I Cried A 1000 Tears …. 2

Drowned in emotional turmoil.....I cried a 1000 tears...... Bottled tears. ......stripped naked....finally nothing left...but tears...drowning you..

Drowned in emotional turmoil…..I cried a 1000 tears…… Bottled tears. ……stripped naked….finally nothing left…but tears…drowning you..

I Cried A 1000 Tears … 2 ..

“All my hurts …. My garden spade can heal
(Ralph Waldo Emerson)

As a family, we moved around quite a bit..not by choice. My father worked for a company that would move him around every couple of years. So, as children we, well I, never really made friends, and the friends I made were either back stabbers or just plain trouble. So as I got older, wisened by these facts of two faced girls, I chose my friends carefully.. I have 5 true friends, which I don’t see on a regular basis. I do know that they are a call away, anytime. 3 of these friends I made in school, and 2 more recently….well in the past 7 years.

GROWING UP IN THE 60’s and 70’s……

Nothing describes growing up in the 60’s – 70’s, than this extract :

Please note: This is not an original list created by me; it is a saved document of whom the original author I am not sure, but everything described by the original author is spot on to how I too remember life back then. To whomever this original author may be, credit to this person is recognized.

I Have Added My memories in ( )’s

Our baby cribs were covered with bright colored lead-based paints.

We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets.

We rode our bikes, we had no helmets.

As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags. Riding in the back of a pick up on a warm day was always a special treat.

We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.

We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this.

We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and drank soda pop with sugar in it, but we weren’t overweight because WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!

We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.

(In the villages I grew up in, there was a Gong that was sounded/banged every night at 9pm …..no one was allowed out on the streets after that…no one)

No one was able to reach us all day. And we were O.K.

We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.

We did not have Playstations, Nintendo’s, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 99 channels on cable, no video tape movies, no surround sound, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or Internet chat rooms WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!

We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.

We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.

We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, made up games with sticks and tennis balls and although we were told it would happen, we did not put out very many eyes.

We rode bikes or walked to a friend’s house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just walked in and talked to them!

(We didn’t have to keep the doors to the house locked all the time, you could always leave them unlocked and NO one would ‘break in’ or take the piss.)

Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn’t had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!

(Those who didn’t make it, had to make up the screaming/cheering/group of kids on the pavilion steps, lead by cheer leaders in funny outfits…well I thought they were…..I even think I was actually a cheer leader for a season – not by choice, I can assure you…….urgh, the thought..)

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!

We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned how to deal with it!

We were fortunate enough to grow up in a time before lawyers and the govenment regulated our lives for “our own good”. ……….

Brilliant………could not have put the above better myself…..

I also remember that:

We had wicked birthday parties, pin the tail on the donkey, musical chairs.
We looked forward to watching the latest movie down the club house on a Friday night……highlight of the week…..

……..we swam in rivers, the same rivers we would be fishing from…….we would all go camping, sometimes it felt like half the village would end up at the same camping sight…lol…..the village pykies – no disrespect intended to anyone reading this…….and yes it was like a convoy of camper vans and caravans…..and adults drinking beer whilst braaing the meat… I can actually smell it all…….the fire, the beer sprayed meat…..smoke in the eyes….

It was all care free, everyone knew everyone….neighbours were friendly. When new people moved into the village, our mothers would do a tray of tea, sandwiches and cakes or biscuits, and take them around to the newest members of our little society, and welcome them….now a days, well LOL, I think we manage an under the breath ‘hello’ , or a quick wave, then everyone ducks into their house…..

Nobody gets involved and no one wants to know anymore……it’s like we have become a society of ‘Not my problem’! It a shame…there is NO MORE personal communication, everything is technical now….we are even starting to behave like a piece of technology……think on that….we have no life anymore…….we work, go home, go to bed, get up, go to work,…and the cycle starts again, day in and day out……
Gone are the days of family get together’s where everyone sits and Talks …., and plays board games…on no, can’t live without a piece of technology velcrowed to ones hand or ear, or blaring in the back ground..

Sorry bit off the subject there……well, even though everyone knew everyone, and practically everything, that went on in the village…but what went on behind closed doors was a different story.

Fast forward…..Born in Zambia, had a wonderful childhood. Moved to Botswana when I was about 4/5…. Again, lovely childhood, apart from a bully that had it in for me,…..I can REMEMBER one specific situation, coming home from school in the minibus……..in Botswana, our village was encamped by high ..very high fencing and there was only one way in and one way out – through the security gate……well, this girl decided this specific day was pick on me day,….all I am going to say is I was man handled out of the mini bus by miss bully, shoved on the ground, and ended up walking the rest of the way home with a bloody nose, bit freaky, on my own, in the bush…….oh and I forgot to mention, half my hair was on my shoulders and clumps were in my hand….
I can’t remember what happened after that…it’s a deeply buried memory.

When I think back, besides the hidings I got for ‘misbehaviour’, this girl was the only other nasty that had been violent and horrible to me……..what a sheltered life we had lead……secure, safe, loved…….

My dad was a hard worker, scary sometimes, but I loved him.

The time then came for us to up and move stix Again….this time it’s was to South Africa….Natal …..I must have been going on 7yrs old, and we must have stayed in natal for a least two years as my brother was born there, and my memory recall has snippets from that time……more vivid memories start when my brother was 8 mths old….there is a ten year age span between us..

By the time we had moved to South Africa, all my dad’s family had up and left Zambia and had been settled there for years….

We had on occasions boarded a Dakota ….omg, Kotch machines in Afrikaans….we were handed blankets as you boarded the plane?? Why ?, you wonder….well you won’t believe me but once you got to your seat, you wrapped the blanket around you to keep warm, and, if you looked at the floor, you could actually see the ground, oh yes, there were gaps in the floors of the plane…….and it was bloody freezing….and gut wrenching…..the smell of vomit in paper bags does not ring a good memory……

Side tracked again…….well on occasions we did visit my dad’s family in S.A., if we didn’t stay at my gran and grandad’s house, we stayed at his brother and his witches house..

I never liked going to that house, as far back as I can remember, there was just something about him that scared the bejesus out of me. I didn’t know what it was, I just knew that I knew he was a nasty, and anyway, it was just a weekend…….and I was small…..

The wicked witch was just that……to this little girl, it was like looking up at someone who belonged to some special club or royalty……always had to have the best if everything…..always had to be the best cook, wear the biggest ring, omg, the list goes on…what I did learn as a little girl was to basically stay out of her way no matter the cost…..

But this littler girl was about to be given a humongous wake up call to life in the real big bad world….moving to South Africa changed her life, from innocent, friendly, helpful, loving and care free little girl, going on 7, Who was safe and loved and protected……..to a life which turned into becoming one big secret of promises, lies, deceit, humiliation, anger………

To a teenager, to an adult……….whom still carries the scars, who still suffers the torment, who is alone, who still experiences negativity and bad luck…….who is still trying to find herself ….

T B C …

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