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for over a week with no sign. It is amazing how much you
can love a $10 chicken and I have convinced myself that the
neighbor stole him and he is living in her mansion!
Although I waited until we got back from our trip to North
Carolina, I am the proud owner of a new pet chicken that I
have named Amos Moses. My new chicken likes to be pet-
ted and never craps his bed which is a first! We found out
that Amos’ mother had been snatched up by something when
he was young which may be the reason for his odd behav-
ior. So far we have found that he loves raisins, almonds, and
turkey breast but won’t touch dogfood which Memphis loved.
He loves to play with toys and he talks very quietly, whereas
Memphis screamed. When we go somewhere we just leave
Amos in the house. He’s normally a “kitchen chicken” but
sometimes when we come back he is on top of the TV with my
trophies or sitting on the couch. I have yet to find him drinking
coffee but he did snatch a piece of ribeye and eat part of my
baked potato one day off of my plate!
With my mother dying and my brother finally having to “pay”
for something as he has lived his entire life without doing so, I
have done a lot of soul searching. In losing something I never
had- a loving family, I have gained something that I so des-
perately needed- peace. The peace has given me a sense of
belonging and knowing what I am supposed to do in this life.
I have always joked to people if they knew where I came from
that they would be amazed at how well I turned out and that IS
the honest truth. In the grieving process I have realized that I
received the BEST of both of my parents while my brother is
the worst of them combined. From my mother I received the
gift of frugality, finding joy in picking berries, digging up free
flowers alongside the dirt roads or just singing in an off-tone
key every morning.... From my dad I received an uncompro-
mising work ethic and the memory of him saying “Never rest
on your laurels”.
Maybe my parents did the best they could do. My dad was
born in 1918, quit school in the 8th grade, enlisted in the Army
just like his four brothers and fought in World War II. He didn’t
want to stay in touch with old “Army buddies”, he received a
Good Conduct medal and never mentioned the war. Both
parents smoked; I have never lit up a cigarette. Neither of
them drank nor used drugs and I have bid my fair time with
both.
My dad loved to cuss, had a lot of artistic ability and built our
house, the house that was at the root of the estate battle, by
hand, on land that he purchased with cash. He participated
in his favorite pastime- fishing the Buffalo National River. He
loved his 1969 Ford Torino that he had owned forever and
his Ford F-150 4x4. My dad was a smart man and he was
meticulous with keeping both of them clean as we were not
allowed to eat or drink in either of them. He kept the two acres
of “front” yard maintained as my cousin would later describe
“as something that could be featured in a magazine”.
My mother loved thrift stores and finding bargains. She didn’t
understand people who gambled and she tried to save a pen-
ny everywhere she could. She never learned to drive and
didn’t learn to balance a checkbook or pay bills until my dad
died. We never owned a microwave or air conditioner and
only went to town (25 miles away) once a month. I guess
looking back it’s no surprise how she got controlled by a
younger smarter narcissist like my brother. She then be-
came co-dependent to him.
I never talked to my dad. Maybe it was the age difference
and the fact that he had already raised five kids in a differ-
ent life or maybe it was because I was a renegade, a rebel,
not your average “daughter”. My brother and I grew up with
the same set of parents, parents who were together until my
dad died at the age of 73 when I was 18, yet we are so dif-
ferent I wonder what, if any memories he has of growing up.
My brother is just one year younger than I, and just like my
relationship with my dad, we have never talked either. While
growing up you don’t realize how dysfunctional your family
is until people start asking questions or you notice how other
people interact in theirs.
Looking back I never realized I would take on these char-
acteristics and similarities of my parents. Unlike my other
articles, this one prefers to focus on the positive as I cannot
change the past- whether it be through their discrepancies
as parents, my mother’s narcissism or the pain that comes
from it all.
In moving forward, in all of the past two years’ worth of
events, my mind has shifted and my priorities have “some-
what” shifted.
I see that a LOT of time has been wasted. Maybe this is
called wisdom. The world seems to be opening in such a
way that I am BEYOND blessed. I want to set an example,
I want to show others that regardless of their past, FIND the
good in it all, I want to change the world! At the bottom of
every email I send out it says “When you want something
bad enough, the whole world conspires to give it to you”.
Ain’t that the damn truth!
Chris Gibbany
Old Iron Never Dies!
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