Stories of us

[Mischief]

I thought it might be interesting to share some stories of ourselves; events, people, places that have had a role in shaping each of us into the individuals we are today. Funny or sad, big or little. Just things that are part of who you are, or that you figure you will remember on your deathbed.

 

[Mischief]

O.K. I'll start, with something small.

It was in the spring of my second grade year, a sunny day. I was wearing the green and white gingham dress my mother had sewn for my birthday. I was standing on the north side of the house, looking for something (probably one of the cats), when a butterfly lit on me. He stayed on me for a long time, and I tried to breathe as slowly and shallowly as possible, so as not to scare him away.

It was one of the perfect moments of my life.

 

[KLS52]

That’s a cool memory. And a nice topic for a thread. I will come back and share when I’m not so tired...I’m fighting a really bad cold and it’s kicking my butt.

 

[PTree15]

I had a teacher in seventh grade, Mrs. Heaney, who took me aside one day and told me I had a knack for writing and grammar. She encouraged me so much and instilled a confidence in me I'd never felt before. I remember going home that day feeling like a million bucks.

 

[Second Summer]

I was a candidate for my high-school's graduate class president ('russepresident' in Norwegian). Whichever candidate wins gets to address the town with their own speech on Constitution Day (17. May), plus several other lesser duties and benefits.

An integral part of being a candidate for russepresident is that you do a show. You can tell jokes, do tricks on a skateboard, play an instrument, talk about issues you'd like to raise with the school on behalf of the students, etc. It's quite open-ended, but can be quite 'edgy' and borderline expulsion stuff.

I had two helpers who played acoustic guitars that were tuned to sound 'Eastern'. I was wearing a bed sheet wrapped around me and precious little else. I walked on stage, chanting 'oum' and 'oum mani padme hum', pointed to several divine signs that showed how I was simply meant to be elected russepresident - mostly due to city names with 'Karl' in them. The climax of the show was when I revealed, aided by an overhead projector, the final proof of my divinity: the fact that I can bend my fingers in strange and unusual ways. After that I closed by doing another chant, and then I walked off stage accompanied by my loyal troubadours.

I didn't win the election, but I did get a honourable 3rd place. And I'd also let some people know ahead of time I didn't really want to be russepresident, I was only doing my part to help the reputation of our class (there were 6 classes graduating) that year.

It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience and opportunity for display of theatrical self-expression on a level which I've never since had.

 

[KLS52]

I don’t know if it’s because I’m aging, but I think of my mom a lot. I even dreamt about her the last two nights, maybe because I’ve been sick.

My mom got sick with heart related problems when I was two years old and the next 14 years were touch and go with her in the hospital more than she was home. At least it seemed that way to me. One particular year it was Christmas time and she had been in the hospital for almost three weeks. On Christmas Eve my dad sat my sister and me on the couch and said he had a present for us. I think I was around five years old. He told us to close our eyes and when we opened them, there was my mom standing in the living room. She was allowed to come home for the night but had to go back to the hospital the next day. It was really cool. We were so excited, understandably so. My (older) sister was always daddy’s little girl but I was closest with my mom.

Also my dad and mom were very close and while my dad was not affectionately demonstrative at all, my mom was always hugging and kissing him. He pretended to not like it but you could see that he did, haha.

 

[Mischief]

I had a teacher in seventh grade, Mrs. Heaney, who took me aside one day and told me I had a knack for writing and grammar. She encouraged me so much and instilled a confidence in me I'd never felt before. I remember going home that day feeling like a million bucks.

Things that seem minor to adults can have such a profound effect on children.

 

[Mischief]

I don’t know if it’s because I’m aging, but I think of my mom a lot. I even dreamt about her the last two nights, maybe because I’ve been sick.

My mom got sick with heart related problems when I was two years old and the next 14 years were touch and go with her in the hospital more than she was home. At least it seemed that way to me. One particular year it was Christmas time and she had been in the hospital for almost three weeks. On Christmas Eve my dad sat my sister and me on the couch and said he had a present for us. I think I was around five years old. He told us to close our eyes and when we opened them, there was my mom standing in the living room. She was allowed to come home for the night but had to go back to the hospital the next day. It was really cool. We were so excited, understandably so. My (older) sister was always daddy’s little girl but I was closest with my mom.

