The Bicycle

This is another fragmented story.  I have pictures in my mind.  However it is like a jigsaw.  The pieces must fit together but how is unknown.

We lived in Bunker Hill close to Jonestown in a house while I was a toddler. 

I have this photo in my mind of a tricycle or bicycle.  Knowing what age I would have been, it probably was a tricycle.

We had been out and about for the day.  Or maybe we were taking a walk. 

I had decided I didn't want to ride the bicycle anymore.

My father got so angry that he decided was going to sit on it and try to peddle it.  (He was a big man. - 6 foot tall and at least 200 pounds)

I don't think the tricycle was broken.

I sort of remember a car but I don't know how it relates to the story.  I don't think my mom drove.  She may have until a certain point.  

So weird of a memory.  

It just shows you how his anger took over.

Traci

And So It Began . . .

Since I was so young, I can't remember when the actual abuse began.  All I know is that it was somewhere between the ages of 3 and 5.

I spent the summer of being 3 with my grandparents in Ohio.  I don't remember much about the trip.  I've seen photos though.  In those photos, I was a joyful child. 

My grandpa, my great uncle, and myself at about 3 years old

Then it was back to Pennsylvania.  From what I've been told, my father lost his job.  His anger took over.  My stubborn but joyful self was an obstacle he did not like.

It may have been because I had been naughty.  It was the norm for children to be spanked in the late 70's and early 80's.  Okay not the norm but it was common.

Instead of a switch, he used his belt on my butt.  However since he could not see, he ended up hitting my lower back.  I was left with bruises.  

To this day, I don't like people to smack my butt.  It bothers me.

I have back issues.  I don't know if it was because of him smacking me.

Traci

Boxes

Tomorrow I'll begin telling stories of my childhood.  

A lot of these stories are stories that I've heard or fragmented memories.

I describe those memories as "Boxes."

A few weeks before my sister died, I went to a Goo Goo Dolls concert.  At some point after that concert, I got their newest album.  There was one song on the album called "Boxes."

"We'll have tiny boxes for memories

Open them up and we'll set them free

There'll be bad days and some hard times

But I'll keep your secrets, if you keep mine."

During the first weeks of mourning, I would play this song over and over and just cry.  

I can't remember all the memories from my childhood.  Some of the reason is because of my age.  It's also because my mind closed off some of those bad memories.  Although I can't remember all of what happened, there are a few memories from when I was nine that haunt my mind.

During the next blog posts, we are going to open up some of those boxes of memories.  It's going to be a tough read.

Please be gentle when you read those blog posts.

Traci

I'm no longer an only child

On a Sunday afternoon in September 1977, my life changed FOREVER.  My sister was born.  I was no longer an only child.  

There are so many holes in the story of her birth.  The biggest hole in the story is where was I while she was being born.  I've decided that at 28 months old I helped bring her into the world. 🤣

Here is what I know about her birth:

1. My mom went to church that morning.  She did not realize she was in labor.  Tanya was born on the toilet in a hotel room.
2. My paternal grandparents were visiting us.  My paternal grandma called 911.  There was an accident somewhere close by so the operator had to tell her how to aid in the birth.
3. My father had begun to walk home from the hotel.  My paternal grandpa had to go find him to let him know that Tanya was about to be born.
4. I've heard that Tanya was born early but I cannot confirm that.

Here are some photos of Tanya as a baby.

On Monday, I'll start with the story of when my life changed for the worse.

Traci

Baby / Toddler Photos

My grandma had photo books in her living room behind one of her couches in front of the big picture window.  I was not to touch those photo books.  There was an unwritten rule about the touching of those books. 

I knew how she felt about my father so that might have been why I was not to touch them.

So what was in those photo books?

Photos of me when I was a baby. 

I was obsessed with those photo books of me.  When she was gone for a long time, I would pull out those books and just look at the photos.

Maybe that's why I love photos and enjoy taking photos of my two boys.  I did not have the luxury of looking at my photos while I was growing up.

I'm going to share some of the photos of me from when I was a baby/ toddler before my sister was born.

Someone has told me that I was a cute baby.

I was a year old.  My aunt was being installed as Worthy Advisor in her Rainbow Assembly.  I was a year old in this photo.

Traci

The birth of Moi`

I born in May of 1975.

I've got to backtrack though to my mother's seventh month of pregnancy.  

Her only living brother was killed in a work accident.  She and I, in utero, traveled from eastern Pennsylvania to western Ohio via an airplane.  Uncle Bob was buried on my grandma's 47th birthday.  From what I've been told, it really tore my grandma up.

My original due date was suppose to be in late April.  I decided to be born 2 weeks later than expected.

Here are some facts that I know about my birth.

1. I was born in the same county of Hershey, PA hence my love of chocolate.
2. It was a Thursday.
3. One of the nurses was scheduled off at 3 pm but decided to stay until I was born.  I was born at 3:05.
4. The Sunday after my birth was Mother's Day.
5. My father announced at the church that I had been born.
6. I was baptized soon after my birth by my paternal grandpa.
7. If I was a boy, I would have been named Matthew.

Tomorrow I'll share some more photos of me from when I was about a year old.  Then the day after that I'll share my sister's birth.

My life until I was about 3 years old was not too bad.  We didn't have a lot of money but I was loved. Something changed when I was 3.  

Traci

Next Comes Marriage

After my mom left West Virginia Wesleyan, she moved back home.  By the time she left school, she was engaged to my father.  Once again when she was asked about the engagement, she does not remember how or when she got engaged.

They got married in Clairton, PA which is just south of Pittsburgh.  The church where they got married was the church my grandpa was serving in at that time.

She tells the story of how they were watching the parsonage during the winter before they were married.  It was so cold outside and the furnace went out.  The water in the toilet froze.

Their attendants in the wedding party was my two aunts and two other guys from the church.  Mom doesn't even remember their names.  She thinks one was the choir director.

For some reason there was two different rehearsals.  My uncle had to step in for my aunt.

After getting married, they moved to the Harrisburg area. Father had a lunch counter in a department store.  

Mom has told me stories about being stuck in her third floor apartment when Harrisburg was flooded during Hurricane Agnes.  I guess they were in the department store when the rain began.  A British lady kept telling the angels in heaven to stop peeing.

They did not have a lot of money so she started eating Chef Boyadee straight out of the can.

They also lived in Jonestown which is located in the same county as Hershey.

Then almost 4 years after getting married, I was born.

The story will be continued tomorrow.

Traci