Familyships and Friendships

Sometimes I wonder why certain people have come into my life. There have been times when I wondered why one person was put in front of me, or I was put in front of them. I have family friendships and friend friendships, not neccesarrily equal to each other but different. Over the years it has become more and more evident that the only real difference between one "ship" or another is what YOU make of it. Of course, there are some "friend"ships and "family"ships that you cannot control and may not want to be a part of. We will just call those the "ships" or you can subtract the "p", replace it with a "t" and call it what you want. The smallest difference between the two "ships" is that one ship is given and the other one is chosen, however the biggest difference is in knowing whom within those ships are your friends and whom are not. Each person in my life represents a familyship or a friendship, sometimes both. I would possibly need a sailing around the world to tell about them all, but I will only include ones with the best stories and most important to me. I recently heard this quote which is the inspiration for this blog, and was spoken as a toast to Jeff on his 40th birthday by a friendship. His name is Jack, and whether he knows it or not I think he has been put here to "tell" me something. I'm not good at being "told" as most of you may already know, but I'm a sucker for rhymes and good times (ha!ha!) Jack has told this quote before, but I think this time I heard it. It's an old Irish Gaelic Quote (or toast) that goes like this: "There are good ships. There are wood ships. There are ships that sail the sea. But the best ships are friendships, and may they always be."

Ship # 1: Pop Pop

I chose Pop Pop as the first ship because I love him and he deserves this glory. Not that he deserves that love over anyone else, but he is not here anymore because of the reference of ships and his dedication and sacrifice, I would like to start with him. He more than earned his place in the world through working on ships especially during WWII, but I did not know him in that way. I knew him as a Pop Pop- MY Pop Pop. By the time I knew him, he was done with all the experiences that made him who he was. I had no idea what those things were, all I knew was that he was my Pop Pop.
Here is what I know about Pop Pop and how he was when I knew him- O.K. top ten memories, but not in any order, just all good memories to me:

1. His left arm was tanner than his right (from resting it on the window sill while driving) OMG it's hot out there! Does he realize we live in Florida, or is there a bigger reason that he drove around in 90 degree weather with the window open. I never asked.

2. He liked to go to church- Catholic church that is. He used to pick me up for church every Sunday, and of course if any of you know me now I would ask what to wear. Every time Pop Pop would say, "God doesn't care what you are wearing, just as long as you show up." Pop Pop wore jeans everytime, I wore a dress. Apparently I wasn't convinced.

3. Pop Pop taught me Morse Code. I wish I could remember it now, but I do remember being in the laundry room of our house on Matthew St. and having a Morse Code conversation using the HAM radio while others walked in and out of that room having no idea what we were coding to each other. Not that what we were saying mattered much, it was just cool to know a secret language.

4. He loved to make soft boiled eggs, mix them up, and dip his toast in him. He would make one bowl for himself, and one bowl for me. I must have loved him alot because to this day if you put that in front of me I would san YUUUUCK! Of course, this was when we lived in NJ (too young to know better) and I most definately did not know what I was doing.


5. He loved to play Gin Rummy. I don't know if I ever won, but I do remember asking him to play "Go Fish" instead.

6. He did not always get along with Bah. She hated his HAM radio room, he hated all her "STUFF". I think there was a time when she loaded all her stuff into his HAM room. I'm not sure but I do remember thinking "live and let live."

7. If push came to shove I would take Pop Pop's side as apposed to Bah's. Not that you should take sides when it comes to family, but he spent time with me at that point and she didn't. It wasn't until he died that I really had a relationship with her. (sadly)

8. Pop Pop played some really good piano and organ. He would always play at our house and had a really good time. I think he was truly at home with music. Not a surprise for this family.

9. He loved his dog. He would do anything for his dog "Littleguy". Pop Pop may have been the reason that Littleguy was so overweight-feeding him at the table everytime. When Littleguy died, my mom had to go and help remove him. Pop Pop was in tears. He loved his dog. I wondered why he loved that dog so much. Maybe they had a friendship, maybe it was because the dog didn't talk back?

10. Pop Pop liked certain kinds of PJ's. At lease I was told he did. I was 21 and dealing with my own life at that time. I really didn't even know what he would have liked at that time if my parents and Bah hadn't told me. The last time I saw him was the day after Christmas to bring him his special PJ's. I remember looking at his face peaking out of his room as I left the nursing home. I wish I had spent more time with him.