Also my dad and mom were very close and while my dad was not affectionately demonstrative at all, my mom was always hugging and kissing him. He pretended to not like it but you could see that he did, haha.

That's really hard to deal with as a child, and for so long.

My father had surgery for prostate cancer when I was in seventh grade, and after that, all through my junior high and high school years, he had a series of cardiac events. They were so painful, they would shake his entire body. There was a period of a couple of years that almost anything, even drinking a glass of cold water, could trigger one. Our family doctor told me to be prepared to lose him at any time.

I was often home alone with him, taking care of him, while my mother was out in the fields. It was very stressful, because he hated going to the hospital, and I would be afraid that, if I didn't call the ambulance, he would die, and if I did call the ambulance, the upset over that would kill him.

Once, I prayed to the god I didn't really believe in to let Vati die this time, so that neither of us would have to through this again.

I can't imagine having to start dealing with all that at the age you had to, KLS.

 

[Brian W]

I don’t know if it’s because I’m aging, but I think of my mom a lot.

I feel the same but part of my problem is being so far away from her. When I was in England, I visited on a regular basis but I have been in Sweden for three and a half years and haven't been able to find regular work to save up the money for a visit. She has a lung condition and I dread the thought of her dying before I have been able to see her again. Age also makes a difference and I have made a point of getting in contact with other members of my family on a regular basis too. It seems that family matters more as you get older!

 

[Chryssie]

Yesterday my mother would have been 94 had she lived past 1999. I credit my mother (and father to a lesser degree) how I developed into the person I am today. She was a very intelligent woman and I believe was way ahead of her time in her thinking. She even tried "weed" with my sister back in the 70's! She was born in 1925. She went to college in a time when women were expected to "find a husband." She was always an avid reader and independent thinker. I was encouraged to read, read, read, which I did and I was never censored. I was raised to be very independent from an early age. I am the oldest of 4. I could talk to my Mom about anything. We spent many hours in the kitchen; she washed the dishes and I dried them. Those were special times!

 

[Second Summer]

Another story! Fast forward about 5 years from my other story. I was visiting the U.K. for the very first time, together with my venerable pals from my home town: my two best friends, P and J, J's friend, R, who I'd gone to highschool with, and the two brothers T and T.

We were going to a concert with Yes in Bournemouth. My pals were mostly interested in drinking beer, visiting record shops and musical instrument shops, and they did all this as a group. After doing this for a while, I decided to branch out and do my own thing.

My debit card had been eaten by a cash machine at one point, I believe it was on a Saturday night when the bank was closed, so the following Monday I went on an expedition to find the bank and retrieve the card. I went all on my own in a city I didn't know, only aided by a fuzzy memory of where we had been. I even went on a bus part of the way there. It turned out to be easy peasy, but my pals were nevertheless impressed at this display of bravery and independence. At some point I was on my own in a park, sitting on a bench. I was sitting very still, and after a while pigeons started landing on the bench and walking all over me. I thought it was pretty cool. Just then my venerable pals turned up, and again they were astonished at this miracle on the park bench. The third 'miracle' of the trip was when I was talking to a homeless girl who was begging for money. I remember I parted with a small sum. No one should have to live on the street like that. My pals were again impressed with this amazing display of charity and compassion.

We also visited the beach, even though it was February or so - it was sandy and nice, and of course we went to the concert, but my work was done, no more miracles on that trip.

 

[PTree15]

Things that seem minor to adults can have such a profound effect on children.

Exactly. I've always believed that teachers and other adults can have such a great (and hopefully) positive impact on children.

 

[KLS52]

I thought of something! I started my current job in 2002. Around 2004, a co-worker/turned friend handed me a PETA magazine. I had heard of them but I really didn’t know what they were about. I was so appalled at what I was reading, specifically, about how chickens were raised. Thinking about it now I’m amazed at how clueless I was, like many people, I guess. I went vegetarian that very day.

About a year later we went to a lecture given by Howard Lyman. He talked about the dairy and egg industry. Howard Lyman - Wikipedia
That was the day I gave up dairy and eggs. I got an autographed copy of his book.

So if I didn’t get that job and meet my friend, I probably wouldn’t be where I am today on this incredible journey to compassionate living.

