Clara and Millie vs Ma and Pa

Most everyone who has read my book, Chasing Dragons: Vengeance, has said they love the two old ladies. In that case, I have to say with much confidence, you would love my Ma and Pa Mallory. Millie and Clara are based on my grandparents and I lovingly wrote the two sisters with them in mind. I think Pa would get a kick.

When I was younger than four, my mother met a wonderful man who took my sister and myself in as his own. When I was four, they married. His parents gathered us and placed us with the others of the family and not one person could tell them we didn't belong. Those who knew them called them by name, Buster and Trisie Mallory. I called them Ma and Pa. They didn't have much money and spent their lives working hard, not forgetting to laugh along the way. When they lived in Iowa, their twin son and daughter died of pneumonia at the age of nine months. Ma's dad traveled from Missouri to Iowa and brought them back to Missouri for burial. With no money to return with them, they were unable to see them laid to rest. They eventually returned to Missouri and stayed till their dying day.

A large painting of Pa's childhood home hung on the wall, in a way contradicting the relationship between his parents and himself. He left home as a young teen, and to my understanding, he never spoke to his father again. I believe he did maintain a relationship with his mother. Ma was the opposite. Her father, Grandpa Calhoun, was a stand up man, marrying her mother and giving her son a name in a time when a woman with a child born out of wedlock was an outcast. I once asked Ma where her name came from. She said that Grandpa Calhoun got it from the Farmer's Almanac. He smoked a pipe, but never in the house because she didn't like it. When you look at the old black and white pictures, you see their love for each other, and when it came at their full time, Grandma Calhoun was the first to go, with Grandpa following three weeks later.

Ma and Pa were loved by all and in turn, they made us laugh. On Sunday's we would go to their house, sometimes skipping church, and most others, afterward. Ma always fixed dinner, my favorite being her homemade rolls. One Sunday, the women were in the kitchen (of course) washing dishes, and the men were in the living room watching football. Howard Cosell, a sports journalist, was commentating on TV when Pa said, "Look how long his nose is." Ma said, without missing a beat, "I wouldn't be talking, yours is splattered all over your face." Pa's nose was flat and wide, due to it being broken when he was young I'm guessing.

Other wise words of Pa:  "I went to college. I walked in the front door and turned around and walked out." "I'm ready to meet Jesus, I'm just not ready to catch the bus."

Wise words of Ma: "Come back and see your fat ol Ma."

Ma would tell Pa and I to quit behaving like sniveling little girls when we would pretend cry when I left those Sunday evenings. They dressed like each other one Halloween party. I know of no one who could beat him at checkers. Ma liked to quilt and she liked to cook and make sweet, sweet tea. Some Sunday's we walked in the door and she would show us the different quilts she had finished. Laying on top of another, she would pull the top layer neatly back to reveal the next creation as we oohed and awed over each one, and they were worthy of the oohs and awes. And they both liked to play cards. I'm told that Pa is a good shot, that he could light a match. No joke. My dad will attest. He lost half his index finger to a saw blade, but told us kids a booger ate it. My nephew shot him with a toy gun, his teeth fell out and Adam cried and ran away until he realized it was a joke. Couldn't stop the boy after that. Ma always wore a dress that stopped at her knees with roll-up pantyhose and comfortable ugly loafers. I never saw Pa in anything other than overalls, unless he was in church, a wedding, or my graduation. And he isn't allergic to poison ivy and he collected hammers. ??? I don't know. I remember after he died in 1989, we went to his shed and rows and rows of hammers hung on the wall. Ma didn't die until  2002. The last few years of her life, every time I visited, tears would collect in her old eyes and she would say, "I don't understand why God won't take me home." And in the end, a tumor grew in her brain, leaving her speechless, but she could still wag that finger at you with a gleam in her eye.

When it was finally her time to go, I didn't cry. I did wipe a few teardrops away with my hand, but I understood she was where she wanted to be. She was home, with Pa, and God. I miss them. So I hope you see them when you read of Millie and Clara, because I put a little of them, inside.

