Bff "Elvis"

Elvis   ♥

No pictures and no music links...just ♥.

As many of you, my loyal and precious readers (both of you) know, I am a gigantic and fanatic Elvis Presley fan. I own every song he recorded and I have duplicates of several. I have a lot of his movies, though not all of them. I have a few of his concerts on tape and CD and I do now and then, just have an all Elvis all day kind of day.

I once had an Elvis room in my home. Okay twice. I had a large collection of memorabilia that rivaled some of the museums I have visited. I still have a porcelain Graceland (his home) and have visited the real one in Memphis 4 times. I have the Elvis and Barbie dolls, some beautiful music boxes and have sold a good deal of the other fun stuff I used to display in my room. It was fun for a long time, but I was tired of it and kept only the things that I really love to have near me. Some special things that one day my grand daughters might like to share among themselves. That would make me very happy.

I not only think his voice was perfection, I love his gospel songs and the fact that contrary to what many people believe about his life, he was a deeply spiritual man. He believed he answered to God and that he would be judged. I listen to his gospel music often and sing along because it makes me feel so peaceful.

A love song sung by Elvis is a LOVE song. I have so many favorites that listing them would be ridiculous. I am particularly obsessed with “The Hawiian Wedding Song”, for two reasons. I love Hawaii, I love “Blue Hawaii” (one of his movies, for those of you who are uninformed) and both reasons make that song so romantic and so meaningful to me. Mike and I have spent several anniversaries in Hawaii and have always managed to hear someone do that song while there or we have played it ourselves in our hotel or car. It is a beautiful and loving song. “I do, love you, with all my heart.” The ending of the song.

I have several books about him. “Elvis and Me” by Priscilla Presley…very revealing and very good read for any fan. The complete book of his movies is another I love to read. The movies he was so disgusted with making because he wanted to be a real actor in a great movie, turn out to be some fluff and a few very good movies. “Blue Hawaii”, “Stay Away Joe”, “Charro”. “Love Me Tender” to name just a few of the really good ones. He made a very good western star as an Indian, Half-breed or cowboy.  And may I add, he made a very nice Hawaiian boy. J

Many people think Elvis was just a drug addicted waste and basically killed himself by overdosing.

The doctor who provided his basic care was called on the carpet but not prosecuted because Elvis got pills from several sources and since no one told him he couldn’t, no one told him he couldn’t do anything. He was Elvis and he could get what he wanted when he wanted it. I believe, he never thought he was endangering his life or his health. They were prescription drugs and I think he believed them to be safe. It is important to remember this is a southern boy with little education and scholastic endeavors were not his strong point. He didn’t drink and smoked only a short time because he felt they weren’t healthy. He practiced martial arts and earned several belts in Karate to keep in shape and to protect himself. In later years, he became an expert marksman for the same reason, self protection. He was a bit paranoid, but also had fans chasing him and hanging at his front gate relentlessly, so perhaps it wasn’t really paranoia.

This man lived a big life. He was rich beyond his imagination and could buy whatever he saw that he liked. He did that. To marry the girl he fell in love with he managed to get her moved into his home before the wedding, with her parent’s approval even though she was still a teenager, at the time. They shared a bed, but did not have sex until their wedding night. Priscilla became pregnant immediately and gave birth to their only child 9 months later on February 1, 1968. They seldom had sex after her birth. Elvis had a problem with intercourse with a mother, speaking volumes about his mother issues. He loved his mother more than anything or anyone and her death changed him and also removed his touchstone. She kept him grounded, without her, he was wild and careless. Priscilla left when Lisa Marie was a mere 2 years old. Elvis loved her until the day he died, but they never reconciled or even came close. They remained friends always.

There is no singing voice before or since that will immediately stop me mid sentence, to hear, to listen and to love this man and his amazing talent. He was a beautiful young man and a bloated and drugged middle aged man who still managed to look incredibly sexy and confident on stage, though he never felt confident in performance. He continuously wondered why people paid to hear him sing. He loved it, but never knew how incredible he was. He was a humble man, contrary to public opinion.

“Aloha from Hawaii” was a concert he did in the seventies for charity and now most fans agree, it was without question his best concert performance ever. He sang nearly every hit song he had in that show and each was done to perfection. He was heavy, he was sweating profusely and I still watch it and feel like a teenager watching her idol all over. The man is a one of a kind. Never before and never since, absolutely no one compares with his success or his talent.

A true national treasure. Southern born. Rags to riches. Served in the Army. Loved his God. Became a star far too quickly and was never handled correctly. He was used and marketed and unfortunately never lead and guided.

His run here was short, but the man lived. He lived and he left a legacy for my children, their children and all generations to come. His music is forever and my adoration of him eternal.

Rest in peace my inspirational singer. Thank you for the gift of my lifetime, the music of my life.

