I am my own Grandpa......The house with so many memories!

Our family home was a modest home located off of Edgewater Drive in Orlando. We lived on a dirt road where houses were far apart, as most of us had rather large yards. Most of the families had lived there for quite some time and everyone knew who everyone was. Back then, the neighbors watched out for each other’s children and if you did anything wrong, your parents heard about it.

My best friend, Faye, lived halfway down the road and we would spend our afternoons walking to and from each other’s house. The Freelove's were a large family and they treated me as one of their own, the same way that my family treated her as one of their own. Her family was Jehovah Witness, so she celebrated holidays with us as she loved the gatherings that we had. My mother would bake her birthday cakes and she loved that because they did not celebrate birthdays at her house. It has been over 40 years and we still keep in touch. We have shared both pain and happiness over the years.

Another family that we grew up with was the Robertson’s. Their backyard was located on our street, as they owned and operated a dry cleaning plant located on Edgewater Drive called Connie’s Cleaners. The father, Connie, built the building and made it so the family could live upstairs. He and his wife, Marie, operated the cleaner’s during the day and lived upstairs after the workday was over. My sister, Brenda, married into their family when she married David. They were high school sweethearts and after finding out that she was pregnant, they were told that they needed to “do the right thing” and get married. Because they were under age, we drove to Georgia to a Justice of the Peace.

My mother, father and my brother, Ronnie and I accompanied them. I was little and did not realize that it was not your “normal” wedding. It seemed happy to me, after all, they had been dating and I liked David a lot. It made them grow up fast…… They rented a small place and David took a job so that he could raise his family. Before long, Cynthia Marie Robertson arrived into this world. And even though she was not a “planned” baby, she was the light of all our lives. After all, she was the first grandchild for my family.
My mother had become friends with Marie Robertson, and our family kind of meshed with theirs. I did not know it at the time, but Marie was an abused woman as well. So, her and my mother had a lot in common. Their youngest daughter, Shirley was my age and we became very good playmates. Shirley and I went to the first year of school together before her mother passed away and the Robertson family sold the dry cleaners and moved to New Smyrna. We still kept in touch and saw each other on weekends, summers and during the holidays. Gary, their other son, was a senior in high school. Because he wanted to graduate with his class, he moved in with David and Brenda. On the weekends he would go to New Smyrna. As a matter of fact, we all spent a lot of weekends there because the house was on Spruce Creek and we like to go fishing.


My other sister, Linda finished school, but, she too ended up getting pregnant. Times were a little better for my family then and she was given a small wedding and reception.
I was so excited at her wedding. She was marrying Eddie McDowell. While they were dating, I always thought that he was so cool. He drove a purple 57 Chevy and was always fun to be with as he was a big kid himself. As it turned out, both my sister and my mother were pregnant at the same time and both delivered baby boys just four days apart. My sister had Greg and mama had Glen.

Both of my sisters marriages lasted for over 16 years and each of them had 1 more baby before their divorces. Brenda had another girl, Connie and Linda had another boy, Shannon.

As for me, I ended up dating, Gary Robertson. I, too, ended up pregnant, but decided not to get married right away because I wanted to finish school. Thank God, my mother and step father agreed to let me have the baby and live with them while attending school. Looking back on it, it is funny, because growing up with him; I never dreamt that I would end up being his wife. After all, he was 10 years older than me.

My mother once told me that she thought Gary liked me because one time we were all at a Halloween party given by my sister. I went to the party as someone else's date. Gary was there solo and my mother said that she saw the way Gary kept looking at me. She knew before either he or I knew. I told her that she was crazy and besides he already had a girlfriend. In fact, they later became engaged and I often would ride with them to New Smyrna. And don’t forget, at that time, his brother was married to my sister. As it turned out, Alice and Gary broke off the engagement and he dated a few more women, before coming to his senses where he finally realized that I was the girl for him. I still remember the night that he called me for our first date. He said that he had just got back into town and was going out to get something to eat and wondered if I would like to go with him. I told him that I had already eaten. I thought that my mother was going to punch me! When I got off the phone, she said that I could have at least gone and gotten dessert. Playing hard to get must have gotten to him because the next day, he called to see if I wanted to go to the movies…. And that my friend is how it began.

