Unwanted
Life is different for everyone, for some people it’s like a walk in the park on a sunny day with flowers blooming everywhere. Then for others it is dark clouds, thunder and lightning striking at the feet. I guess life is not supposed to be easy. Trials and tribulations help build perseverance and that builds character which make you strong. Getting you ready for life’s next surprise kick in the old rear end.
Starting your life feeling that you weren’t wanted plays games with your head. Things have a slight change from the happy every day normal. As you get older it gnaws at your innards like an old rat with poor teeth. The stuff seems to hit the fan more often for you than your neighbor. Feeling that you weren’t a planned child should be no shock, there are probably a few billion babies out there who were never planned. I don’t see a lot of good coming from telling the kid about it later on in life though.
I do remember my father in a couple instances talking about my mother not being well after my brother Harlan was born in 1939. Dad had a way about him, he didn’t ever use a lot tact in any situation, but it just seemed like with me using the word accident was a poor choice. Unplanned, would’ve, shown a little more love. I did get the idea, slow as I am. I was not really a planned member of the family back in 1940. I appeared on the scene anyways I guess it wasn’t really my choice. I was delivered into their humble household. I came along not being planned that no doubt was a big shock to the family. I did always think my father must have had some part in it, it wasn’t all my mother’s fault.
This feeling of not being wanted sent me back to the old family picture album. I wanted to piece together some facts that supports my unwanted theory. Will that help me to sleep better? I sincerely doubt it. I will display my story with pictures to back it up and let my fellow bloggers be the jury. I don’t expect the jury will be out long and somebody will be coming to take me away, take me away, away.
Picture #1 My dad giving brother Karlton a bath in 1936.
Picture #2 My brother Harlan playing in the yard 1939.
Picture # 3 The Stork delivering me to the door 1940.
Picture #4 Me looking lost in front of the house about a year later.
Picture #5 The dead Stork hanging on the shed.
Great photos. What is the story of the dead pelican? Love the title. Ha. So were there just you three boys in the family?
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Just the three boys. My poor dear mother, bless her heart sure had her hands full. Story on the pelican, we had water on both sides of the dirt road near our house. A pelican needs lots of taxi and take off room to get in the air. It evidently was standing on the road and couldn’t get away. A Model A Ford killed the poor thing, must have been quite a jolt for both.
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