In the spirit of Thursday 13, I'm gonna make lists of stuff I'm grateful for.
Today's topic:
13 People who shaped diana. It takes a village. It's taken a village. I still have a village. Here's just a peek and a few of the folks I'm grateful for.
1.
Red Stangland. He was a clown with the Shriners, I was a poor kid he was there to entertain. Our town was really cool about having events for impoverished children. To my parents it was a break, and with gifts and food for us: win/win. It was a tough situation for me, hell, life was a tough situation for me. Red helped make it a lot better. That first day, he took me to the big mirror and gave me a clown face and enlisted my help in giving gifts to other kids. I was glowing. Then he offered to drive me and my siblings home in his beautiful, clean, Cadillac. He called my parents and we were off. Then he unloaded all the left over gifts from his trunk to our Christmas tree. And the bags of peanuts, ribbon candy, an apple and an orange. Lots of them. I don't think I'd ever been happier. We had dates once a month for many years; I can't dip my crinkle fries into my shake without thinking of him. In my biography, an entire chapter should be dedicated to him. We were still in contact when he died in 1995.
2. Mrs. Surts. The prettiest, sweetest, kindest teacher in the whole wide world. In the first grade, I began charming her on the playground, begging to be placed in her magical classroom in my 3rd grade year. I did, and it was indeed magical. Her big grey poodle, Pooh, talked to her and every morning she would recount her day's conversations with her dog. We all wanted to please her and it was easy to do. She cried when Jack died in "On the Banks of Plum Creek" and when Charlotte died in "Charlotte's Web." Even the boys cried and no one said a word to them about it. The "bad boys" of 1st, 2nd, and 4th grades weren't bad boys in Mrs. Surts' 3rd grade room. Magic indeed.
3. Mrs. Schumm. I started hanging out steadily with Mary Schumm around 4th grade. Her house was on my way to and from school. AND her mom made the best home made cookies on the planet. AND the cookie box was full of them. AND there was milk in the fridge. I never went home hungry for many years. When my 5th grade teacher commented, on my report card, that I read too much, it was Mrs. S who went in and stuck up for me. 20 years later, I got to extend our family's kindness and generosity to her grandson. It was beautiful.
4. Gene Tvreberg. In English class, during a test, I hear
psst, nod if it's true, shake if it's false... 1... 2... 3... beyond my control, my body was complying with his wishes. I was cheating for someone I don't think I've ever looked at. I collected his paper, looked in his eyes, saw his smile and knew I'd just made a great friend. We were inseparable for our most angstful periods of teenage life. We talked on the phone for hours, every day, even though we had been at school together all day and lived 4 houses apart. I miss him.
5. Dave Hundley.
I think I'm gay, but I'm not sure and I want to hang out with you because I think you're cool, so do you think that would be okay? and do you think you could come over here and meet my parents? I can't go out with anyone they don't know and frankly, I think they'll really like you and not say anything about us going out, so is that okay? will you? And thus began the first love affair of my life. And the first, best dye job ever! A tortured soul, this one, who gave me the gift of so many challenges and lessons and connections. And a hell of a lot of fun! Someday I'd like to thank him in person. Until then I pray he finds the peace he so desperately needs.
6. Big Joe DeGano. Yeah, he came into Chief Auto Parts on a Friday night, on his way to the MX races, with his friend Chuck, to get a funnel. I noticed them as they were headed to the door and they returned to the oil aisle with me, big smiles all around, to see if I couldn't find what they needed. Chuck was quite the charmer, he sold Joe quite well. I remember I'd been in town exactly a month, Jan 6, 1987, I was wearing stirrup jeans. They left with my phone number and a tour of Bakersfield scheduled for Sunday. Five years later we broke up officially. 20 years later, we're still friends. That night changed everything I ever thought was possible in the 18 years I'd had before then. Joe kicked my proverbial ass, constantly, and the vibrations are still felt today. He gave me Wayne
Dyer,
The Forum, the ability to laugh at my situation and find entertainment in the throws of woes. He's a loud voice in my choir, one of my biggest cheerleaders (ass kickers). Whole Complete Perfect ~that's a Big Joe-ism. Joe doesn't need his own chapter, he is woven in and out of every part of me since that first night at the store; my toothpaste and deodorant choices alone!
