size garden.  I would go out with Grandpa and help him pick corn, green beans, lima beans and tomatoes.  Then we would sit at their big wooden kitchen table and shell them (or pull the ends off the green beans).
• When my cousins came to visit the farm, Grandpa would drive us all around in the back on his pick up truck; out into the woods, to the red clay canyon, the pond, and the abandoned house in the woods.  
• When it was just me and my sisters, he would take us on the pond (I say pond, but it was more like a lake(I just looked it up, it's called Shirley Millpond.)) and we would get in the little boat and go fishing.
• Nanny is a great cook.  She doesn't cook as much anymore, since it's just her most of the time.  
• They had a timeshare in Myrtle Beach for a long time.  We went with them a handful of times and stayed there for a week.  It was wonderful.  Especially when you compare the ocean temperatures between here and there.
• We used to play 500 Rummy quite a bit, then Rumicube. Grandpa would play solitaire a lot too.  I wish I could remember the kind he played.  (Mom, do you know?)
• On the farm, there was a huge clothesline.  I was usually too short to help hang clothes, but I liked running through the sheet and towels drying on the line.

That's all I've got for now.  As usual, I'm sure I'm forgetting a lot.  But it's a start.

3. Random Memory

Once when I was in elementary school my dad came to pick me up from soccer practice.  We crossed the playground as we walked to the car.  My dad said try to do a pull-up.  I hopped up and grabbed the bar, but that was as high off the ground as I went.  My dad walked up and said I'll help you.  As he said that I let go, and landed on his foot, in my cleats.  (It should also be noted I was a fat kid).
He didn't say anything, and I thought he was furious.  As an adult, I realized he was speechless as to not swear.
I asked him about that last year, and he had no memory of it, whatsoever. It's funny the things that stick with you, but don't with someone else.

2. Young years

I was born 20 months after my older sister.  When I was little, you still put babies to sleep on their fronts (which I think caused my love for front sleeping for many years).

I was born in California, but my first memories are from Colorado, where we lived for a couple years in the mid-80s.  On our first day in the new Colorado house, I fell down the stairs.  Tall, wooden stairs.  That is my first memory.

I have a few other spotty memories of Colorado.  Playing in the big backyard, driving around in the old blue Corolla, eating granola in the kitchen.  The most vivid Colorado memory I have in getting stuck in the snow.

Jessica and I were eager to get out in the freshly fallen snow.  Mom dressed us in our snow suits and sent us into the backyard to play.  The snow was fairly deep for a 3 year old, up to my chest.  And after a bit, I was stuck.  I started crying and my mitten fell off.  Either Jessica went for help, or my mom sent my dad to fetch me.

I think went we were young, probably before Rebecca was born, were the times Jessica and I got on best.  She made up all sorts of imaginary games for us to play.

1. Mom

Today is my mom's birthday, so it seems appropriate to start with her.

My mom is awesome.  She is a hard worker, devoted mom, and just an all around giving and caring person.  I feel blessed, as an adult, to still have a wonderful relationship with her.

She spend most of my life working the overnight shift in the ER at O'Connor Hospital, as an RN.  My dad would drop off my sister and me on his way to work early in the morning.  Then she would drive us to school.

Every summer she would fly from California  to Virginia (without my dad) with all us kids in tow.  I still marvel at how she must have done that after traveling with just one toddler!  We would spend the next month on her parent's farm.  It is still one of my favourite places, and I often visit in my mind.  It was a magical place to spend the summer.

My mom was always really open to any question that us kids had.  It was easy to ask her anything we wanted to know, so we were fairly well informed.

After my parent's divorce, she and my sisters moved to Virginia.  And after having a less-than-happy marriage for a long time, she and her neighbour fell in love. It makes me happy when I think about that, because after all she did/put up with she deserves to be happy, and have a guy who really spoils her.

She has always been supportive, and at the same time, allowed me to make my own mistakes, offering advice, but in the end leaving the choice up to me.


I feel like there is more I want to say.  I think this is disjointed.  I was going to write an outline, but ran out of time.