Now 32 years later, we are still married and have 2 great boys, Michael and Mitch and 2 beautiful daughters in laws, Joanne and Amy and 3 wonderful grandchildren, Mason, Rylee and Haylee. The funny thing was, my mother loved Gary while we were dating, but, the minute we announced that we were getting married, she did not like him anymore. I really think that it was because she was not only losing me, she was losing Michael as well! You see, when I was pregnant with Michael, my mother was also pregnant. She ended up losing that baby as she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. For that reason, when he was born he really was "our" baby. Thankfully, although Gary and my mother didn't love one another, they put up with each other for my sake. Crazy, how things work out!


So, in my defense about being my own grandpa…… even though I grew up with him and his brother was married to my sister; there is no blood relation between us. But, think about the blood line of our children, could their blood match? Hmm… it is something to think about.

Lost in the split..... My brother, Ronnie

While growing up with my brother, Ronnie, we were typical siblings. We fought like crazy, but would fight to the death to protect one another. And although he would get into normal boy mischief, he was a good kid. When I say normal boy mischief, I mean getting into trouble for not listening to my mother or father, or not doing his chores, etc.

Looking back, I think that the worst thing that he ever did was when he stole a pack of cigarettes from my father’s carton. Then, one night while our parents were away, he brought it out and together we took one cigarette out of the pack and lit it up. We really did not know how to inhale, but, together we “smoked” it and then hid the rest of the pack, behind the refrigerator.

Well, wouldn’t you know that over the weekend, my mother decided that it was time to clean under the refrigerator? Low and behold, when she pulled it out, the pack of cigarettes with one missing, fell down. She started screaming for us to get into the kitchen and when we admitted to her that we had smoked the one that was missing, we were in trouble. My mother grabbed the flyswatter and spanked us both.

And let me just say that if you have never been swatted with a flyswatter before, count yourself lucky. It hurts!

That was all it took for me, I never tried it again. As for Ronnie, he did it again and this time my father caught him and made him eat some cigarettes.

That took care of him until…….. the big split up and my father took him from my mother. As I said, he did not want him; he just wanted to get back at my mother. So, he started letting Ronnie smoke, swear, skip school, pretty much do whatever he pleased.

Moving back to Orlando was a happy time for me. I was eager to be closer to my sisters and was glad to get away from the troubles with my aunt in Jacksonville. My cousins (or step-brothers) and I were enrolled in Milwee Middle School.

All went well for awhile; I had made new friends and liked the school. But, one day while switching classes, I noticed some kids “dragging” this kid around. He was completely stoned and when I got closer, I saw his face. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. It was Ronnie! I did not want anyone to know that he was my brother, so I literally dove into the lockers to hide my face. From that day, I did everything possible to keep away from him. Everyday was the same; he would be so stoned that he could not walk. How he was able to remain at school is beyond me.

I knew that it would happen eventually; one day they came into the lunchroom and he spotted me. That day was a good day for him, he wasn’t near as stoned. However, for me it meant that my secret was out. I quickly got up and went outside, only to be followed by him. I told him that I was ashamed of him and that he needed to get his self straightened out and until he did, I didn’t want him hanging around Alvie, Billy or me. My friends seemed to understand and did not “shun” me from our circle of friends.

Shortly after that, he went to live with his biological mother, Marie. She had married and had a son and was trying to turn her life around. She had been out of the picture pretty much his whole life. A few times when we were little, we would go and meet her so that she could see Ronnie. He always called her Marie and my mother was mama. And Marie was fine with that. She always admired my mother and later on in life they became good friends.

However, she worked in a bar and although I never saw her drink, she hung out with men who did. And for that reason, my father did not allow her to take him for any period of time.

I might have said a lot of bad things about my father, but, one thing good about him was that he never allowed drinking and swearing around us. He never drank except for Christmas and New Years. We always had family parties so he would have a social drink. However, I never saw him drink too much.

Boy, did I do it? Did I just pay him a compliment? I guess so, but believe me; they will be far and in-between!

So, I pretty much blame my father for Ronnie “going bad”. Ronnie grew up hating our father; he hated everything about him! But, the sad thing is, he turned out just like him. If you can imagine, he turned out worse.

