Tag Archives: family

A lot on my plate…

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I could write details of the continuing story of a mother’s lament at her daughter joining the ones contributing to the “end of the world” — the entitlement seekers, transgender musician patronisers, etc. — but I want to spend time on my storyline, instead.

Besides, we have to live within our conscious conscience our own way.

The daughter thinks helping people is coercively redistributing the wealth of others for politically-advantageous charities. The mother thinks helping others is deciding how to spend one’s wealth wisely on personal charities. Their thoughts are the same but different, both having built careers in the field of publicly funded primary education, one who felt most helpful guiding the intellectually gifted, the other feeling most helpful guiding the socioeconomically disadvantaged.

Mine is relating the events of a universe much like ours in linked short stories and stop-action videos for the entertaining enlightenment of others.

Right now, however, the warmth of egg nog soothes my stomach and eases my thoughts toward sleep.

Until tomorrow, then!

Belief systems and families

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The last time the remainder of my “nuclear” family got together, my sister gladly rejected the belief systems of her/our parents, making my mother sad and me angry at my sister for emotionally upsetting our mother.

The question I have to answer for myself — do I ever want to speak to my sister again?

Do I want to keep away from her (and her away from our mother) because she resoundingly rejected our parents who sacrificed their time and love for us?

My wife’s mother died more than a year ago, changing my perspective of family.

My father died this year, changing my mindset about life in general.

My wife and I have no children, only nieces and nephews who will be responsible for our care, should we live into our senior citizen years.

They say that blood is thicker than water but now that my mother in-law and father are gone, I can consider thoughts that I buried deep inside me a long time ago.

My sister was my rival from the moment she was born.

She clung to me wherever I went for many years so, as a result of my jealousy, I did everything I could to get her in trouble with our parents instead of me (and it worked most of the time).

I could not get rid of her until I started school.

Even then, we saw each other every day after school and usually on the weekends so, of course, I did everything I could to get her in trouble instead of me (and it worked most of the time).

For decades now, our belief systems have drifted further and further apart, reminding me of my early childhood experience where my sister was a rival for our parents’ love.

Now that my sister has demonstrated she is not interested in perpetuating our parents’ teachings, should I just tell her goodbye and let her drift off and away from our family’s core beliefs?

Every generation decides what the previous generation’s contribution to society was worth.

My sister and I hold different opinions on this matter.

I have many thoughts to consider before making a major decision about my relationship with my sister while my mother is still alive, especially with the holidays coming up.

More as it develops…

…yet they still don’t know how to drive a car!

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Using a few ballpark figures, I calculated that in the years we’ve had our two Cornish Rex cats (14 years for the first and 13 years for the second), we’ve spent at least $20,000 (I underestimated, I’m sure).

Wet food, dry food, cat litter, toys, treats, food/water bowls, litter boxes (plastic pans, covered boxes, electromechanical “automatic cleaning” boxes and plain cardboard boxes with plastic liners), cat carriers and medical care combined.

Not to mention developing/storing photographs, washing/drying bedcovers, shampooing the carpet and the cost of tapwater for all of the above, including for drinking.

In cat years, our feline companions are in their senior/elderly phase.

One is covered with “liver spots,” displaying two crooked ears from cat fights.

The other teeters and totters after his latest bout of vestibular disease, he, too, with a crooked ear (from an ear infection).

A couple of mouse-munching, cricket-crunching warriors.

They are unaware of our wars and national elections.

They warm up to us on cool days like this one.

They, like the redbud tree outside, teach me that the obsessions and vivid imaginations of our species are minor in comparison to the actions of the grander universe.

Yet they exist because of our species…

…our desire for change within our comfortable sameness.

A thought to remember again and again when members of our species get out-of-hand and seem out-of-control.

 

Sunk costs

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After spending thousands of dollars on our two pedigreed Cornish Rex cats in their 12-plus years with us, I ask myself, “Should we fund a local homeless shelter/soup kitchen for a day or pay for MRI/CT tests on one of our cats to determine if he has a brain tumour?”

I know how much one will benefit the local economy.