Jo

Our Journey

HOW DO YOU MEND A BROKEN HEART?
You move through it; you take a journey to happyland.


It was done. I had left my husband of nine years.

He came home from a few hours at the bar with his friends after work and a very small amount of his paycheck left. He had cashed it and spent a large percentage of it with his friends at a bar near his work place. This had happened many times recently and I could not abide anymore of it. I normally wouldn't start a discussion while he was under the influence, but I had had enough at this point so I began the conversation. It wasn't fun. It wasn't what I expected. I expected to tell him what I needed and for him to understand that I was serious and things had to change. I expected him to love me enough to make that happen, whatever it took. I expected this time to be the last time.

I told him that I could not pay the bills and put food on the table with less than half his paychecks. I told him I did not want to raise our children with an alcoholic. I reminded him that my own father had been an alcoholic and had quit drinking to save his life and I reminded him what a wonderful father and husband he had become since. I clearly told him this was the last time I would ever have this discussion. It was not the first. I clearly told him if he couldn't stay sober, I was leaving.

He yelled. He threw a heavy glass ashtray at my head. I ducked and slid down the wall. Out of the corner of my eye I saw our 5 year old son standing just outside the doorway. Horror on his face. Just as I was about to turn to my son, his father struck my face with his hand. It was a slap with the back of his hand, I think. It startled me and hurt like hell. Again I hit the wall, remaining upright this time. I said, "You will NEVER get a chance to do that again." It was just above a whisper.

I stopped speaking and so did he. He walked past me and put his fist through the kitchen cabinet on his way to the back door which he pushed so hard it hung from only one screw in his wake. The hole he left in the cabinet was terrifyingly big and all the way through. 

The minute he was out of the driveway, the very second he was gone, I ran to the kids rooms and grabbed enough clothes for a few days. I told them each to get a favorite toy while I threw some things in a bag for a little vacation. We left the house in less than half an hour. I was terrified and angry and brokenhearted and the saddest I have ever been in my life. The kids were nervous. They asked repeatedly if I was okay. The red mark on my face upset them and it was beginning to turn color within the hour. They asked if their daddy was going to meet us there, more than once. I repeated the same thing over and over, "No, Daddy isn't coming. He has somethings to work out and we're gonna just take a little break while he does that." I knew they didn't understand; I didn't want them to understand. I just wanted them to love both of us. Always. I just wanted my marriage to get back on track and my life to go on as it had before their dad decided drinking with friends was a lot better than hanging with us. Before he didn't care how much money he brought home. Before he started promising me weekly that he would not go to the bar this week with his friends at all; he'd be home every night right after work. Before I stopped believing him. Before I stopped being the most important thing in his life. Before I began to fall out of love. Way before I didn't care what he did anymore. Before it was too late. A short 2 years prior we had a good life. Now we had separate lives and there was no room in this new life of his for a wife and 2 kids. 


The next two years of our lives were beyond difficult. I made enough money to pay rent using three of my paychecks and the fourth had to pay all the other bills and buy food. I got no support from their father until the divorce was final a full two years and 6 months from the day I ran out of that house. That house that I once loved and believed we would grow old in, together.  From that I moved into a mobile home in a mobile home park with good neighbors and close to my work. I managed to double my hours at work and have a small amount of cash for clothing and school needs. My children learned about budgeting and they learned about loving each other through everything. We did without a lot of things they were used to having, but they really didn't seem to suffer except they missed having a TV, so I planned to get one as soon as possible and started asking around about a used one. A customer of mine and a friend of my boss offered me a TV while having lunch one day. No charge, he just wanted the kids to have one. Said it wasn't a great TV, but his wife had been wanting a new one so she had offered this one for the kids. I cried and thanked them a million times. I was so happy for them. It was the kindest thing anyone had ever done for us. A friend of mine brought a bag of groceries every now and then and just put them in the cupboard. My sister and her husband did the same. We had good friends and family. My parents were there with some cash I desperately needed and refused when I tried to pay them back. They made sure my holidays were something to be celebrated and not worked through. I was not alone. I had to keep reminding myself of that. My babies needed me to carry on and I was not alone. Some days that wasn't enough.


Their dad didn't show up for his scheduled visitation very often and then when he wanted to spend time with them, he would just show up and expect to be able to take them for a day or two or whatever suited his needs. I had a problem with that. I had a problem with him not parenting or calling or showing up for them. I had a problem with him hurting our babies and not being affected at all. I had a problem with him refusing to help me support them. He thought and said that he didn't give me money because if I needed help, I could come home. He didn't understand how much I wanted to come home. I could not. That life would never be MY life again.


Our journey, the one my children and I began the night we ran from our home, was difficult and valuable and memorable and probably the most precious of all our lives. I learned how to do whatever needed to be done and they learned that I would always be there. Always. I would be the one constant in their lives. They learned how to survive when life gets crazy and unpredictable and they learned that their dad was not a man they could depend on or trust. They could love him for who he is, but never expect anything more than what they had. A casual relationship. You can't make children understand that concept. They have to learn it by being hurt, more than once. 