At least our father was a hard worker and brought money into the household to keep a roof over our heads. Sometimes we had no food in our house, but we were not homeless. The empty cupboards were not because he had no money, he just would give my mother 20.00 for groceries and expect it to last a few weeks. So, she always seemed to get by with beans and potatoes. And at the time, we did not know any different. We were kids and our bellies were full. We were lucky, not all kids are that fortunate!

I am my own Grandpa - A window of opportunity....... part 2

Finally, the day came where she made her break. My mother had not given my brother or I any advance notice. She got us up that morning, fed us and sent us to school as normal. My guess is that she did not want us to talk her out of it or just wanted us out of her way so that she could get it done quickly. She had it all planned out……. My father had just left town on a week long trip. She rented a U-Haul trailer and moved a few things into it. She left behind any big furniture and instead just took our personal belongings and any sentimental items that we had.

For her, along with her brother, Porter, and his wife, Diane, it was a busy day. Their goal was to get everything into the U-Haul and get to our schools before the school bell rang at the end of the day. They had all decided to move to Jacksonville. We would be closer to my grandmother and we would be able to make a fresh start.

So, in the afternoon, before the bell rang, I was called up to the front office. Although, I thought it was strange, I knew that it was not because I was in trouble as I was always the good girl or the teacher’s pet. When I got to the front office my mother was standing there and told me that she had taken me out of school for good as we were moving to Jacksonville. I was allowed to go back to my room, gather any personal belongings and say goodbye to my teacher. Having to say goodbye to him was hard. I was in the 6th grade and Mr. Holbrook had been my favorite teacher since I started Lake Weston Elementary in the 1st grade. The year was almost over and I had no idea what school or what teacher I would end up with to finish out the 6th grade.

Needless to say, I was not happy and neither was my brother, Ronnie. When we got to the car, my two brothers, my aunt and my uncle were waiting for us.

Upon arriving in Jacksonville, we stayed with my grandmother for a couple of nights, but, were able to rent a 2 story house on her street during that same week. My brother and I were enrolled in new schools and I was even chosen as a school patrol, which I loved!

To be able to afford the rent, we all lived together. And also included in the bunch was my Uncle John. My Uncle John had been married to my Aunt Kathleen, who was my mother’s sister. Growing up, we had always been close to their family and I had four cousins that I grew up with. However, they had just divorced, he needed a place to go and we were all short on money. So, we all lived together and split the bills.

For that week, although it was hectic, I felt like our family was getting back to normal and we had peace. But, that was the CALM BEFORE THE STORM……..

On Sunday morning, my father came in from his trip and found us gone. My mother had left him a “Dear John letter”, so he knew where we had gone. Now keep in mind that my mother had never married my father and had never legally adopted my brother, Ronnie.

Sunday afternoon, my father brought the police to my grandmothers house to get all three of his children. My grandmother told them where we lived and after a big fuss between my mother and father, the police told my mother that she would have to give up my brother, Ronnie, or she would be charged with kidnapping. As for Glen and I, my father was told that since my mother had possession of us, she could keep us until a judge decided on custody. My father told my mother to enjoy the time that she had with us, because in the end a judge would give him custody. He told her that she did not stand a chance of keeping us because she could not provide for us on a waitresses salary.

My mother was hysterical because she had my brother, Ronnie, crying for her. She was the only mother that he had known and as far as she was concerned he was her son. As children, we did not understand the law. The only thing that we knew was that we were being torn apart! And the stupid part of it all was that my father really did not want my brother. He did it out of spite for my mother!

After he left, my mother was crying uncontrollably, she had lost her son and stood the chance of losing both of us as well. She felt like a judge might decide that because my father made more money and could provide a housekeeper to watch the children that she would lose us.
Uncle John (my Aunt Kathleen’s ex-husband) told her that it would be a cold day in hell before he let my father get us. Shortly after, he and my mother married.

Okay, this is where things start looking like “I am my own Grandpa!” ---- Stay with me now!
This did not make my Aunt Kathleen happy and therefore we had a family feud going on.

Not to mention, that my uncle was now my step-father and my cousins were now my step-brothers. But, as for us children, we thought that it was kind of neat, we were always close anyway, so now we just teased about being brothers and sisters. John, (what I called my uncle, now) was always very good to me. You see, he had boys and had never had a daughter, so he was happy to call me his daughter. Glen was young and craved the love from John. In this picture that I found in my mothers personal items, Glen and John could pass for father and son. You can see that Glen admired and wanted to be like John.



