Poor Little Mouse

This morning I awoke to a little tiny mouse sitting on the stopper of my garden tub.

A little mouse came into the house

Looking for who knows what

When I went to the loo

I was looking at you

Sitting atop the stopper perfectly still in my tub

I saw the cutest little mouse perfectly perched atop my stopper

I think you were trying to be as still and quite as a mouse could be

Until the big black cat pounced in the tub and you were no more

I am sorry little mouse that you came into my house

Hubs took the poor dead little mouse out of the house

And he was no more.

RIP little mouse

Ben, My Favorite Step-Father

Mary Lou and Ben circa 1962

Can you tell my mother has a flair for drama?

Mary Lou, me, my sister, Candy, and Ben, our third step-father at Six Flags Over Texas. That boy in the back was checking my sister out, we don't know him. I was twelve and my sister is fifteen years old.

Looking back over my life, I never imagined that I would marry a blond headed man. The tall, dark and handsome ones were my type. My father was dark, handsome, but not tall. He had left our mother for another woman when I was three. Perhaps looking for a man that was similar to my father's features would bring him back to me if only briefly in the face of my Mr. Perfect man.

I was always looking for my dad everywhere I went. Constantly searching out faces that resembled our father. Looking for his eyes. Desperately seeking him. While we lived in the same city, he never called and the last time I saw him, I was nine years old. His new family had taken his time and attention away from his first family and we felt abandoned. But we never stopped searching.

I really never even thought about blond haired men with blue eyes, until our mother married a new man. He would become our third step-father. He was blond haired with the bluest eyes you ever saw. Ben was his name, he was tan from his work as a linesman and had a kind and gentle way about him. He drove the most beautiful blue convertible car with big fins. How he came to marry our mother was a surprise to us. Mary Lou never settled down with just one man; there were many men in her life and ours, too. Ben now had an instant family. Not many men wanted a woman with kids. Those were the men the we did not like.

Often, when we did not like Mary Lou's boy friends, my sister and I would put our plan in action. Our one objective was to get rid of the obnoxious man by our terrible behavior. It worked every time. A few times it did not work out to our liking, but this time was different. Ben was persistent, and we found ourselves with a new step-dad and moving into a real home. Not the ugly,cold and grim apartments we had lived in before, but a house with a yard. Life was good with Ben.

This was the first time in a long while that we were a family, if only briefly. Ben traveled with his work and came home on weekends. We had barbeque's, went swimming, traveled to meet his family all over Texas. My sister and I did not know what an extended family was like because Mary Lou was an only child. This was a new and foreign experience for us. So this is what having family is like? One of his nieces was a little girl that was about ten years old, Ina, was her name. She sang I-N-A all the time. There was a song about an insurance company named INA. She would sing and dance a little bit like she could not be still. My sister and I were city girls and had little in common with these little country girls that had even less than we had. We went all of Texas to meet his family and they us. Little did I know that from those childhood introductions would one day years later help us overcome our sorrow.

For awhile our mother was sober and off prescription drugs for several years, but she still did crazy things like getting all holy on us. She tried to save all sinners. We were just children, we weren't sinners. Why she could not just leave us alone? Always pushing us away. Why didn't she work on herself first. Maybe later when she finished her own self-improvement and finding God she could save us. It was all or nothing, or nothing at all. Bazaar extremes and bad behavior were her trademarks. Life with our mother was not easy and she knew how to pick you to pieces. She did not want to be our mother, but rather our sister. Good grief! She had to be the center of attention.

Ben stayed married to Mary Lou until I was nineteen and in college. We had gone through a lot with Ben. Mary Lou was admitted to a long term facility for her addictions. My sister and I lived alone that summer. We were 16 and 18 years old. While Ben worked down in Florida at Cape Canaveral. It wasn't soon after that Ben came home less and less. We saw the writing on the wall and knew Mary Lou had lost another chance at love. I felt so forsaken like an unwanted kitten on the side of the road. I am not even sure I can aptly describe this feeling that had become all to familiar. The farewells and the leaving was a constant reminder of not being wanted. Repeated over and over for many years. Never feeling worthy of being loved.