7. Jayson Victor. I worked at a video store in Chatsworth, CA where I met Jayson. He was a riot. Once, he pretended to leave, snuck back into the store, hid in the adult section for over an hour before standing up and scaring the beegeezus out of me!! My heart stopped. A good scare. He also arranged to have all of his friends gather with him at the opening of the
first TMNT Movie. There I met his friend Martha, who has a brother, Mike, who I dated for just over a year and introduced me to his friend, Dave, whom I later rented a room from, who also happened to introduce me to Mitch. Mike and I were also together at the party where I met Christine. And my friend Joe is still friends with Jayson's friend Jon. Thanks Jayson!! He once gave me an Italian movie poster for the Highlander, mounted on foam core, for my birthday. I loved that thing. I hope it's still being loved.
8. Christine. The first parent I'd ever witnessed who spent a vast amount of time and energy enjoying her kids. Every Saturday night, I'd show up for Ren & Stimpy and ZoAnne & Chance, Christine and Mark were there, a mere bonus to the real hits of the evening ;) They were trusted to sleep when they were tired, they interacted as humans with bigger human beings. Chance was a babbling baby (just past 1) and ZoAnne (3.5) a budding lactation consultant, that first weekend meeting. Could it be?
15 years ago this weekend? They may have gone to daycare and school, they are the first free souls I'd ever met. I've kicked Christine's ass often enough for her to be well trained at kicking me exactly where and when I need it. What a gift, this evolving love of ours. Happy Anniversary, my family ♥
9. Dave Hamrick. It's all his fault. He knows it and he's okay with it. Maybe not, too bad. Dave had a habit of collecting Derby and Derby's thug-seeming friends for some hanging out in the garage. I'd managed to avoid them for weeks,
this day there was no more avoidance, I needed to emerge for a smoke. And there
he was, the
clean cut looking guy in the UCLA sweatshirt and the infectious smile. Somehow scarier than all the tattooed and kerchiefed guys together. He got my name, we shared that famous first talk and proceeded to introduce me. The shadows morphed into sweet young men, doing their grammas proud, and began calling me Carrot Top. In that moment, in that exchange, the path to Mitch's wife and mother of his children and ultimately his widow with his son, was set upon without a cloud in the sky of thought.
It was Dave who first told me he was glad I was not involved with Mitch. 8 months later it was Dave who helped Mitch pack at his mother's house and move into ours. It was Dave who so loved having our
family of 3. It is Dave who understands the intensity of parenting
Mitch's children. It is Dave who feels the weight of Mitch's reclamation of Hannah. It is Dave who has, since first meeting, chased Hayden around proclaiming his resemblance to his daddy. It is in Dave where a deep and great story awaits telling. He should write his own book. And he happens to be Patches' proud grampa ♥
10. Dave Reed. I feel so smart when I hang out with Dave. We've always had this incredible conversational, thoughtful relationship. He
has to be on the list because of the incredible connections required for our meeting. Joe worked at a MX company and Ray worked in the warehouse there. No one but Joe really talked to Ray at work and found him a bit
odd. Ray planned a St. Patrick's Party and invited all his co-workers. Joe was leaving town and told me to go, have a good time. So I did. I didn't know anyone but Ray, and him only barely. I'd just finished The Forum and was feeling highly empowered. I saw Dave on my way to the bathroom. Still there on my way out, so we talked. All night. To no one else. He knew Ray's roommate, not Ray and only the roommate. Our meeting was a God Wink, for sure. We met on a semi-regular basis, I'd drive into Westwood (where he attended UCLA) and we'd hang out for many many hours and talk about our philosophies to make the world a better place. All so sweet and so smart. In between, we'd write hand written letters. He spent a year in Paris; I've saved all the postcards. Technology has been the bane of our love of paper and writing. Sometimes I like to put on *that diana* costume; not so often anymore.