Although, my mother ended up getting custody of us, our home life went from a wife beating father to a CRAZY aunt stopping by at all hours of the night to fight with my mother and John. She worked nights as a dancer and she would get off work and come by in the early morning hours. I would awake to her screaming. If we ran into her in town, she would literally start beating up on my mother.

So, we ended up moving back to Orlando. For awhile, my cousins Alvie and Billy even came to live with us. We went to school together and told everyone that we were brothers and sisters. John always said that he really cared for my mother and that if they had met years ago, their marriage would have probably survived. However, it was doomed from the start and in a few short years, they divorced.

As for my brother Ronnie, it is too long of a story to start……..

I will let this sink in and then I will tell you about Ronnie. You won’t believe what happened!

I am my own grandpa...... In the beginning.......

No, I am not a grandpa! But, I got a kick out of a joke that my co-worker sent me. It truly made me think of my family (although we are not quite as bad) and I thought that I would post a few chapters on my mixed up family!

After I totally confuse you, I will post the joke so you can have a good laugh! My co-workers are always trying to figure my family out. I told them to stop trying because we can't even keep it straight! Let me try and explain a little (and some of this, my co-workers have not even heard).........


Before my father met my mother, he had been married a couple of times. His first marriage to Verta May produced 3 daughters - Linda, Brenda and Judy. Upon their divorce, my father got custody of Linda and Brenda. Judy had not been born yet and my father did not even know that a baby was on the way. Their mother stayed away and eventually remarried. So, we did not know about or grow up with Judy. She came along when I was around 15 years old.


Then he married Marie and they had my brother Ronnie. Upon their divorce, he won custody of Ronnie as well.


Stay with me now...... I am just beginning. Finally, he met my mother. They were never married but stayed together for 13 years. My mother was glad to raise his children because she was told that she was unable to have children of her own. However, during the time they were together, my mother's prayers were answered and she gave birth to me (Barbara) and my younger brother, Glen.


Those years were hard on my mother but she raised all 5 of us as "her" children. No one was thought of differently in her eyes. Looking back, even though she went through pure hell with my father, there were a lot of good times as a family. And believe it or not, not all my memories of my father are bad ones. Sisters got married and had children of their own. In fact, my mother was pregnant (with Glen) at the same time that my sister, Linda, was pregnant with her first son, Greg. They delivered just 4 days apart and as my sister was leaving the hospital, my mother was being admitted.


In spite of my father, we had a close family. However, it was always thrown in my mothers face that if anything ever happened between her and my father, he would get custody of Glen and I as well. After all, he had gotten custody of all his other children before. Why wouldn't he be awarded custody of us? And deep down my mother was afraid that it just might happen. So, she stayed and stayed and stayed, taking all of the abuse that went along with it.


A couple of times my mother planned to leave him. So, she had our suitcases packed and when my father came home from a trip (he was a long distance truck driver) and got into the shower, we threw our suitcases in the trunk and took off. Both times, before we got a mile down the road, my brother Ronnie and I were crying and pleading with her to go back home because he would come and find us. We were afraid of what he would do to her. So, we would go back and sneak into the house before he ever knew that we were gone...... Looking back on it now, I really feel bad about making my mom feel guilty, but those times happened even before Glen came along. So, it was meant to be....... or we wouldn't have Glen.


When Glen was about a year old my father and mother got into a huge fight. My mother had enough, she didn't even take anything with her, she just grabbed us 3 kids and left walking down our dirt road. Before we even got out of sight, my father came down the road in his semi truck and tried to run us over. My mother threw us in a big ditch and jumped in after us. Once again, he drug us home and gave my mother a beating.

So, that is the story of what sister or brother is from what mother........ I will give you time to let that sink in! Stay tuned for part 2.....

Long Lost Cousins

Tonight when I got home from work, the phone was ringing. I ran in to pick it up and this person said; "Is this Barbara?"

To make a long story short, it was my cousin, Alvie, from Jacksonville. It is funny how when we were growing up, we were super close. More like brother and sister during those times. He and his family even lived with us on a couple of occasions when we were young. I spent time during the summer at his house. But, then family feuds and stupidity got in between our families and before you know it; 35 years have come and gone.

