I have pretty much been on my own when I’m sick. I know to keep certain things on hand “just in case.” You know, sick food. I never take any over the counter meds for colds or flu. Just some chicken soup, Jewish penicillin, bread for toast and tea. People from dysfunctional homes are usually on their own in these cases, even as children.
This was about the last time I had help when I was seriously ill. It was Christmas time 1958, I was seven, and I had just lost my dear Aunt Ruth. I sometimes wonder if I became deathly ill after she died so I could join her in heaven. I was just getting over Scarlet Fever and was still so ill I didn’t even care it was Christmas time, even though it was my favorite time of year. I can still remember the torturous feeling of being picked up, carried and being propped in a chair, suffering and delirious with fever but my parents insisted I should be with the rest of the family whether I wanted to be there or not and with no thought to the other children getting it. They just told them to “stay away from me.” From this picture, I don’t think they had to be told.
Me looking more like Dracula’s daughter than a child at Christmas.
I believe this act actually saved my life because I could feel I was trying to slip away from this world. Anyone who’s ever been seriously ill knows what I’m speaking of. I’ve had major surgeries and very ill at other times, even to the point of hospitalization, but this was something different. This was a feeling of complete detachment and readying of my spirit to go home.
Just say the name Tada to anyone in my family and they will tell you that was my imaginary friend when I was little.
I never had an imaginary friend of any kind. When I was only about 3 or 4 I loved performing for anyone that would watch, like most kids. I would always end the show with a loud “tada!” while throwing my hands up for the applause and accolades that were sure to come my way.
My mother, being the sarcastic person she is, thought she’d be funny and asked me “tada, who’s tada?” after one of my shows. Being the smart Alec I was I decided to tell her it was my invisible friend instead of just saying that I had no idea why I said “tada”. I must have heard it on TV or something.
I then began to run around and tell Tada to stop chasing me. They thought it was funny so I put on the act once in a while. My sister would ask me about Tada and instead of coming clean and saying there is no Tada, I just made up all kinds of tall tales regarding this fictional friend because people seemed to enjoy it. When I was about 11 or 12 I was fascinated by the occult and decided to have a ritual to finally get rid of Tada by taking one of our old plastic dolls, calling it Tada and going with my sister and some friends to bury her in a part of the local cemetery, not on top of a grave or anything. So I committed some act of sacrilege, no doubt, but Tada was gone.
Various members of my family delighted in bringing up the fact that I had this imaginary friend in front of my actual friends or extended family just to try and embarrass me and try to make me look like I was insane or strange in some way. I still continued the lie well into adulthood. Not that I still had a fake friend, but went along with anyone that I used to have one. Only recently did I tell my mom the truth and that she was the reason I started the lie to begin with because she made me mad by questioning me like that as a small child. We had a good laugh about it, but I still don’t think she believes me, which makes me laugh harder!
I’ve been wanting to have my own business for as long as I can remember.
The first job I ever held was door to door sales girl. I say girl because I was only 11 years old at the time. I was an avid reader growing up and devoured all books and magazines near me, cover to cover. For some reason I also read each and every advertisement in the backs of magazines. One day an ad for selling greeting cards door to door caught my eye and I knew I’d found my dream job! I thought, how easy can that be, to walk up to houses, show people various greeting cards, take their order and watch the money roll in. Feeling big for my britches, I had to fib a little bit when I ordered my free starter kit by telling them I was 18 because they must have had the idea that someone my age couldn’t handle it.
When the package arrived I hid it under my bed with some feeble excuse of what it was and started going door to door all over my neighborhood after school, so sure of my money-making scheme. After many days one neighbor finally agreed to make a purchase of a set of my cards, can’t remember which type. I must have taken some kind of deposit from the woman but when I came to my mother asking her to get me a money order or check to send to the company to actually place the order, she refused and became very angry. She told me how dangerous it was for a young girl to go door to door like that and told me to give the woman her money back. The woman may have felt sorry for me because my parents had a meeting with her and she agreed to take the kit off my hand for the deposit money because she said she didn’t want it back. The kit had a number of blank cards and envelopes she could use, and to further teach me a lesson and buy beer, my parents kept the deposit money and I never got a penny for all my wasted shoe leather. I think that’s one of the reasons I love them so much.
I’m not doing any better now trying to sell on the internet between websites no one can find and the cost of running any ads. How about you all?