The other is an unknown.

I have never been completely homeless, with a network of friends and family that has supported me my whole life.

In a couple of hours, I’ll donate blood plasma to help the national disaster relief.

That action alone answers my original question.

A question poses two answers.

There’s at least one more [implied] answer: neither.

“What’s next?”, asked a pastor, “More of the mundane?”

Sometimes, yes. Time to buy toilet paper and cat litter after a hardy breakfast served by Jenny.

Maybe later, post the results of a google analytics website that popped up on this wireless connection to a public WiFi hotspot.

Tomorrow, perhaps, the promised stop action video.

Is there an echo in here, here, here?

Regardless…

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Disregard, irregardless, regardless, doesn’t matter.

The use of symbols today seems pointless.

The future puts pressure on this moment.

The future?

Imagined plans, developed schedules, partial goals completed.

A cat warms by the electrically-heated oil radiator, a cat which suffers a vestibular disorder and wobbles like a kid stepping off a merry-go-round.

Funny, how events align — the start of a cat’s dizziness, the dizzying effects of a hurricane — one affecting me more than the other but both having economic impact.

13,701 days to go.  Time to write another story within the story of our lives…

Subjects and Objects

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In domestic news lately, political candidates have, in the course of speaking, in the cause of getting elected, voiced personal opinions about rape.

Most of the time, men rape women.

Some of the time, women rape men.

But, for the sake of this blog entry, let us consider only the first case.

I have a personal stake in this discussion.

Quite possibly, I exist because my grandmother was raped by my biological grandfather.

Certainly, family lore says that my biological grandfather abused both my grandmother and my father before he abandoned them (or was forced to leave them).

Every day on this planet, without a doubt, a man forces himself upon a woman for sexual pleasure.

He may pay for the privilege or take his pleasure for free.

Men, for the most part, are physically stronger than women and rarely sexually engage a woman stronger than them.

I agree that rape is a terrible injustice for the raped as well as for the institute of marriage and against the joys of consensual sex.

But, in the eyes of an omniscient being (or Being), am I a gift of/to God because of rape?

Am I, instead, merely the lucky offspring of a man who was the unfortunate result of a rape?

I do not exist in the public eye as a celebrity who feels driven to share opinions constantly or an expert authority who must answer questions about the validity of abortion.

However, I have an opinion about myself.

I like me, for the most part.

I have enjoyed my life.

I can understand my father wanted nothing to do with his father and all but forbid me to contact his father’s family until after my father was dead and buried, especially if he was the result of a rape and subsequently abused physically/mentally.

It’s tough for me to believe my grandmother could have aborted my father if she was raped.

Being a staunch member of the main (Central) Baptist Church in her community, she probably never considered abortion, but I have no way of knowing her thoughts/opinions on the matter, other than through her general opinions/actions in relation to her Christian faith.

I only know I exist.

I like existing.

I suppose most of us do.

Those who were aborted or will be aborted never get to know if they do or do not like existing.

Those who choose abortion have made and make that decision for their offspring.

A mighty BIG decision I never have to make.

I exist.

I hope you like existing.

If you don’t like existing, I can understand why you wouldn’t want the fertilised egg in your womb to exist.

If you do like existing, I can’t understand why you wouldn’t want the fertilised egg in your womb to exist.

We exist and choose to accept the legal/moral/social/religious issues surrounding our decisions.

To say one wants the freedom to abort a fetus is as grave a desire as there is in this world, more important than any words that can be assembled together in one blog entry.

I can’t change the circumstances of my father’s conception but I’m just glad my grandmother didn’t abort my father, no matter whether she was raped or abused before/during/after sexual intercourse.

Love is a many-fickled thing

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The smartphone and the tablet PC tell me today is the 24th of October in the year 2012.

I’m trying to fathom what that means.

Locally, while I sit in the sunroom area of an Arby’s restaurant that used to house a Dairy Queen franchise, American country and western music plays through an overhead speaker — “You’re listening to WDRM,” a disembodied voice tells me.