We talked for awhile and I told him that I would have to call him back as Gary and I had purchased movie tickets and were running late. However, I am eagerly awaiting to hear all about his life and about his brothers.

My cousin Billy and I are the same age and Alvie is one year older. My other cousins, Joe and Johnny were older than us, so I didn't play so much with them, but remember being close to them as well and have nothing but fond memories. Actually, I exchanged letters with Johnny for quite awhile, before his death. During the early years, when our parents were still getting along, we had a lot of good times and made many family memories.

After the movie, I started pulling out all of my mother's pictures and looking back, so many years ago...........

So, thanks, Alvie, Billy and Joe for looking me up! I know that we are all "older" now, but, we need to get together and make up for all the lost time. I love you, all.

A Life Remembered

Yesterday, we celebrated the life of my stepfather, Kelly Carver, shown above with his current wife of 8 years, Maria. He was a christian man, so there is no doubt in our minds where he is. I am sure that he was welcomed into heaven by my mother, Betty. I am sure that he once again aggravated her by pulling his pants up high, turning his cap backwards and saying "Give me a Kiss", which is something that we witnessed numerous times. He is no longer in pain and will never again have to struggle with his memory.

In the years that my mother was married to him, one of the things that we all admired about him was that he could remember things from way back, names were never a problem and he always had a story to tell. He was an old "Georgia Boy" and loved to farm and raise animals. Both he and my mother had been married a few times before finding each other. And although I never had problems with stepfathers, my little brother Glen had many. That all changed when Kelly came along. Sure, there were many times that Glen said he couldn't stand him as he did the various chores that Kelly made him do. But, Kelly never treated us as stepchildren. Instead he always told us that he couldn't love us any more if we were his "real" kids. Glen & I both say that we always think of Kelly when we hear the song, Half the Dad that he didn't have to be, by Brad Paisley. My children also loved him and he was their "true" Grandpa. My mother and Kelly moved from Georgia and bought a place two houses from us, so our boys were very close to them growing up.

It was very touching to listen to my stepbrother, Terry, speak at the service. He said that he wished he could stand up and tell everyone a lot of happy stories about growing up. But, there wasn't many. Back then, his father was a hard man to deal with and was not very happy with life. Terry said that he believed that his father's life truly began when he married my mother. My mother brought the family together and changed his dad for the better. After my mother died, Terry remained close to his father and talked to him on a daily basis. Even after Kelly remarried and moved to Ecuador, his wife Maria said that he waited each night for the call from his son. So, for Terry that is what he will miss the most. The daily talks with his dad.

As my mother was a peacemaker, so was Kelly. Before he came along, my real father, Chet, hardly came around. But, Kelly wanted him in our lives and there were a many Sunday dinners that my father was also included at the table. They were both long distance truck drivers and had many roadtrips to talk about. Kelly was also an honest man, he raised his children by telling them to never lie. He said that if a man would lie to you, he would steal from you to. As people, one by one, got up to share stories about him it made me think about life in general. My mother always used to tell us not to wait for someone to die to send flowers or tell them how you felt. Instead, make sure that they knew how you felt and cherish them while they are here with you. But, as each person got up to share their story, it was clear that Kelly touched each and every one of them during his time on earth. Some even shared songs that he had sung, as he loved to sing. In fact, as we unplugged the life support and stood around his bed, we all sung songs to him. Some church hymns, but, also his favorite song, You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille, by Kenny Rogers.

Saying goodbye is always hard for those left behind. And sometimes, in death, I think that it is the hardest thing for the person dying to deal with, those that they are leaving behind. Kelly died doing what he did best. He was fighting for life. He did not want to leave us and most importantly his wife, Maria. They married very late in life and she had never been married before. He was the love of her life and she came along when he needed her the most. Maria is such a strong woman and as his health was going downhill, she was there to nurture him, clean him and love him. He was a very appreciative man and expressed his feelings well. He told her daily how much she meant to him. As he lay dying we all promised that Maria would be taken care of. Although she may not have ever given birth to children, she has many stepchildren that love her and will be there to support her.

Goodbye for now, Kelly. And as the song goes, There's a better home awaiting, in the sky Lord, in the sky..........