It amazes me how some people think in absolutes, like the world was just black and white, or just good and evil. When I think of that kind of world, I think of the Stepford Wives which scares the daylights out of me. I love the diversity, colors, rollercoasters or our universe. Think how boring life would be if all the anal people won and the world was perfect. Talk about boredom central. And whose idea of perfection is really perfect for everyone?
I am definitely not perfect by a long shot, yet I know there are people who love me for who I am...faults and all.
Seeing flaws in someone or not liking a choice they made does not mean I love that person any less. It is the people that I love that I can truely see...really see.
Life is about choices and consequences. Not all choices are easy. Some choices are very painful. Some choices come at a high cost. But pretending to be perfect and hiding secrets is not taking responsibility for your choices.
I chose to live with my husband before we were married. There are people who were very upset by this chose and concidered it an affront to them. To be honest, when I chose to live with my husband before we were married, it was not something we planned. We were in love and Lakewood, Ohio to Saint Albans, West Virginia is quite a distance. One day in West Virginia I just did not go back to Lakewood. That was my choice. If someone else does not like that...tough. Like Billy Joel sang,"I don't care what they say any more this is my life."
I also know from one of my blogs that there are people who believe that I think my mom was a bad mother. On the contrary. I think she was a great mother. She loved all of her kids very much. Not only was she a Coast Guardman's wife, she was also the wife of an alcoholic, and the wife of a man whose family tried to break up their marriage because my mother was different.
I remember before my sister was born, my paternal grandparents sitting my brother and myself down at their dining room table and telling us that when my parents broke up, or if anything happened to one of my parents, we were going to come live with them. My parents were not part of this conversation. I never told them either. I loved my grandparents. I also love my parents. I knew my dad's family tried to break up their marriage. My great-aunt even told me that my parents never should have been married because it would mess up the kids. She said this to ME...one of the kids that was suppose to be messed up because 2 people from different countries, different languages, different religions fell in love, got married, had children.
People amaze me.
In an earlier blog, I talked about my education. I think we need a much better federal system of education.
*November 1974 we were transferred from Grand Haven, Michigan to Cape May, New Jersey...in the middle of a school year.
*1 May 1977 we were transferred from Cape May, New Jersey to Semeri Chrichi, Calabria, Italy...near the end of a school year so I did not have enough school days to pass, and credits would not transfer since it was 7th grade.
*1 May 1979 we were transferred from Semeri Chrichi, Calabria, Italy to Cleveland, Ohio. At this time I was taking a correspondence course from Lincoln Nebraska University for my 9th grade credits. The government wanted to send me to a boarding school in Spain, but my dad said he wanted to keep the family together. So the best high school at the time was in New York, but my dad did not want me to take the fairy from Governor's Island because teen girls were getting raped there. So my dad accepted Cleveland, Ohio. Lakewood, Ohio was suppose to have one of the top schools so I could continue with my education. But my dad and paternal grandfather went looking for a place to live leaving my mom behind (which I still find strange. My grandfather was not going to be the one to live there...my mom was. If my husband ever tried to pull that on me, I would definitely blow up). My dad and grandfather found a duplex which was a block inside Cleveland city limits, so instead of going to Lakewood High, I went to Gallagher, which was an inner city Cleveland school. And then they started bussing. So I was bussed to a "black" school on the east side of Cleveland. Then again, before the school year ended, my parents decided they were going to move into Lakewood and pull me out before the school year ended, so I lost my credits (again, this was April or May, so I could not just finish out the year in Lakewood).
The funniest part about this is that after I graduated high school, my brother went out of his way to obtain my Lakewood High report card to show I did not get perfect grades. I do not think it was my mom who hid my school books. I think it was the same person who used to steal my diary and read it with his friends.
When I was in Italy, I caught up because a teacher said I could do it. That was all it took. I got straight As doing it also from Calvert School of Maryland. My 9th grade course from Lincoln Nebraska University I got straight As also, though I must admit, Algebra was my favorite, so I would do a month's worth of Algebra work before finishing a week's worth of the less interesting subjects to me.
So if there is any doubt, I do love my mom. When I was little, before going to bed every night, she would say,"Se aga po para poli Kukla mou (I love you very much my doll)." until my dad forbid her to speak Greek to me any more.