I learned a lot from my Mother. Some of it by her teaching me, some must have been genetic  and some just by observation. A large part of who I am, came directly from her. There were times, when I was a teen that I just thought she was a pain in my ass but mostly I looked up to her.

She was an independent cuss and very outspoken and opinionated. Are you seeing the similarities already? She ran her own business. Always made it on her own, with no help from the Government. She was a constant volunteer for the betterment of her community. She was a Girl Scout Leader and a Cub Scout Den Mother. We lived behind the scout office and she even volunteered to store the semi load of Girl Scout cookies for the whole county every year. It filled the whole first floor for a week or so.

She was raised in Jackson on the quiet little corner of First and W. Washington. My Grandmother owned two apartment buildings there that had about 15 units each. The City of Jackson took them down in the 60's to put the road around downtown. There is a mailbox there now. She graduated JHS in 1948 and was sent to Stephens College in Missouri to learn to cook and sew so she could find herself a good man. Well, she did. My Father is from St. Louis. He was going to a college near hers. They got married and had two children and then moved to Jackson the year I was born.

She cooked and sewed and had 4 children. Everything seemed alright until she signed up to go to college in Ypsi. She wanted a teaching degree. She went while we were in school. She became a sub and worked Hunt School while I attended there. I can't give you the reason for the divorce but rumor is he did not want her to work. He wanted a housewife. She wanted to do stuff outside of the home. The divorced about 1969.

She always had a sewing machine out and actually used the Bishop method of sewing. Must have been something they learned in college. I grew up reading the Bishop Method book that she had and wanted to do everything in it. Our existence was old school and she cooked three meals a day. I learned to cook from her also. Mostly I baked things from scratch. Cookies, cakes, brownies, bread, pies and anything else I could make a mess of.

She believed in giving us a sense of accomplishment and independence too. We all had bikes and no boundaries  I learned the street names in Jackson by riding everywhere. She let me paint my room any color I wanted any time I wanted. I could sew anything and use all her stuff. She made some of our clothing.

I started acting up a little in high school. Drinking, smoking Pot, skipping school a little, talking back. Normal stuff. She hardly ever disciplined me harshly. She usually let me stew in my own guilt and that fixed that.

She opened an art gallery on Michigan Ave in the Eastern end of the Ionia. Hand in Hand Gallery. I worked there in the 70's. Her and my Step-Father opened a screen printing shop on South St. and I worked there for them also. Hand in Hand Graphics.

At about 50 years young she got diagnosed with breast cancer. She wanted to take her yearly trek to Syracuse, NY to a fire truck convention of some sort, so she put off treatment. She told us when she got back and proceeded to have chemo done. Lost her hair, etc. Later it came back and it was time for the trip again. She put it off again. Didn't even tell her husband. When they got back she told him and later us and had a radical mastectomy soon after that. I don't recall all the details. It was over 28 years ago and I had three young sons. They were 1, 3 and 5 when she passed away. She was only 53. It was a very sad time and very hard to deal with. She hand wrote her own will and in the will she gave my Step-Father my Grandmother's estate. It included about 9 apartment buildings. My Grandmother was still alive.

 Right when she got diagnosed, the first time, she handed me a safe deposit box key and just said, "You will know what to do when the time comes."  I didn't expect her to go anytime soon and I was really busy with my children so I put it in a box of papers that ended up in a storage closet. A little bitty key. They day after she passed my Step-Father asked me to come see him and he wanted possession of the key. I asked him what he was going to do with whatever it was. We both did not know what was in there. He said he wanted to bring the contents to his file cabinet. I said I would meet him in the morning at the bank. I went home and thought about it and something didn't seem right. She was barely gone and he wanted the key NOW. Her words kept ringing in my head. "You will know what to do." Well, she knew I was a cuss. She trained me. She also knew I was the most honest and not self serving. I was torn about it. I did what I thought I had to do to protect whatever she knew was in there that she wanted me to deal with and not her husband. God, what a task I took on. I did not know this would be this hard. I went down first thing in the morning to the bank. I signed in and went to the box.

I opened it and sat at a table to see what the big deal was. All I remember that was in the box was some Consumers Power stock papers. My Step-Father's family started the company. Might have been something of his. I did not know but I did not think that is why she gave me the key. There was no cash, coins, jewelry or other valuables. I assumed the stock was valuable but it wasn't mine. The only other thing was my Grandmother's will. I was young and wondered what the heck I was supposed to do with that. I took the will, locked the box back up and went straight to the court building and filed it in probate court. I went out to my Step-Father's home and let him know what I did and he got pissed. Really pissed. I had to leave pretty quick. Later in the day my brother came to my house in a huff and demanded the key. I relinquished it. I no longer needed it. I never felt like I did the wrong thing. She gave me her key to her box and told me that I would know what to do. I think I did what she intended.

Grandma's will, that I filed in Probate Court, clearly said that if her only daughter predeceased her that the Grandchildren would inherit the estate. We all got our own apartment building and a quarter of two others after she passed.

I only did what she taught me to do, what she sort of asked me to do and no one is happy with me. Nobody!!

I was going to only explain the good stuff in respect for her life and the legacy she gave me. I loved my Mom. I miss my Mom. She meant a lot to me. I volunteer...just like her. I sew...just like her. I fight every day for survival...just like her. Sometimes I just wish she would have pre-thought what giving me that key would do to the rest of the relationships. It really messed them up.