 

[shyvas]

So if I didn’t get that job and meet my friend, I probably wouldn’t be where I am today on this incredible journey to compassionate living.

I really like this term !

 

[Mischief]

The autumn that I started sixth grade, someone dumped off three puppies and a kitten in the ditch about half a mile from our house. The crops had already been harvested and the fields prepared for winter, so it was sheer happenchance that my father walked along the field that day and found them. He brought them home, and it was my responsibility to care for them.

The biggest of the puppies was all black, and he was a doofus. The middle puppy was black with a white bibb, and he was the smartest. The little one was a girl, all black, and much more fragile than her brothers.

I made food for them every morning before school and as soon as I came home after school, and I spent all the daylight hours that I wasn't at school outside, playing with them. I adored them.

Then one day, my mother told me that she had told my uncle to take two of them to the animal pound in town in two days. I could choose one of them to keep.

I knew what that meant, at that time and in that place. They would be gassed to death.

How could I choose who would live and who die? I loved them all, even though I loved one more than the others. But how could I choose death for two of them?

I decided I would let the choice be made for me. On the day it was to be done, I sat in my classroom and saw snow falling outside the window. I knew then that, for the rest of my life, I would think if those condemned, terrified, puppies every time it snowed.

That afternoon, when I stepped off the school bus, I was amazed and overjoyed to see not just one, but three, puppies running to greet me. It was the happiest moment of my life.

I didn't say anything to my mother, because to ask her for something was to ensure that one would not receive it. To draw her attention to something was to risk having it taken away.

It snowed a lot, and the puppies and I played and played. I dug us a snow cave in a drift, and I pulled them around on the sled. I was so very happy.

A few days later, I came home and no puppies greeted me at the school bus.

I went to my mother, and asked her where the puppies were. She told me my uncle had taken them to the pound. I said, "But I thought I was going to be allowed to keep one." She said, "You didn't choose, so I told him to take all three."

So, I failed even the one I might have saved.

And every time it snows, I remember those three puppies, and I grieve for them.

 

[Chryssie]

Mischief that story made me cry.

 

[Val]

The autumn that I started sixth grade, someone dumped off three puppies and a kitten in the ditch about half a mile from our house. The crops had already been harvested and the fields prepared for winter, so it was sheer happenchance that my father walked along the field that day and found them. He brought them home, and it was my responsibility to care for them.

The biggest of the puppies was all black, and he was a doofus. The middle puppy was black with a white bibb, and he was the smartest. The little one was a girl, all black, and much more fragile than her brothers.

I made food for them every morning before school and as soon as I came home after school, and I spent all the daylight hours that I wasn't at school outside, playing with them. I adored them.

Then one day, my mother told me that she had told my uncle to take two of them to the animal pound in town in two days. I could choose one of them to keep.

I knew what that meant, at that time and in that place. They would be gassed to death.

How could I choose who would live and who die? I loved them all, even though I loved one more than the others. But how could I choose death for two of them?

I decided I would let the choice be made for me. On the day it was to be done, I sat in my classroom and saw snow falling outside the window. I knew then that, for the rest of my life, I would think if those condemned, terrified, puppies every time it snowed.

That afternoon, when I stepped off the school bus, I was amazed and overjoyed to see not just one, but three, puppies running to greet me. It was the happiest moment of my life.

I didn't say anything to my mother, because to ask her for something was to ensure that one would not receive it. To draw her attention to something was to risk having it taken away.

It snowed a lot, and the puppies and I played and played. I dug us a snow cave in a drift, and I pulled them around on the sled. I was so very happy.

A few days later, I came home and no puppies greeted me at the school bus.

I went to my mother, and asked her where the puppies were. She told me my uncle had taken them to the pound. I said, "But I thought I was going to be allowed to keep one." She said, "You didn't choose, so I told him to take all three."

So, I failed even the one I might have saved.

And every time it snows, I remember those three puppies, and I grieve for them.

How horrible.

 

[Mischief]

This is the third time I've told it. The first time was to a counselor, about 15 years ago, then to a friend about eight years ago, and now you guys.

It's not something I can tell easily.

 

[Mikkel]

That was really sad to read.

 

[Chryssie]

I feel like this "place" is a safe haven to share with like minded individuals. I trust the people here more than I trust most people IRL. I have shared things here that very few people IRL know.