A message from our mother, to her daughters (Sharon, Betty, and Patricia)... <blockquote>I love you still even though you sometimes treat me like dirt. Dad &amp; I went through hell to bring you back from California and away from Tom the devil&#39;s cohort. It really tore your Dad apart to see you in the condition you were living in. Estelle gives me a pain in the ass. She should have stayed at home and raised her kids properly. She thinks she is so smart. She sits and puffs away on her cigarette and thinks everything will be okay if she dishes the money out to those no good boys of her&#39;s. I&#39;ve got news for her. She is just helping them to get into Lucifer&#39;s hands deeper and deeper.<br><br>I thank God we got you away from there but don&#39;t know for sure if you are glad we did or not.<br><br>I pray that Daniel tries to walk the right path. Eva is sort of off the right path but pray she turns back before it&#39;s too late!<br><br>I&#39;m sure glad my mother is not alive to see all this as it would break her heart. I&#39;m so thankful that I did all the right things for her even though she and I always had our arguments. We loved each other immensely! She was not just my mother, she was the best friend I ever had on earth! When I needed to talk to someone she was always ready to listen and to encourage me to go on!!<br><br>She did not have it easy as a child. Her father was a drunkard! I don&#39;t know where he would end up after death. He died long before I was born so never knew him. My other grandpa, Grandpa Fitzpatrick, was wonderful and loved all the grandchildren. He always had a pocketful of pink peppermints. I was 4 1/2 when he died so can&#39;t really remember him too well. <br><br>I remember his big white beard. I do believe I&#39;ll see him and my grandma in heaven! What a wonderful reunion that will be!!! <br><br>When the Lord calls me I hope I don&#39;t struggle to live as I want to drift into the arms of Jesus nice and easy. Betty, I&#39;d love to talk with you someday. Trish, too, if she wants to listen to me. <br><br>I was so delighted to have three little girls, and it was so fun to sew all of your clothes. I sure spent hours at that machine. <em>Dad was so pleased that he would sneak up behind me, give me a peck on the cheek. He loved me so tenderly!</em> Sure we had our arguments but they never came to blows. <br><br>Grandpa Short was so cruel to Grandma Short. I don&#39;t know why she stayed with him as she was a teacher. But of course the wages were so low I supposed she couldn&#39;t make it. So she just stayed and kept having kids. Can you imagine - he blamed HER for that, too, as if he didn&#39;t have any part in it, the miserable bastard! <br><br>I wouldn&#39;t take anything from him. He said, &#39;You think you&#39;re so smart.&#39; I said, &#39;You&#39;re damned right, and a lot smarter than you.&#39; I bet your Dad could have told you things that would make your blood curdle of how his Dad treated your Grandma Short. <br><br>There are lots of men around today that take part, but women can get a lot better help if they aren&#39;t afraid to ask. <br><br><em>Some days I wish I&#39;d never been born. Happiness is an illusive visitor to me. I&#39;ve struggled with that all my life.</em> The happiest time was with you three girls and your Dad!!! Your Dad was a prince!!! <br><br>No man has a right to treat a wife like a child! A wife is a grown intelligent adult and should be treated as such. <br><br>My hand is getting tired so better quit and finish this later...</blockquote>I found the notes above written on scraps of paper while tidying up her room once...

<p>When I was growing up, there were only a few years that I remember my sisters being around. I was the baby of the family, and my two sisters were much older than I was. Betty was nine years older, and Sharon eleven. I remember fragmented memories of them at home - Sharon&#39;s high school science project of breeding hamsters getting a bit out of control in the old barn. Taking Sharon to the depot to take the train to Illinois where she&#39;d be attending college, Mom and I very sad, crying as she stepped onto the train. Betty dating, and being picked up by her boyfriends. One boy took her to the fair and won her some stuffed animals which I eventually inherited. Another became fairly serious - Charlie was his name - and I was very sad when Betty broke his heart by breaking off with him after meeting Bill (now her husband of over 30 years!) Betty taking out the first new car my parents ever owned, my parents later finding out she had driven it in a farmer&#39;s field. <br><br>After Betty graduated in 1968, I was all alone with Mom and Dad. I was only 9 years old, and just starting to be more social, coming out of a shell where I mostly played alone. Part of that was due to my physical problems when I was younger. Part of it was due to the geographical isolation of where we lived. So, as you might imagine, quite a bit of my growing up was as an &#39;only child&#39;... <br><br>My parents didn&#39;t take vacations like many people would, where you&#39;d go on a road trip across America, or to a Lake Cabin, or to Disneyland, etc. When we did go somewhere, it was usually short trips on the weekend, to relatives living in the county - a &#39;Sunday drive&#39;. You&#39;d enjoy the drive, the country air and nature on the way, and drop in on cousins to visit, have a meal. A clear memory of these journeys were being in the back seat sleeping, awakening to sun strobing through the trees... <br><br>On the rare occasions my father had some time built up - and a bit of money saved up - we&#39;d go on trips to visit other relatives near and far. One relative we visited more often than others was my Mom&#39;s sister and her husband, Aunt Pat and Uncle John Beaudette. Uncle John was a small, wiry fellow, French ancestry, who ran a body shop fixing cars. Aunt Pat was a working woman, always seemed a bit mysterious and glamourous to me. Uncle John smoked pipes, and both he and Aunt Pat were drinkers. My parents had drank alcohol once upon a time, too, but quit it more or less before I showed up. They felt it was the right thing to do when they got serious about their religion. However, when they visited my Uncle and Aunt, inevitably they would end up playing cards, having a drink or two, and laughing the night away in Aunt Pat&#39;s small kitchen. I would be left to myself to explore their house, which always fascinated me. I would always find the licorice in the candy dish, or marvel at the beautiful bedroom set in a hallway side-bedroom.* Sometimes I would sneak down into the basement and snoop around the old trunks and boxes to see what I might find. In the end, Aunt Pat would usually make me a malted milk, which I would eat slowly, then go into the side bedroom to fall asleep listening to the grown-ups talk... <br><br>* Ironically, years later, Aunt Pat gave me that set knowing I always admired it... </p>