My only peace is, that my Grandmother would have wanted it that way. My Mom did, I guess. My siblings should not be real pissed because they all got a quarter of the estate. If my Step-Father is upset then he is just wrong. It wasn't his. He barley talked to my Grandmother. He hasn't talked to me since the day after my Mom passed.

I am thankful for all that she did teach me. I do have fond memories. The one thing I am bummed about is that she was put to ashes and I don't have them, so I really don't have somewhere to go talk to her. You know, like go the grave sight and sit and talk to her. There was no funeral, by her request. I was given none of her belongings. No photos, no letters, not even her sewing books. My Sister got all that.

I am not sure how to end this because even though 28 years have passed, I feel open ended. There was never any closure. Just an abrupt end to anything that had to do with family. So I guess I will just.........

Nostradamus Triangle

 I have sat within the Nostradamus Triangle and I feel qualified to vouch for the reality of the magical powers of it. There was a time when I would have doubted it but I am convinced now of the power of the triangle.

It all started when I rented an apt. to a nice guy named Scott. He was harmless but he had a tad of schizophrenia. I never ran into anyone quite like him. He is very talented in many ways. He claimed to be a gourmet cook and proved it to me by cooking me many meals. He trashed out the kitchen but that was OK. He knows all landscaping plant life, mulch and grass by their Latin names. He would walk into my shop when I had a fashion, color or style issue and solve it with ease. The drawback to all this talent was that he self medicated with Vodka. Lots of Vodka.

Well, it was about to be his birthday in a month or so. He started warning me then that he would not be leaving his apt. that day. Ever!! I would tease him and ask, "What if you Mom or Sister calls to wish you happy birthday?" (He had no phone so they called me to talk to him) His answer was, "You don't get it, I will not be talking to anyone or leaving my apt." He warned me for weeks. His birthday was on the 13th and this year it would fall on Friday. He had lived through a few of them on Friday and he knew the consequences and did not want to involve others in the mayhem. He was protecting me from what may come.

The day before his birthday I was still teasing him that he was silly to worry about Friday the 13th stuff. I worked hard that day and near 10 pm I went out into the back yard to have a glass of wine and relax. When I walked out into the yard, there sat Scott already relaxing into his first Martini. He had lit his Tiki torches and placed them in a triangle around the gathering of chairs. I just sat down to enjoy the evening and he asked me how I liked the Nostradamus Triangle. He always liked to seem like he knew something the rest of us didn't get. I asked him what the heck he was talking about. He said he knew it was almost Midnight on the eve of his birthday and he wanted to be protected if he was going to leave his room.

 I did not believe the Friday the 13th crap or the need for protection but I went along because the dancing flames were relaxing. It was such a nice night. Next thing we knew 3 police officers came toward us with long guns out and in position to shoot. That was something I had never experienced before. Ever!!! They were looking for our closest next door neighbor that had threatened to kill her ex-husband that day. She wasn't home. One of her teen sons had committed suicide a while back and she had his ashes in a guitar case for the remains. Her other son at the instructions of the ex came over earlier that day and took the ashes. It was the deceased Son's birthday and it appears everyone wanted to be close to him. She came home and found the case gone and threatened to kill the ex. They were looking for her.

After that incident and some discussion about what the heck just happened....everyone tried to calm down and pour another drink. Scott in the meantime was mentioning the virtues of sitting on the inside of the Nostradamus Triangle and how we were protected from any harm in there. We were somewhat skeptical but listened.

Just when the conversation gets back to normal (as normal as it can with a mental patient) we hear rustling of the grass in the small wooded area behind my house. It was coming towards us. The guy ended up standing right outside the triangle and looked us in the eye with the most freaked out look I ever saw. Something was gravely wrong. After he stopped for a second he moved on. We were so disturbed by the look on his face but had no clue what would make a person look like that. About 5 minutes later 4-5 police officers approach us with guns and flashlights. They were coming through the woods also. What the heck? They came up just outside the triangle and asked us, "Which way did he go?" He went that a way ------>. By the way may we ask what he did? We were informed that at the end of the street next to us he went in to try and buy drugs and the deal went bad and he got shot. Oh great!! Wonderful!! We all looked at each other and thought maybe we should go in now. It was not really safe out there. Scott convinced us that we were perfectly safe in the triangle. Anything could go on around us but we would not be harmed. We were starting to believe him. Two different incidents that I have never experienced before and all within an hour or two. I was also starting to believe the Friday the 13th stuff.

Well he assured us that all was well within the triangle so we stayed and poured another drink. Ahhhhhhhhh

Then all of a sudden a huge SUV police vehicle with lights and strobes flashing pulls in the driveway. Lit up the place pretty good. The officer gets out with his dog. I guess they were tracking the bloody guy. They found blood in my driveway. They all went to the South of there and left the SUV running. Because we were slightly drunk by now and found all this very humorous we stayed out there in the triangle to see the action. Stupid, I know. We should have gone in long ago. 

Half hour later all the officers come walking back with the dog and open the SUV door to load the dog. Scott gets up and walks towards them. Mind you he had been drinking straight up Vodka all night. He also has now left the triangle. Oh shit what is he thinking? He goes up to the very official officers and thanked them for the awesome light and strobe show.

It was time for me to go in now. I have had about all I could handle.