My Roland has been through the mill too, virtually one whole side of has been stitched back together, he still has burn marks from where a childhood "friend" set him alight, one ears stitched on, as well as under one armpit and the crotch area, I cut his whiskers off about 10 years ago, well could go on but you get the idea :-)
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Despite that my granny kept trying to girl me up she got me a skateboard on my 14th birthday, since I'd wanted one ever since I saw the Crow when I was 11. And I loved it, even got to school and back on it sometimes. The roads were poorly maintained but I'd ride down them (no protection) and I got banged up a lot, as well as tossed into bull nettles and even stung by yellow jackets once over it (when I went flying into a ditch, so glad I never landed on a fire ant nest!). Over months I improved and I felt pride in it.
Then made to go back to Houston I found that at least with smoother, flatter roads that it was cakewalk, and at my school were "thrashers" who then started teaching me all the tricks, and because by then I was good on my board I started to pick them up fast. Many girls thought I was "cheating" and that I was only "pretending" to like skateboarding when actually I liked the boys, and plenty assumed I was being a slut with them since I didn't date anyone but was always with boys.
And then I ran away with my best friend. Of course I took my "skatey" with me (I've never heard 'em called that anywhere else so I put it in quotes). We met other runaways on a porch outside of C-House (Covenant) and they showed us how to get by. Enough were impressed with what I could do and thought it awesome that a girl could do it that I was called "Thrash." (Turned out to be problem later as a cop looked for a girl called "Thrash" and the point of names were to provide some anonymity so when he demanded to know where the GIRL called Thrash was, well that was only me.)
In short, it became part of my identity, and sometimes when I slept with my skatey beside me I felt a little piece of Granny with me, and felt loved even if I was on the streets. (I couldn't actually go to Granny's because Dad's family living in the same town would report me to Dad who would then challenge Mom getting child support which would mean Mom would have me returned. Plus, there was the whole issue of my best friend who had zero family there.)
And one day, on my 2nd month on the streets, I woke up to find it gone. I literally sobbed.
I wasn't able to get another one until I was 17, and the sting of losing that board has stuck with me, I can still feel it to this day. And maybe that's why I try hard not to get attached to things, though sometimes I still do (like a Che Red Star hat a friend got me for a joke, it made for some laughs & memories, but I purposely choose not to wear it at times hoping not to get too attached to it).
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I have a packet watch and a bible from my grandma.
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My granny was very liberal for a southern woman, back when I was little.
She bought me records, and any kind of toy I wanted...even though I didnt ask for much.
I have some of my stuffed animals from when I was little that she bought me. I have a Snoopy bottle, that held cologne in it from Avon that she bought me when I was little.
I didnt get anything from her house when she died though....I had an Uncle who went in and threw everything out before anybody even knew it. Nobody has anything to do with him now.
I would have loved to have her rocking chair and a Lassie vase I gave her for Cmas one time when I was little.
I was a collectaholic for years. I tried going into business on ebay right before "9-11", then afterwards I couldnt sell anything. Had to let $3500 worth of stuff go for $1200...cause I needed the money.
I still collect stuff now, but I limit myself to only a couple of "have to have's" a year. This year I bought a Garfield cake pan from the 1980's....never been used. Paid $5.00 for it on ebay.
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rats are best!
