My Life Story

 I looked through what I've written in this blog and find it odd that I haven't mentioned the abuse we grew up with. Mike and I have been talking about it during his hospital stay and we both realize a lot of how our childhood shaped our lives.  I am actually happy that Mike has just blank places in his childhood memory, lost time, sometimes a whole year just gone from his memory.  His therapist believes Mike will never recover those memories and I pray he does not.  I've been a little jealous of his black outs because I remember so much of my abuse in excruciating detail. Another thing we talked about was the process we went through to forgive and then pity our father. Mike is mostly pained to think of the guilt and torment Daddy must have gone through.  I'm not so much about that. I think Dad had an Off Switch of his own that kept his abusive self buried. We both firmly believe Dad was seriously abused himself growing up, the Kiser family is and has been full ...

Santa Maria was the best time of our childhood a and I think it was the Best time for our parents to o. I remember mom crying as we left.  She was just amazed that All of the people in our street came out in the street to wave good by as we drove our.  I've never seen that again anywhere.   Santa Maria was just perfect. I was in second and third grade when we lived there.  Second grade sucked, I had a racist teacher but I didn't know that word for it yet.  Third grade was much better. I had the best teacher I ever had at Rice Elementary or anywhere,  Mrs. Wolf. She noticed that I liked to readand started encouraging and challenging me to read everything in the evil m evil m school library and I almost did.  I read the entire biography section and lived it.  They were books about famous people as children like Martha Washington,  Annie Oakly, and so much more.  There was a whole rite of children's biographies and I read them all....