Gotta love Sears
As I walk at nigh from Ms. Harley’s to my parents I think a lot. There are approximately 246 paces from her door to my parents door. Not exactly what one would consider the safest part of town. I have never understood why some people get scared when they see a sketchy individual walking towards them or behind them. It’s like you automatically assume their bad.
I always walk with a slow and casual walk sometimes just a stroll without a care in the world but I always am aware of my surroundings. It bothers me when I meet people who would never come to my parents part of town. It gets old dealing with people doesn’t matter the race, that like to blame someone. You have white people that feel black people are the cause of our city being so bad, and you have black people who blame the white people for the problems the city is in.
I tend to lean towards putting the blame on white people (around here) we have a public school system that isn’t the best which has a lot to do with people giving up and not wanting to deal with bad children. You have parts of this town where people refuse to put there children through public school for lack of education. But I’m off topic.
A lot of this has to deal with how I was raised. Being a lower class white family gives one a different out look on life. Never really got to hang around wealthy people or people well off. Didn’t get a whole lot growing up and if it was something substantial I worked cutting yards to come up with the extra money. Was given a car that didn’t run had to buy two other cars and rebuild the engine in one of the donors, eventually had a running vehicle.
My parents sat and scrounged to send me to a private school that might be equivalent to a public school in parts of this city. Being raised by them and the way I was molded me into an independent and self serviced individual. It’s also taught me to treat everyone the same no matter how they are or look. I am also a very giving person, but lately I start to wonder if I could just leave it all.
Not wanting to deal with my city and how people live I’m ready to just leave. If it wasn’t for Ms. Harley I’d be gone. Working on my Masters degree is just a time filler because I do not want to start working for a company to just up and quit when Ms. Harley is gone. She has become one of the best friends I’ve ever had and an important person in my life that’s not family.
So Ms. Harley (98) was having a hard time with her T.V. remote and her handheld house phone. So I went out and bought some paint markers and color coded the buttons she would need to use, needless to say she can operate things a lot better now after having a little lesson on what everything does and was for.
Ms. Harley turned 98 July 16 of this year and this is her brief story of how I know her. “I’m ready to die God’s just not ready to take me” Ms. Harley with a smile on her face.
Ok here goes, my brother used cut her yard when he was young, then my dad then me. About my Sophomore or junior year of high school she started asking me to do stuff for her in her house related to straightening up and cleaning etc. I also started working on her car 1974 dodge dart. When I was getting ready to graduate she asked me to do more. My sophomore year of college I had been going and getting her breakfast from McDonald’s on Saturday and Sunday as well as groceries on Sunday. My sophomore year/ junior year of college I took her breakfast one morning and I found her on the floor under her bed, Cut up. She fell out of her bed. The next day she cracks out and says ” It’s hard to die,… Then she smiles and chuckles.”
So I was then asked if I would mind coming over in the mornings before I went to school or work and just checking on her. Then the end of my junior year her house was broken into. I then started parking my vehicle at her house at night after I get back home from work or school and walked home from her house. Then it got to the point that I was going in and checking on her at night and in the morning.
She forcibly gives me money for helping her out. She is stubborn so I quit trying to not take the money and just accept the fact that she wants to do that for me. My fifth year of college got a little harder. She started be worried about getting into bed so she started asking me if I’d help her into bed at night.
Last fall I would go over her house every night and help her into bed and tuck her in. I’d go back in the morning and I would wake her up. Last spring same thing only now I was living in a rental house half way across the city. So driving ate up a lot of time but still checked on her every night, and helped her into bed. This semester is the same but a little different since my schedule sucks. So I have to have my mom go by there if I can’t make it.The longest I’ve been gone recently was 10 days and that proved to be hard. She wants me to travel but I don’t because I take care of her. When she passes one thing I plan on doing for her is traveling to everywhere she has told me to go see and then some.
She has 2 nephews, 1 great niece, and her niece has some children. I have met all of them once with the exception of one of the nephews whom I’ve met twice. They live in different states but don’t visit. If only they knew how much money they were going to receive when she passes away.
"I’d like the woman I asked to be my wife back." Can’t remember what movie. But this is how I feel right now. Got 16 months until the wedding and I already feel this way wtf. My worst fear right now is that this thing between us will stick after marriage. Who the fuck feels like this, this far ahead? It would be nice to be able to talk to the person I’m marrying instead of there mother, but oh well. On a better note Ms. Harley turns 98 in 10 days. :-)