Cars and trucks pass by on Highway 431. I use the open WiFi hotspot of the Lowe’s store across the highway to write/post this blog entry.

A couple of jet contrails colour white stripes on the blue sky.

A restaurant manager greets customers and picks dead leaves from the potted plants, talking to them as much as she talks to her employees like Philip and Gavin.

Politicians want my vote very soon.

Last night, my wife and I talked to a young lady, 28 years young, a former classmate of my nephew.

She faces the dilemma of whether to marry her 40-year old boyfriend, an FBI agent who likes dangerous situations and will probably rise in the ranks of management one day.

He, like many I know in law enforcement and the military, leads a very well-regimented personal life — eats the same breakfast, same snacks, same lunch, same dinner; washes clothes at the same time on the same day every week; cleans the toilet a specific way with a specific cleaning solution.

He is what I call a B&W Man — everything has its place, sharp contrasts between light and shadow.

There are no gray ambiguities.

She wonders, “Is he just looking for a baby machine, no room in his life for me except to give him children to fill what little open time he has allocated in his daily regimen for interruptions to his FBI-centred lifestyle?”

The young woman is slim, trim and fit.

She could easily model clothes for a department store catalog.

In other words, she has the looks and the personality to charm any man, if she wanted.

She is 28, though, no longer 21, 22, 23, 24…

She wants to bear and raise four children.

She has an adult life of her own and questions how much she would have to compromise her life, go against her father’s wishes to marry a stable “company” man (no, not that company, the other one), a boyfriend who has little more than a late-night, long-distance phone call relationship with her now.

Good question.

Would her marriage, her husband, be as regimented as her long-distance relationship is now, or might as well be long-distance in emotional support after their matrimonial ceremony is complete and they’re sharing the same house while achieving the same shared dream/goal of four kids?

At 28, it’s not too late to start a family.

But the biological clock is ticking.

The boyfriend asked her father for her hand in marriage and the father did not give it.

They’ve dated four years.

The boyfriend was more of a courting gentleman until he won her heart.

Now…?

She’s become part of his regimen, same breakfast/snack/lunch/dinner/girlfriend, in that order.

How long do they string this out until she says yes to him and opposes her father’s wishes?

Many of us have had long-distance relationships, absence making the heart grow fonder…for a while.

And then…?

Is the love of your life a key part of your detox after a rough spell, or a hindrance/annoyance to your recovery?

How important is your family’s blessing?

Are you willing to face the known (he’s stable but he’s not like your father) unknown (he’s stable but he’s not like your father) in order to have four children?

What kind of family life do you want your kids to have?

Do you want a husband who’s willing to fling himself into harm’s way to protect his B&W Man worldview?

If your kids’ father died during a SWAT raid, then what?

Would they have received enough of their father’s love?

What, exactly, is love?

All of us die, eventually.

If your spouse dedicates himself to his job, no matter what it is, giving more time to his kids than to his wife (his kids’ mother), is that a bad thing if your domestic life is safe and secure from harm the spouse is willing to face on their behalf?

Can this young woman see that marrying the B&W man will not end her parents’ love for her, even if it now becomes a long-distance one?

She can have her own life with kids, like many a parent does, in a strange town with new friends to make, while the other spouse works long hours and travels when duty calls.

At 28, does she want to?

Can she thrive when her beloved father, mother, siblings and childhood friends are just a phone call away?

What assurances, besides her boyfriend’s declaration of love (if not a willingness to meet her halfway (in her eyes)), will give her the strength to commit?

What is love? Love is faith that you’re making the right decision in the moment and willing to admit you made a mistake later on.

Marriage is like that, too, if you’re willing to nurture the relationship, given the obstinacy of most personalities after the vows are exchanged, putting the bigger goals ahead of the smaller squabbles, allowing each spouse the space one needs, the space that expands and contracts with the daily stresses we face inside and outside of marriage.

Some relationships, whether in the privacy of a phone call or the bedroom, are long-distance in nature.

Love is recognising the distance, respecting the boundaries and facing the consequences with open arms.

What are four children worth to you?

