Let me explain first my parents are very nice people and provided myself and my siblings a wonderful life. My childhood is filled with stories of family outings, holiday gatherings, and stability of being in the same neighborhood all my life. My parents had rigid rules about marriage and children rearing. One of the rules was no fighting in front of the children. So many were the mornings when I would come into the kitchen and know something was terribly wrong but had no idea what caused this chill in the air. I knew my parents were having problems working through life's ups and downs.
My parents and their respected families were very different people. My mother's family is jovial, enjoys the holidays, embraces all children, informative constantly teaching children things of life, of how things work. Very accepting and always there to help. Some of my most fondest memories is joining grandpa in the garden and he explaining to me about gardening and pruning roses. Once listening to Grandpa advice a young man about class choices for college, my husband was impressed at the grasp Grandpa had on the jobs of the future. Grandpa read the newspaper every day along with National Geographic and Wall Street Journal. My grandfather was unusually kind to my grandmother. Every dinner, visit, outing was a grand affair. My mother's family regarded education very highly. Grandpa worked for Mobile Oil in the Los Angelas area. Every year as a child and then every year with my own children Grandma and Grandpa opened their huge home, made up big fluffy beds, cooked elaborate two-three meat dinners and invited us down for a Disneyland vacation. My grandparents were experts on everything Disney. Grandfather would set me down the night before a trip to Disneyland, map of Disneyland in hand and go over the path I should take the next day. He would explain in detail all the new exhibits, an account of the cost, difficulties in the construction, and what to be sure to observe. Grandpa always had a drawer full of Disney tickets. As family visited and left any extra unused Disney tickets went into Grandpa's drawer. There were always plenty of "A" tickets for the younger children, but few "E" tickets for the most daring rides. Life was to be lived, children were to be enjoyed, at grandma's house all things were possible and all children were precious. Mother was raised loved, cherished, and pampered.
To add to my mother's life and the how very loved, cherished, pampered my mother suffered physical pain, surgeries, hospital stays for most of her childhood. Mother suffered a fall as a small 3 year old child and contacted Osteomyelitis (osteo- derived from the Greek word osteon, meaning bone, myelo- meaning marrow, and -itis meaning inflammation) simply means an infection of the bone or bone marrow. It can be usefully subclassified on the basis of the causative organism (pyogenic bacteria or mycobacteria), the route, duration and anatomic location of the infection. 3–8 . Mother spent most of her childhood in a hospital bed or home isolated from others. Someone was always with mother, reading her stories, holding her as she healed after each surgery. The family knew mother was going to die. So nothing was too much for mother. Mother never had to do household chores, learn to read and write beyond letter writing, or worry about life's struggles. Mother's job was to be brave, endure, and enjoy company as a precious young lady.
Subsequently mother had a soul of gold, always took for the underdog, and was very needy for other people to keep her company. She had an appreciation for the finer things in life but always had deep empathy for a child in physical pain or deformity.