Infant Child With no Where to Go

The beginning of the most confusing story any one human should every have to face in one lifetime.




Well, I have read a number of apps and amazingly enough282042_2316441397330_3366262_n1 they were very much like books and they taught me a lot, unfortunately I still don’t know how to work WordPress, Just didn’t understand those apps.

I deleted the first three messes I made, I didn’t realize a blog is to be pretty much topical and something we are excited to write about. After a lot of thought and soul-searching I came up with a theory about a month ago that explained my life to me. That’s what I want to write about, the events of my life that I feel made and still make it a bit different from most but not all.

I can start by that great ol’ saying, ‘It sucks to be me’. (Giggle). Yea, giggles. There are too many reasons even at this age, 58, that still upset me. So, when I find that I can giggle about the insanity of my life as a whole, and know that God has been on my side since I was conceived, there are times when I am in awe that I am even still walking upright at 58.

I was conceived by a man who was enlisted in the army in 1959 but was far from a good example. The mate he chose was a lonely woman who already had two young girls from two different previous marriages. After their marriage everything fell apart when the secrets were released. Secrets of possible sexual abuse of her young girls and the fact also came out that he had two previous marriages… but he lacked divorces! After this was all on the table the fighting started. It was clear that I was an accident and not planned, considering I was five years later than her first two girls. That never concerned me. But, whenever, they would fight and that seemed to be often, he would storm out of her home; she would run out with me, following him to his car, for the purpose of tossing me into the car so he would take me away. Which he did. Straight to the Catholic Orphanage and dropped me off, every time. This went on consistently for the first eight months of my life.





“Hush little Baby, don’t say a word,

Mama’s gonna buy you a billy goat.

If that billy goat runs away,

Mama’s gonna buy you another day”.





We will say that Slim, the army guy who like the orphanage and small children,  did me a favor in a weird way by dropping me off at that orphanage. Every time, those beers were more important than his new daughter. Now, this is where the story could go different ways, but, I say this: I was dropped off so often the State of Oregon took custody of me from Theresa, but at the same time Theresa had made a phone call to Slim’s brother’s wife in San Diego, California, asking them if they would take me on as their own. Her brother-in-laws wife instantly put a land to sea call in for her deployed husband, Slim’s brother, James without hesitation. She asked him the same question, he agreed. Marilyn, James’ wife, ended up driving all alone from Southern California straight to Portland, Oregon to the Catholic Orphanage and picked me up. So, it figures to me that the state took authority over a small baby but was in agreement to allow me to be let go to an adoptable couple through the family with no problem. I must have probably been maybe six months old is my guess. My name at birth was given to me as Leilon Therese Maynard, Theresa had plans of my nickname being Lonnie.

Marilyn, was exhausted after a drive like that and trust me it was not easy for her to do a drive such as this. During the 50’s, early part, she was driving with her brother and mother in the car up in mountainous ranges. It was dark and she was exhausted, she fell asleep at the wheel, following her little ‘nap’ she went off the road and down the cliff the car rolled many times. They were travelling, I forget where, but I do remember it was a special trip. That old style luggage that used to be is what she had. A renegade ‘train-case  filled with toiletries such as, hair spray, lipstick, shampoo, etc. It was incredibly heavy, large and hard. It flew from the back of the car to the front and hit her in the head. I’ll elaborate later of the damage it did because no one had a clue as to what I witnessed of her little head shots of her CT-Scan near the beginning of her illness that took her from me.

Back to the story at hand. Now comes the stress, the courts, the lawyers, and the arguments and stories that made no sense, and my guess also very bad courtroom behavior start. But, in the end, there were winners and there were losers. One very angry Judge. One emotionally screwed up six-month old baby too. This will complete the post of “Infant Child with no Where to Go.” We will continue with a new post about the court proceedings and what will hopefully make another ‘complete’ post. Thank you for sharing with me.

Mary

 

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