Perspective

As an adult I am constantly battling between which way is right, or which way is wrong. You know- the devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other. Most often, now, I choose the way that other people would view as the "right" way. Oh, but there was a time when I probably- on purpose- chose the "wrong" way, however that depends on your perspective. These times I will tell about didn't feel very wrong at the time, at least from my perspective. We were just kids being kids. Lord knows these days we would be in Juvenile Hall for such actions. I actually write referalls for this kind of stuff and some kids even get suspended. I'm just glad I got it out of my system while still in elementary school. I would have been expelled for such behavior in middle or high school. Some of you have no doubt already heard this story, or were there when it happened. Nevertheless, here is my first memory my own perspective of wrong vs. right.
There was this girl, whom I cannot remember her name, but ooohh! do I remember her face!
She was little, a slight little thing with short blonde hair done it a "twiggy" style. I'm sure you all know who Twiggy is from the 1970's. Anyway, she didn't like me for whatever reason, and if you don't like me then why would I waste my time or emotions liking you? (I was 5, what the hell did I know) She would call me names- fatty, blimp, fat albert- whatever name she decided on for that day.
As you can guess, this did not sit well with me. I had decided (on more than one occasion) that she should "pay the piper"- if you haven't guessed yet this is the part where I went a teeny bit wrong, again "perspective." Keep in mind that on the many, many, many, occasions that she was mean to me I excercized GREAT restraint and did nothing more than go home and complain or cry about it. However as most kids learn early on, that usually does nothing to solve the problem and therefore, I, as many kids before me had learned had decided to take matters into my own hands (this is where I went probably REALLY wrong)-again perspective.
One day outside our building, all the way down to the right "Twiggy" and I were having words. What kind of words we had as 5 year olds you could only imagine, "stupid" and "ugly" come to mind. We may have even said the "sh" word-you know "shut up." Anyway, I had had enough of her mindless, beligerant, as well as redundant antics. I mean how many times and how many ways are you going to tell me that you think I'm fat. I know it, you know it, we all know it, but "shut up" already (I bet I was the one who said it first).
Well the one thing a fat 5 year old, bigger than the rest of her peers girl, has on her side is muscle! She could take me down with her words, of which I had no shortage of either, but what's the fastest way to get little "twiggy" to "shut up?" Well, a quick blow to the stomach by way of my fist I say! And that is just what I did- it felt good for all of 5 seconds, and then I ran home to hide in the bathroom. I should have listened to the angel on my shoulder telling me to bite my tongue once again, but I couldn't hear her over the sounds of "twiggy" and I shouting at each other.
The next thing I know I hear crying, only to peak out the window and see "twiggy" being carried in the arms of her mother- it now reminds me of the scene from Forrest Gump where he is carrying his friends out of the jungle one by one. How pathetic she looked- and desperate. I mean, come on! I didn't hit her that hard! That little cry baby tattle tale was REALLY milking this one! Doesn't she know that crying and whining doesn't work? Oh, wait a minute, it works for her now doesn't it?
Well I'll take my punishment like a man any day over being treated like someone who can't defend herself- (or has to be carried down the sidewalk by her mother like she has been injured in battle- YUCK!) I actually remember rolling my eyes while looking out the window that day all the while knowing the music I would face. What does that say about me? I don't know, I guess that depends on your perspective.

In Response

This blog "spot" is created by me in order to respond to two bloggers in particular on this network. I feel that my comments in response to these blogs are better served if blogged themselves. It's possible that I am "blog ignorant", but sometimes there is more to be said than can be said in a comment. Therefore, here comes a new blogger. Hey, it takes a blog to know a blog, or so they say. In case you are wondering, I am following "Divorced in the City of Angels", and " Born on the Crest Of a Wave."- hence the caught in the middle "again." The first time, I was caught between 2 sisters-not that it was a bad thing, but I think the title deserves an explanation. It's pretty open ended and don't like to leave things that way. Thanks to Candace and Dad for getting me started, (knowingly or unknowingly they may be sorry later). I'm not sure where this is going, but here goes! We'll start with childhood memories when I return. Not sure where to start first, I guess I'm just "Caught In The Middle" between 2 thoughts this time.