How about a B&W Man who keeps a pretty tight leash on his emotions protected by a thick Kevlar shell against on-the-job harm never far away?

Can your open, loving emotions accept the difference?

Bottom line: not every father is a law enforcement/military B&W Man, but you’re not marrying your father, are you?

Are you?

An Incomplete Blog Entry

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[saving info here for safekeeping until offline storage is available]

Sorry, this may be a little confusing, let alone incomplete, in its current form

From familysearch.org:

James Horace Capps, born 17 Sep 1914 , Union Co., TN, died 1985

Parents

father: George Sterling Capps (AFN: 3XV3-CDH )
mother: Mary Alice Rucker (AFN: 3XV3-CZ1 )

Submission

submitter: sbradley2729907
submission date: 12 Feb 2001

(615) 687-6809. Graduated from the University of Tennessee as an electrical engineer. Later worked for General Electric.

Source Citation

“Pedigree Resource File,” database, FamilySearch (http://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.2.1/93LQ-V52 : accessed 24 October 2012), entry for James Horace Capps.

 

1940 census, Davidson County, Nashville, Tennessee, Ellen Avenue

–          Sara (Sam?) Bradley, age 33, head of household, superintendant of construction, , born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Estle (Estelle?), wife (m. 1927), age 33, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          George Capps, father in-law, age 63, married, resided in Knoxville in 1935, laborer, construction co.

1930 census, Union County, Tennessee

–          George S[terling] Capps, age 53, head of household, farmer , born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Alice, wife, age 47, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Effie, age 17, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, Harace (Horace?), age 15, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, Charlie, age 13, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Gertrude, age 10, born in TN, both parents born in TN

1920 census, Union County, Tennessee, part of 4th district, Maynardville, TN

–          George [Sterling] Capps, age 43, head of household, farmer, born in TN, both parents born in TN [born about 27 June 1876], [second spouse: Roda] ((d. 27 May 1957) Had blonde hair and blue eyes. Lived on farm in Hickory Valley in Union County, TN. Farm currently owned by Herman Smith Family. Farm on Hickory Valley Road off Norris Highway between Knoxville and Oak Ridge., buried Lynnhurst Cemetery, Knox Co., TN)

–          Alice (Mary Alice Rucker (Rollins?)) Capps, wife, age 35, born in TN, both parents born in TN [born 27 Feb 1883, Union/Claiborne Co., TN], d. 10 Jan 1963 (Mary Alice had black hair and black eyes , buried Lynnhurst Cemetery, Knox Co., TN)

–          Son, John, age 17, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, Paris, age 16, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Estelle, age 12, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Ethel, age 10, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Effie, age 7, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, Horace, age 5, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, Carley, age 2, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Gertrude, age 8/12, born in TN, both parents born in TN

1910 census, Campbell County, Tennessee, Civil District 2

–          George Capps, age 33, head of household, farmer, born [27 June 1875 (1873?)] in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Alice Rucker Capps, wife, age 25, [m. 10 April 1901] born [about 1885] in TN, both parents born in TN

–          John Rollins, grandfather, age 86 [born about 1824], born in TN, both parents born in TN

1900 census, Claiborne County, Tennessee , Civil District No. 13

–          [Sterling] Jacob Capps, age 52, born June 1847, head of household, farmer, born in TN, both parents born in TN [d. 6 June 1934]

–          Rachel M[anervy] Capps, wife, born July 1851, age 48, keeping house, born in TN, both parents born in TN, [d. 13 Dec 1922]

–          Son, George S. Capps, age 24, born 1877 (or June 1875 [same as one born 27 June 1875 (1873?), died 3 Jun 1975, Knox Co., TN? Father: Jake Capps, Mother: Minerva Caldwell?]), farm laborer, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, William M., age 20, born July 1879, farm laborer, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Mary F, age 17, born Dec 1882, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, John, age 15, born Apr 1885, farm laborer, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Cora D., age 12, born Apr 1888, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Bertha A., age 9, born Feb 1891, born in TN, both parents born in TN