One day, I received the call from Ben telling me that he was leaving our mother, Mary Lou. He felt really sad about leaving us and I could tell by the sound of his voice he was sorry he could not make it work out. Politely, I thanked him for the call, wished him well and said good-bye, once again, good-bye.

Trying desperately to just put this out of my mind. Every few weeks, Ben would call. He was a little tipsy, but always sorry for leaving. I thought that bothered him more than he even knew. We were used to it, the men coming and leaving. He always ask about Mary Lou. The conversation was cordial, but revealing little information. It was his check in call to make sure we were alright.

Every so often I would get that drunk call in the middle of the night from Ben. For the first couple of years, I just would listen to his liquid sorrow that spilled forth from his night of imbibement. His pain was palpable, but I was sad, too and so I listened.

Some how during all those many calls we became true friends. I liked Ben, even when he was teetering on and off sobriety, even after he left our mother. He traveled all around and yet still the calls came. He came to meet our first born son, Brian. He would drive for hours and as soon as he got here he would play ball with Brian. He also came when Hunter was born. He was still like family to me even more so than my mother. My mother never came for the kids births or for anything when I needed her, but Ben came. My own father abandoned us, but not Ben.

It would take me years to realize that I had married a blond haired blue eyed man that was like Ben. Not that tall, dark and handsome Mr. Perfect man that I always yearned to marry. Perhaps all those years ago,while my mother was never satisfied with me, Ben did the one thing my mother could not. In my mother's eyes, I felt imperfect, but Ben never tried to change a thing about me. He loved me for me and not what my mother wanted me to be. Ben visited my family a lot. He was the grand father my kids never had. He spent quality time with us.

He mentored me as an adult, encouraged me to bridge the gap with my estranged father. I learned how to forgive and let go. Ben was there for us when we found out months later that our father had died. He came with us to say our farewells at the foot of our fathers grave. He never judged our father because he understood what we were feeling. I learned what real family was about and what it meant to be a family. So many lessons learned while Ben was alive.

Even in his death, I learned how much he loved us girls. We went to his funeral in Vernon,TX. We were listed as his children on the funeral program. I can't even begin to tell you what that meant to us. It made me feel whole and loved. His family lifted us up with unconditional love. They had so many wonderful stories to tell us that Ben had shared with them. Photos and memories were shared in the Dairy Queen in that little town. I took my photos as well to share our stories of Ben with his family. I have never felt so touched. This beautiful family embraced us, we caught up on one another's lives. Some how they made it better. Their faith surrounded us.

Ben's sister ask me "Did you ever wonder why Ben did not have children?" Well, yes I did wonder why. She said"Because you and your sister were his children." I fell apart in tears and total surrender to this thought that a man not even related to us loved us more that our own mother and father did. This quite humble man taught me so much without saying a word. He was my best friend and I still miss him so very much. His family were good people and they showed without words just what love means.

I will never forget Ben. Never. He was the kind of man that inspires one to do good for others. I am who I am because of Ben. What a gift he gave me, when I least expected it.

Part Two...

In the Autumn of my freshman year, I met Doc. He was in my Spanish class and set in front of me with his room mate, Russell. I liked the man sitting next to him. He was tall, dark and handsome. You see that was Russell.

I had been sick and had gone to the doctor. I get a call from Doc Tannehill and I wonder why is the doctor calling me? I thought it was the infirmary doctor. I listened to him and then realized he was not the doctor.

He explained that he was in Spanish class with me. I got so excited because I thought this was the tall dark handsome guy in front of me. Once again, remember that I like tall dark and handsome men. I accepted the invitation for the date only to realize that Doc was not Russell. Doc was tall, blond and blue eyed and handsome for a man that was not my type. Mr. Not My Type would not work out so I thought.

On our first date, he took me flying. I had never been in a small aircraft and was somewhat scared. He ask me if I wanted to fly it. Doc said it was just like driving a car. Well, it wasn't!

He had fun stalling the plane and frightening me. It was late that day when he brought me back to my dorm. Pretty impressive first date. I did not know what to think of this blond haired man in a sport coat and a tie.