11. The Devish Family. I attended Judson Memorial Baptist Church for the first time with my friend, Becky Ewald, in the 3rd grade. Arlin Devish was in our class. He sat there. He is Deaf and no one could sign. I talked to his dad, Dale, after services about getting a ride to church every Sunday. Armed with an ABC card and sheer will, I struck out upon what would become a deep love affair with my second language, ASL. I've received a holiday card from Lois most years of my life and they always seem to surface in my life just when I need them. I was with them, in their church on the morning of the day Mitch died. Scotty was once telling me a story and I told him an
eerily similar tale that, of course, was the same story about the same guy -The loss of Dale Devish's hand! Scotty's father worked with Dale at the welding place. My world is so small.
12.
Sandra Dodd. One day at the library, as I watched my kids do their thing, which generally included books and computer games, I lamented to the mom's table that we'd not done any home "school-looking" stuff in quite a while. With everything else going on in my kids' lives, it seemed trite to force-feed "See Dick run." and "Write your b
s" after they'd acquired, quite naturally, from our real life, an incredible understanding of chemotherapy, radiation, nausea remedies, liver cleansing, soup making, short term memory vs long term memory, swimming, death, singing, funeral arrangements, and grieving. I didn't want to
have to bring trite into our already-full lives. Someone turned to me and said,
That sounds like unschooling. You should look into it. And I did. There wasn't a baby-step approach to e-lists back then. Ideas were dissected by firm believers in the value of jumping-in-right-here-and-make-NOW-better approach. And it was just the kick in the pants I needed. There was an energy among the posters, a rhythm that I'd only felt in my head, that I could suddenly feel coming from
whole families where people
actually loved their kids, each other and the kids loved each other too!! Names became familiar, I put words of wisdom with stories about real people in real houses. People would rave about gathering for the first couple of Live and Learn Conferences. I am so thankful for the gushing, I was compelled to attend with my kids in 2004. I came to meet Sandra, I so wanted to thank her in person for putting herself
out there so folks like me could relate and recover and recreate. I got to meet Sandra, and Hayden got to meet Marty. Hannah had the roving pack of girls, including Fire, Kyra, Jayn, Ella. I got to hear Anne Ohman speak of the
Leap of Faith required to live fully, giving me the most amazing unschooling as a day at the beach analogy :D I got to hear Ben Lovejoy. Then Danielle found me. I met Kelly Lovejoy. And I met Kelly Traaseth - and her most amazing family, as Hannah'd already adopted them and vice-versa! I got to meet Deb Lewis and Dylan there, too. The connections from here could definitely be it's own book. This doesn't even begin to touch upon the shifts in me, in my perspective, in my parenting, in who-I-am-right-now that have come from the sharing of her stories and her wisdom. More recently the gifts of her children & their friendship. Sandra is gift to more people than she'll ever meet.
13. Tena. Aunt Darla and Craig (now known as Uncle Pickle) lived in a basement apartment below Tena and her mother, Judy. I thought Judy was beautiful. I also thought she and Darla looked a lot alike, kinda night/day versions of the long haired hippies of the 70s. When life was good and I happened by, I got to hang out with Tena and her cat, Jigger, while the adults medicated themselves elsewhere. It seemed, and still seems I suppose, we float in and out of one another's lives in the perfect ebb and flow. Life we've shared by witness or retelling - we're both in awe of our own and one another's power to make amazing things happen when the chances of possible are slim. Like being pregnant together, 1200 miles apart! Like finding me on AOL. Like knowing our friendship and our love will withstand any situation Life's gonna throw at us. Knowing that we are doing so much better than our examples, even if we're not doing the same things. We can heal, we are healing. We are Doing. Our kids are so blessed. So are we.
...to be continued. Throughout the rest of my life, I imagine. ♥
When we got off the next ride, the giftshop-at-the-end contained this little guy. He so well represented me-at-that-moment, I had to buy him. When we got home, he went up on the tree. There he's been every Christmas since. And he's there now, four days early. And I'm breathing. 
When we got off the next ride, the giftshop-at-the-end contained this little guy. He so well represented me-at-that-moment, I had to buy him. When we got home, he went up on the tree. There he's been every Christmas since. And he's there now, four days early. And I'm breathing. 
Me, from 