1880 census,

–          Jacop Capps, age 29 [born about 1851, died 6 Jun 1937], head of household, farmer, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Rachal M. Cardwell, age 29, wife (born about 1851, m. 19 Jun 1870, d. 1922), keeping house, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Sarah E., age 9 (born about 1871), born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, Benjamin J., age 7 (born about 1873), born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, George S., age 5 (born about 1875), born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, William M., age 1 (born about 1879), born in TN, both parents born in TN

1870 census, Claiborne County, Tennessee , 12th Civil District

–          John Capps, age 55, born about 1816, farmer, cannot read/write, born in TN

–          Catharine [Catherine “Cassa” Snuffer, m. 12 Dec 1834] Capps, age 46, keeping house, cannot read/write, born in TN

–          Rachel Capps, age 32, cannot write, born in TN

–          Son, Jacob, age 19, cannot read/write, born in TN [born 23 Jun 1850, Grainger Co., TN, d. 6 Jun 1937]

–          Daughter, Rachel, age 18, born in TN

–          Daughter, Esther, age 13, born in TN

1850 census, Claiborne County, 7th Subdivision

–          John Capps, age 34, farmer, born in TN

–          Cassa [Catherine “Cassa” Snuffer, m. 12 Dec 1834] Capps, age 29, born 1824 (Claiborne Co., TN), d. 5 Aug 1886, Claiborne Co., TN

–          Daughter, Rachael, age 13, born about 1837, born in TN

–          Son, Michael, age 11, born about 1839, born in TN

–          Son, John, age 8, born about 1842, born in TN

1840 census, Grainger County, Tennessee

–          John Capps, head of household, [born 1816, d. 1880, Claiborne Co., TN]

–          1 free white male under 5

–          2 free white males 15-19

–          1 free white male 20-20

–          1 free white male 50-59

–          1 free white female 10-14

–          1 free white female 15-19

–          1 free white female 50-59

–          1 person employed in agriculture

–          2 white persons over 20 who cannot read/write

–          5 free white persons under 20

–          1 free white person 20-49

–          8 total free white persons

–          8 total all persons – free white, free colored, slaves

John’s parents:

–          Williams Capps Jr. 1788-1840, Grainger Co., TN

–          Mary Botts (m. 1830), 1795-1850, Grainger Co., TN

William’s parents:

–          William Capps, Sr., born 1762 (Hickory Valley, Union Co., TN Colonial era), died 1840 (homestead on Black Fox Creek, Union Co., TN)

–          Rachel Smith (m. 3 Feb 1781, Union Co., TN), born 1765 (Orange, Chatham Co., No. Carolina, Colonial era) d. 1840 (homestead on Black Fox Creek, Union Co., TN)

William’s parents:

–          Thomas William Capps, born 1762 (Mecklenburg Co., No. Carolina, Colonial era), [marriage to Lovy Barrington, 5 Feb 1784], d. 1785 (Thorney, Thorn Hill, Union Co., TN)

–          Elizabeth Jane Wagstaffe (m. 10 Apr 1748, Dean, Bedfordshire, England), 1723-1783

Thomas’ parents:

–          Thomas Cave Capps,  born 1700 (England), d. 1731 (North Carolina, Colonial era)

–          Elizabeth Lucas, born 1699 (Bedfordshire, England), d. 1766 (North Carolina, Colonial era)

The Feeling is Mutual

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Dust and skin oil collect in the rounded corners of the touchpad.

Tiredness fights for the right to take this body to bed and slumberland.

One brief moment, where a sole statistic, the number of teen/young adult suicides, helps decide an election.

A prime minister clicks her heels and ends up sprawled in front of the Gandhi memorial — she’s not in Kansas, that’s certain — why does she wear high(er) heels to walk on grass?

A tree faces the wind without a face.

How does schooling teach teamwork rather than individual test score achievement?

A nephew has a private discussion with a Supreme Court Associate Justice (Scalia), (con)firming his decision to pursue a law(ful) career, setting political beliefs/opinions aside.

Sleep is a stronger attraction than sighting/siting/citing the future.

The next chapter races dreams for a place in this blog…