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The Tangles That Shaped Me
When I was in junior high school, I found myself standing at a quiet crossroads that no one else seemed to notice. On the outside, I was just another kid trying to survive algebra class and navigate the middle school schedule. But inside, I already felt the tug of two very different paths. I seemed to be the daring one of the family, you know, “The Black Sheep”. I always wanted to do the undesired activity to prove that I could and would do what I wanted. -
Tangled Memories
I’ve always had long, straight hair. You’d think that would make life easier—no curls to tame, no frizz to battle. But somehow, my straight hair has always managed to find its own special ways to get me tangled in trouble.And honestly? That theme started way back in childhood.
The Daily Ponytail Pain Olympics
When I was little, Mom took charge of styling my long, straight hair every morning—ponytails, braids, neat little parts. She had a vision, and my job was simply to sit still and survive it. What didn’t help was that even as a kid (and still now), I couldn’t stand “sticky-outies.” Every single hair needed to be smooth, tight, and perfectly in place. One little piece sticking out of a ponytail could send me into full hysterics, and Mom would have to stop everything and fix it before I could function again.
Mom would grab the brush and immediately begin working like she was on a mission. I’d wince, pout, or try to subtly shrink away from the next swipe. Naturally, the more I reacted, the firmer her brushing became.
Eventually came the line every child of the 70s and 80s heard at least once:
“If you think THAT hurts—I’ll show you something that really hurts…”
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Dining with Dogs
When I was a kid and living at home, evening meals held in a formal dining room were the norm. Things have changed drastically, wherein formal dining rooms are a thing of the past. Everyone seems to prefer an informal way of living, such as eating at counters, in front of the TV, and in the car on the way to an event. My mom would set the table with a cloth tablecloth, breakable dishes versus plastic, matching silverware, and to top everything off, we ate by candlelight. This didn’t seem odd, and we enjoyed engaging in discussions of our days and events. -
Game Night Gone Wrong
Mom and Dad often left my older sister, Sandy, in charge of me. This happened when they had friends to play cards or just to visit. This was often a recipe for disaster. We would stay upstairs, and we were supposed to keep quiet. Since this was usually on a Saturday night, Mom would do my hair before their company came. In those days, doing hair meant washing and setting it on rollers and drying under a bonnet hair dryer. The idea was that the hair do would last for church the next day. -
Growing Pains
The day and year that I really grew up was definitely an important experience. One that I would have forgone forever. This was the day that my dad passed away. He was only sixty-two years old, died of a heart attack, and left his family reeling in shock and dismay. -
Lazy Summer Days
I enjoyed being a kid. I was adventurous and loved to explore new things. One of my favorite things I remember as a kid was the lazy summer days. In my day we didn’t have all the activities that kids today seem to be involved in. My summers were my favorite time of the year. It meant jumping out of bed, pulling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, grabbing a bowl of fresh raspberries from the garden, and on to my friend’s house. -
Not Grown Up Yet
I remember bits and pieces of being a child and I often wanted more. I wanted to stay up late like the grown-ups. I wanted to decide what I would eat for dinner and what to buy at the grocery store.It seemed like all the big decisions were made by the adults.
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Freedom and Jesus
I always knew I would go to college. It was more than growing up, more than the next step…it was freedom!
Actually, I didn’t even know there was an option. It wasn’t until years later that I discovered that my dad didn’t really believe that I would go…and graduate. (I’m kinda glad that no one ever shared that little detail with me.)
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Longing for College Life
The first time I moved away from home would be moving to college. I was so excited to make the move, I had planned out my entire dorm room before even getting home from my college tour.