PENHEARTSHIP...

"The pen is mightier than the sword

and considerably easier to write with."

Marty Feldman

Once upon a time singing was my passion.  The voice lost out when someone in a car larger than mine failed to stop at a 'large enough to see' red stop sign and almost made mince-meat out of me.  The voice became quite froggy and that was that.  

I had always loved writing letters and that love became my new passion...I feel it was a gift from God and have done my best to use it as I think He would approve.  

I also love pens...mostly a medium to heavy point and these days they are ballpoint, gel.  I have a 'familial tremor' just as my father had and for many years I lost control of a steady hand and my writing was hardly legible.  Happily, medication controls my tremor; my handwriting is good once again.  

Like you, there have been many phases in my life.  Here I am on this day, November the third, celebrating my eighty-ninth birthday.  A new age and I am a widow.  How about that?  I've written about Michael for such a long tine now...what will I write about in this new phase of my life?

My mother says I was born 'asking questions'...exaggeration of course but I have always been inquisitive and asked lots of questions.  I am not a college grad; felt I had no idea of what I wanted to do (I was 16 when I finished high school) thus I elected not to try it.  

At the tender age of 13 I began working out...as in helping new moms when they came home w/their sweet, little angels...as in cooking and helping keep things neat and tidy.  Also worked in a drugstore as a soda jerk and selling cigarettes.  Yes, at the ripe old age of 13...before all the federal rules...hey, it was war time.  Rode the public bus to school and to work.  My bus route served two defense plants.  

Mother gave strict instructions for me to come straight home from school; I didn't always follow them.  My grandparents lived not far from the bus route...tempting, 'cause I loved visiting them.  Then there was that ice-cream place which lured me...I always ordered a black and white sundae...a scoop of chocolate with marshmallow sauce beneath a scoop of vanilla ice cream covered with chocolate sauce w/whipped cream and a cherry on top!  Could you have resisted such a lovely concoction?  I certainly couldn't and didn't.  Did I get into trouble for it?  Of course...but it was so worth it.  

We colored oleo w/a small yellow capsule.  We had stamps for shoes, etc.  For enough gas stamps to be able to drive over to my grandparent's home for a visit...enough to drive to worship each Sunday...enough to visit my aunts, uncles and cousins...enough to visit my aunt who worked for Alfred Hitchcock...my dad worked two jobs.  And he, who had suffered rheumatic heart as a child, was not supposed to labor.  He never gave up doing what he was told not to do...he was a worker!!!   Those were my years during the war...the Big war.

As for Michael, he drove a delivery truck route for the bakery owned and operated by his grandfather and his father.  Imagine driving a country road in a little old jalopy, delivery truck.  What a sight he must have been and as I recall he had no accidents.  

Michael and I were both the eldest in our respective families...we learned our lessons well.  We watched our parents - we remembered and mimicked their actions...to a degree.  After all, we had our own individualities, right?  Of course.  Both of were raised 'attending bible class & worship.  Michael's father became a Christian years and years before mine.  My dad didn't attend church but he encouraged mother to take the five of us and she did so faithfully; my dad also encouraged us to be liberal givers...his encouragement worked.  

Michael attended college for two years.  His father gave the ultimatum that M would go to Abilene or nowhere.  M thought he wanted to be a Vet so he gave Abilene two years and that was it for him.  What it gave him though was a new incentive...the military.  Of course, the reason he ever joined the National Guard was so he could stay out on Monday nights past curfew at college!  He liked to date the girls...whoosh!  

On the other hand, I educated myself in a variety of ways.  Clerk at a motor freight line, an oil-well supply company.  I moved myself to California and was hired by Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Glendale.  That's where many of the movie stars are interred...my job was to keep track of where they were!  Wore a navy blue dress uniform - wore blue pumps, hose.  Sedately coiffed hair - no jewelry!  Lots of rules!  

Seems after that stint I'd had enough and moved back home - Odessa, Texas.  When I walked back into my parent's home there was a beautiful Easter lily plant for me with the cutest bunny face all full of smiles from no other than Sgt. Michael Beall who had come to visit only to find me in California.  I just barely missed him and oh, was I ever sorry about that...boo hoo...hoo! 

While M was on the frontline of Korea in his tank, the Shamrock, I commuted to Midland - working for Atlantic Refining as a statistician; my second career was writing and answering love letter...SWAK (Sealed With A Kiss).  

Our Love Story was born...it was well fed, from a bud it blossomed, bloomed into a fantastic love story that grew richer as it aged...sixty seven years, three months and seven days later Michael took leave for the heavenly place he needed and longed for.  

I will never tire of writing about Us and Our Love...However I have moved into a new chapter in my life...one that's foreign but I plan to do my best...that's what I plan.  God willing, I want to continue encouraging others...that's really what I feel compelled to do.  I want what God has done for Michael and for me to reach out and touch others for God.  I want to be used by Him.  I give God all the glory...every bit of it.  Because...He has given me the very best things in life that He knew I needed...icing on the cake?  Michael, my love!  Yes!   

Next posting will begin the new chapter.  I pray you'll stick with me...I need your encouragement!

From my loving heart...to yours, Vasca