To some extent we are still on that journey. I know my daughter has never really adjusted completely from her father simply divorcing her along with her mother.  Her job now is to protect her daughters from ever going through that kind of loss and sadly, she can't because their father is doing the same to his children. Divorcing his daughters to be with someone who doesn't need or want his children in her life. My daughter  loves her step-dad with all her heart and I am grateful, but it still saddens me that she doesn't even know her father. Once upon a time, he was a fabulous daddy, before ...


I also know that my son would have loved to rekindle as an adult a real father-son relationship. He tried. He reached out and made several attempts, but he failed to really reach his father. It could have been a "drinking buddies relationship," but that wasn't what my son was looking to have. He also loves and respects his step-father, but I know on some level, it hurts him that his father doesn't know or care about his grandchildren. 


So our journey does go on and for all the days of my life they will be my babies and anything they ever need or want from me will be done in some way. The end of this journey will not come until I am at the end of my journey. 


You mend a broken heart by living through it and coming out the other side, stronger.


Jo

Father's Day 2012

Though I have never been a father, I had one and I live with one and I divorced one, so I have some experience with what makes a good one and what makes a sperm donor just a sperm donor.

Having donated sperm, even if it's through direct deposit, does NOT make you a dad. It makes you the legal father and nothing more. If the laws were written truly with the child's best interest in mind, as they say they are, sperm donors would have zero rights. The reward for their donation was given at the time of the direct deposit. Nothing more is owed to them, in my opinion.

Now a dad is a whole different story. The man who holds the child to comfort or just to show love, the man who listens and advises, the man who teaches a child what a man is and how a man should behave, the man who didn't have to love yet chose to love is the dad. In some cases, this is the sperm donor, in some cases, not. It doesn't matter. In both cases, the dad is the man who loved the child unconditionally by choice.

My favorite childhood memory of my own dad is such a simple thing, one has to wonder why it stands out in my head. I was about 9 or 10 and got a giant chalk board for Christmas. My dad had written on it..."Merry Christmas to Joansy Lee Lee Settle". I don't know why that was such a big deal to me, but it was. I still recall the excitement of seeing those words written by Dad on my new chalk board. Silly? Probably, but it said my dad loved me. It said I was important enough to warrant his time and the sentiment was all for me. Only he ever called me that silly name and I loved it. I loved my daddy as most little girls do, but I was a Momma's Girl and still am. The outstanding things about my dad were not big deals; rather common everyday things. Long car trips would find us eating in diners along the road where trucks were parked, the best food would be found there, Dad said. The ever repeated, "If you have to use the bathroom, use it now, I'm not stopping in 5 miles!" meant nothing. If someone needed to stop in 5 miles, he would do so with a proper amount of grumbling and moaning about how he told us to use the bathroom and he wasn't happy now.  Every trip included backseat arguments because 3 kids in one bench seat for 7 hours to the grandparents house is going to include arguments. He would usually yell, "Shut up and enjoy this trip!"  That still makes me smile.  Somehow, shut up and have fun seems good advice, but maybe a different delivery would have been good!  Dad wasn't known for his finesse. 

Through most of my teenage years he was an absent dad. He drove truck and was gone most of the week. I have some memories of trips to town with him on week-ends to run errands. He didn't stop at the dime store, like Mom did, he just did what needed to be done and maybe got me a coke or candy bar, but no side trips. I liked going with him because he didn't treat me like a kid, exactly. It was more like I was his buddy for those few minutes that we were on the road. Hard to explain, but I liked it and I remember it. He sometimes let me drive home at age 14, but I couldn't tell Mom.

Unlike me, my kids were not raised most of their lives by their father. They were raised by their Dad. He chose to help me parent my children and I chose to help him parent his. We have no regrets about that. He is the man both my children refer to as their dad. He loves them the same as his own, they are his own now.  He walked my daughter down the aisle and he loves the grandchildren his step~children have given us exactly the same as he loves the grandchildren his genetically related boys have given us. I do, too. Our grandchildren are all our grandchildren.  It's a choice we made years ago with the birth of our first who turns 23 this fall.  (omg...23!)

I am eternally grateful to this man who shares my life and loves. Everyday he lives is a blessing to each of us in one way or the other. He has taken into his heart two children he didn't have to 'own'. He took on a very difficult job because he wanted to and he did the best job anyone could have done. In return, he has gained more love than he ever could give. He is respected and admired and honored for all he has given and all he is as a man, father and husband to their mother. He has earned this by being a good man with an unlimited capacity to love.

Happy Father's Day to him and our sons and to our father's who have gone before, our respect and love eternally.



Jo