I told my room mate about him. She said "He would have to grow on me, and that I would marry him". What was she talking about? I was going to be an interior designer and I had not even thought of marriage. Little did I know that she would prove me wrong years later.

I did not let him kiss me for six weeks. Then when he did kiss me, well I sorta liked it. We grew closer and closer. He would walk me to my classes. That felt odd, but then again no one had ever walked me to my class before. All of a sudden we were a couple. Doc was very intense and that scared me. I had never been in a relationship like this before. We would fight all the time, break up and then get back together. It was not the sort of relationship I wanted.

We dated on and off for three and a half years. Constant bickering, then we would make up,mixed in with fighting and paronia. He was the jealous type, so was I, but not to the extent that he was. The next summer we broke up because he was going to Rome, Italy for a summer school program. I enjoyed my freedom, but being the good girl I was I never dated anyone. I heard all kinds of stories about Doc. How much fun he is having. I am OK with that. He seemed to enjoy the high life and rubbing it in.

Another year passes, then I go on the Tech Rome summer school trip. We break up. I am enjoying Italy because I am an art major. I stay unattached and hang with a group of friends. Thinking that our relationship is over for good. Doc started writing me and then calling me in Rome. He is sorry and begs forgiveness. Away from him I am strong, but he has a grip on me still. We are so young and silly. Sometimes you would do anything for love. I was caught in the strong arm of love and it would not let me go.



I had met a really neat guy before I went to Summer School and he and some friends wanted to drive me to New Orleans for my flight. This was the first nice guy I had met in a while. I just wanted to be friends, but he wanted more. It was the strangest return flight from Rome because my new friends were there to pick me up, but so was Doc. This was truely one of the worst days of my life. I had never been in such a predictment. What do I do? Do I go with my friends and the new guy or do I run back to the changed old boy friend? It broke my heart, but I went with Doc. Doc had changed. He had more confidence and knew what he wanted.

On the way back, we stopped at my new friends house to try to explain why I made the choice I did. We cried, he did not understand why I had made the decision that I had made. He did not understand that Doc and I had a long history and that I loved both of them. I loved him in a different way from Doc, but I still cared deeply.

So on the happiest and the sadest day of my life I chose the man that I thought would be the best man for me. Things were good for a while, then Doc started back with his old insecurities, smothering me with his doubt, his fears. Day after day he kept on and on. I was so co-dependant that I was afraid I had made the wrong choice. I had enough and left Doc for the final time.

This was not how love was suppose to be. This is not what I wanted. I can't breathe. I refused to take his calls and stayed in my dorm. I would see him coming and going from my dorm looking for me. Back in those days, men could not go above the living room reception area. I needed time to sort this all out. It wasn't long until my new friend called because he had heard that Doc and I broke up again.

I had to know if I had made the right choice. So I dated the new guy for a while. I found out that he was not really sincere about me. Maybe he just wanted to hurt me like I had hurt him. I don't know, but that friendship ended when I saw the real guy. He did not care about me at all. Now I am thinking that I have really blown it this time for good. Doc graduated and I heard he was dating again. I was alright with that because this was my choice and I would have to live with it.

By now, it is the fall quarter and I am back in school living with some new friends in an old house. I came down with the flu. I was so sick, and no one really helped me. Actually I don't remember very much about that time. Some how Doc found out and came to our house. He took me home to be with my family. I had strepe throat and Tonsellitis. I had to get a shot everyday. Doc went back to his home town. I could not believe that he did that for me.

It was soon after that we started seeing one another again. We had both grown up and put our childish ways aside. Doc was going in to the service and I took him to catch his buss. That was three days before Thanksgiving.

Friday's Fave Five

Please visit Susanne's blog for more details Living to tell the Story

My blessings this week were abundant and I am so thankful for all of you that lifted my spirits up.

1. My sister has returned from her visit and I missed her so much.
2. Carmen, the doberman that we rescued, is doing well after her first treatment for heart worms.
3. My acupuncturist has returned from China and I had a treatment and feel better this week.
4. The weather is absoutly beautiful.
5. This week has been so much better than last week. I am so thankful. My RA is better this week.