Try, Try Again…

Jesus held a huge piece of my heart even before the age of four. I believe
God made this possible for me, so small but I fully understood that Jesus was my best friend. As He is now.

Yeah. If at first we don’t succeed…

I guess, when you look at it like this I have to admit that as a helpless human being with no way to protect myself or have an opinion of my own, I have to look back and even during that first year of life, I have to see God at work in my life, before I arrived as well as everything to come. The second chance was all about Him. There was no way with my luck that any good would have come out of such a situation concerning me. But, God saw to it that I was taken care of righteously in any case. Maybe that is the cause of my strong belief in God, when I was so little.

When Daddy was off on deployment, life was one way. When he was home, life was a different way. Mommy was my new Sunday school teacher, I learned to love Jesus, I just knew He was as a bright white light, too bright to see, purest of clean that you could just sense His purity, and simply humble ourselves before Him. He’s always there and He’s  always loved me and forever will care for me. God, Jesus, they would watch over my family, me and all that I cared about. This is what I learned of Jesus and God A.S.A.P.!

I remember in San Diego, dressed in my special Sunday skirt suit. Big bow around my neck to tie under my chin to give that mature, very dressed up look then you also add the little white Sunday gloves, black patent-leather shoes in the little Mary-Jane style, that also matched my tiny little patent-leather purse to hold my offering and my hankie on our Special Day. Along with that, I remember the second floor room that was darkened by the lack of larger windows and no flourescent lighting back in the early 60’s. Looking out the window down onto the street, noticing how wide the sidewalk was down in front of our church. My bible, purse and paperwork were under a chair very close to the window. I didn’t like the darkness of the room. I would sit as closely to the light that the small window would allow in, and appreciate the fact that I had a good seat for me that day. I was happy and felt at home at that young age in that Sunday school room with Mommy as my teacher.

All was good there.


New Home for Who?

Who, who am I? Who, who am i?

Onward toward life as I go…

I now reside in San Diego, I have received two new parents, a mommy and a daddy. They had a child to full term in the fifties but i was still born for reasons that wouldn’t happen in this day and age. My brother, who I owe a debt of gratitude to, is named Michael. I started feeling this even stronger toward Michael as I got older life got more clear as time went on. Without his precious and untimely passing, there would have been no need or desire to have me in this new home where I am now at.

My new mommy and daddy changed my name from Leilon Therese to Mary Janeen, I was issued a new birth certificate with them listed as my birth parents and my new names listed as my birth names but they didn’t change my birth date or my birthplace. I was introduced to my new daddy when he return from his 9 month deployment. But I never really got to bond with him, he did retire from the USN until 19

69. I was 9 years old by then. They couldn’t keep my original name for the first and middle names were chosen for the fact that they were meant to be named after my biological parents’ names. So, new mommy and daddy did the same thing only with initials, lol, Mary after Mommy and the J in Janeen after James for new Daddy. I was brought up from the beginning knowing the whole time that I had been adopted. Mommy always said I was special because I was hand picked. That, I didn’t just ‘happen’, I was actually ‘chosen’ and that’s what made me so special. She always stuck to that story. I never had questions, no curiosity, no wonderment. I never dreamed of ‘what if’s’ having to do with biological parents. This became ‘MY’ biggest mistake and made so

Meeting Daddy for the First Time
Sometime in early 1961 my new Daddy came home from his Deployment and he and I were able to meet each other for the first time.

Mama’s gonna buy you another day…

many and so much ‘my fault’! This whole this was a blessing beyond what you could imagine but when people get or got involved it turned into anything from being hurt badly or being grateful to a fault.

Once you realize the family dynamics of these four people and the new grandparents I’ve now acquired this will all become a lot clearer.


An Attempt at Rectification

A attempt to bring two mixed up good posts into one for a single thought to continue writing my blog about.

Leilon Therese Maynard Pre Eight Months of Age
Still residing with Theresa Jones, Tina Jones is behind the high chair, more on sisters soon. One of two photos of Leilon Therese Maynard, barely old enough to sit yet.

Well, out of five posts, I have deleted the first three. The two that are remaining are very similar. Yes, if this sounds familiar to days from when any of you were new to Blogging than you understand, I’m going to try to rectify the two posts that are very similar and make a little more sense out of them so I may find my story line. I do have one. My mind just doesn’t quit thinking of all the options I can think of.

Well, all the facts were very clear, most of what I wrote was to be before I was even found out about and even some years before that.

I will start by bringing the two first parts into this third part. First let’s get this on a track that is going somewhere. I would have never been able to escape the Social Phobia or the severe PTSD concerning people. But all the rest I have found at age 58 seems to me are ailments that came about because I didnt’ fit the mold of others’.

The facts that I know, have been researched by me over the years, slowly and pretty much out of necessity, are in my opinion the truth. I mean, one plus one is two, read between the lines, listen to the answers you do get, ask the right questions, etc. You can pretty much paint the pictures of life as it ‘would’ have been, ‘could’ have been and now I look back and wonder why it had to be so messed up. I even had an epiphany as to why things got so bad and it was saddening to see how I was treated all my life.

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.




Gosh, I wasn’t a glimmer in anyone’s eye and after a lifetime of putting everyone’s stories together, I have to say the ignorance of birth-control in the 1950’s and ’60’s was rampant. Any how, a single woman with two little girls, just two years apart, both from different father’s, and a grandmother known as Nanny made up the nucleus of half of my beginning. The other half is made up of dark secrets and emotional downfalls. Theresa Dahlberg Seitz from Wisconsin landed in Oregon, Portland to be exact. There, their family congregated and lived until they went to be with the Lord.
Theresa had her mother, a sister and brother. Dede, Theresa’s younger sister, who is now gone from us, had something in common, only thing ever that I could come up with, but funny coincidence, both sisters had their last marriages to men with the last names of ‘Jones”, so, it kind of leaves you thinking they were going by their maiden names. No, they just ended up with men that shared the same surname. Their brother, Ludwig, who went by Uncle Lucky never did or would speak to me by letter, phone, or the famous social website, so I have no opinion on this man whatsoever. But, suspicion would cloud my judgment, currently. I think maybe that’s the best. They all came west, settled into a new lif. I do know Theresa would search out seasonal work, so she then could collect unemployment in the off season, this is what I learned of Theresa, I cannot say this about Aunt Dede. But, they spent all their free time walking in Nanny’s shoes, drinking constantly. There was never a ‘let-up’. They could have lived longer, maybe they didn’t want to, I don’t know. While in Oregon, Theresa married Tina’s father, my oldest half sister, then came another husband and so did my second sister Brenda. They were about two years apart. This is actually way mixed up, my first two entries.  I’ll improve,  forgive me.