I find I like to write. It is the time I am allowed to write that seems to hinder me. The things in my life that take precedence over it, such as: sleep, kids, husband, family in general, cleaning, gardening, bills, work, migraines, broken ignition on the van (repair work), and the items of life that turn our world. I think it's in those moments that am finally able to sit down and my fingers move, creating the story that before long I reread and think I wrote that? It's in those moments I write and disappear into my unfolding world, that even if no one else takes the time to read and appreciate the characters, I at least was able to journey with them and be thankful that I could leave everything behind me if for just a little while.

But I can also leave the writing behind and appreciate the people in my life that keep me grounded and loved. Like my friend Kylie. She is one of my staunchest believers and one of the first to offer a hand, or car. She, like me, has her own problems in life. So I think its safe to say we understand each other. She has a wonderful man she will be marrying, (he's in the army in Germany and soon to come home for the wedding). She deserves the happiness that is coming her way. I hope it continues. No matter how far she goes, she will be my friend. We have to, because our daughters are also bffs. And it would be a tragedy if any of us lost the other. So, dear Kylie, I will wave to you and keep the security guard from escorting you off the red carpet. I love you.

Book bloggers are essential to an author and their stories. They are like a lifeline for book sales and the spreading of the word for the next best or worst book. Even those oh so, so ones. Rachel's Book Reviews has agreed to do a book review for my very own, Chasing Dragons:Vengeance. At this time, I am unsure if she has read it or not, or if she is in the making of preparing her own thoughts to my novel. What I do know, is no matter her like or dislike of it, she will tell you how it is. Her book review website is one of the most unique ones I have come across and she has put a lot of thought and effort into it. So, please, go and visit  Rachel's Book Reviews at: http://www.rachelsbookreviews.com/#! and if you like it, spread the word. And I will let you know as soon as her review for Chasing Dragons: Vengeance is up. In the mean time, check out her site and see if she can lead you to another book that may pique your interest.

It's a new month, July 2011. This new road I am on is exciting. No matter how well my book sells, the imagination I am able to write down is fulfilling in so many ways. For one, I look at the words I type, reread and think 'wow, I just wrote that. No way.' But then all the hours I put in writing, reading, editing, and rereading, I know I did write every word and struggled over every idea and the direction it would take. Some days the writing flows and other days, the writing stands still. Sometimes I have to tell myself to set the computer aside and forget about it and enjoy just my family.

Speaking of family, we spent last week in Newport, AR with my husband's mother's family. The Madison's. Though Grandpa Hozie, died last year, Granny Madison is still alive and somewhat well. They were the proud parents to thirteen children (one did sadly die as an infant.) When these children were grown and had families of their own, they decided to meet every year. I have been going to the Madison reunion for eighteen years now. All cousins are grown and with families of their own. Each year, I have yet to see an Aunt or Uncle miss(most live in AR, one in MO, one in AZ, and one in Louisianna). Cousins (each scattered) who miss one year, will make it the next, and several never miss (there are about three that only come occasionally), and now the third generation is following in this tradition. How long it will continue is anyone's guess. Even after Granny Madison is gone, I think everyone will still get together. They are a close, God loving family. And I am proud to be a part of their heritage. It warms my heart to see a family this big want to get together to laugh and talk and just hang out together because they like each other. I hope my children are as blessed as they grow older and form families of their own, to stay in contact with each other just because they like each other.

My own family is stretched between OK and MO, one in KS, but there are no get togethers like the Madison's. I have asked for a Price reunion (my mother's side), but no one seems to want to or have the time. So I guess my memories will have to suffice. My sister lives in OK and I miss her very much, while my niece is set to take off for Europe for an indefinite time, I miss and will miss her too.

There are other, family members I haven't seen or spoken not quite a year now, but roads do go both ways. I won't say anymore on that. Some of you may be able to understand without knowing the particulars. I guess I shouldn't let hurt dig a cavern so deep that it doesn't heal. I know my children will miss out if I do. I wrote on my blog last year about my feelings on the situation, but I deleted it after awhile. I really don't know if betrayal is the right word to use in the situation.

I guess that in every family, there are times of good and bad. The good is easy to deal with while the bad takes some effort to try and heal. But no matter the size of your family or the type of family that binds you together, you are bound.

If only everyone would take my advise, even me: love each other, forgive each other, laugh with each other, repeat.