One Old Gal, Small Tools, and a lot of Will

My dad cut his lawn on a near daily basis.  When he would cut my Aunt Myrtle's lawn she would yell, "Hurt, don't you cut any of my flowers," and she would watch him with bated breath ready to come to aide her prized possessions should they lose life or limb under the blades of that push mower under the power of my father.  However, dad was careful, and never that I saw, took the life of any of her loved ones.  My father and my aunt had pride in their yards and took care of the land.  Dad had about a half acre across the street from my aunts two acres.  Dad had originally bought that half acre for his mother and had her a house moved onto it.  You would never find trash, limbs, or anything out of place in these yards.  The grass was always neatly trimmed, the azaleas pruned, the rose bushes and other flowering trees cleared of dead or wilting blooms.  They passed down this trait to me. 

My Daddy's Mother Carley Jackson Harrison and Me Cindy Harrison

Aunt Myrle's yard was full of flowers, mostly Azaleas.  Most of the tall pines were taken out by a freak snow storm in 1973.  I swear that snow followed us from South Dakota to welcome us to the south.  My father had been stationed there prior to his retirement which brought us to his home in Opp, Alabama.  Oh what a culture shock.  Aunt Myrtle affectionately called us that motherless bunch. We consisted of three girls, a blond, a brunette, and one with silk black hair.  Quite the trio we were.  Not a one of us favored a bit.  But, at that time we were sisters and family.  That is another story for another time.  Throughout our childhood when Dad could take leave, he would bring us to visit Aunt Myrtle and she would dote on us.  She fed us boiled peanuts, fresh preserves, tomato gravy, homemade biscuits, and I loved her cooking.  I loved her. I loved visiting her, she made me feel special.  She would send me a small present or a card with a dollar on my birthday.  She was that one person that I knew loved me.

(It is a fact that if a child raised under extreme circumstances has one person that believes in him or her and that child feels the love or support from that person, that child has a better chance of overcoming the odds and turning out alright.  I can chalk my success to my Aunt Myrtle.  I know, as a child when I felt no one else cared, she loved me.)

My Aunt myrtle suffered what we thought was a stroke in the fall of 1975.  It turned out to be brain cancer.  After surgery and rehab, she died in the summer of 1976.  I took care of her until that day.  I was pregnant with my first child and was with her when she took her last breath.  That was the first death I had ever witnessed first hand.  The elder women in the area said I had marked my unborn child.  To this day, I wonder if that were true. Yet again, another story for another time.  Dad inherited her land,  house, and all possessions.  My dad died in 1993.  He also had brain cancer, lung cancer, pancreatic cancer, bone cancer, etc. I had by that time moved out of Alabama.  Dad had decided to stay with me when his cancer was deemed incurable and all treatment was stopped.  He only lived about two weeks after the doctors stopped treatment.  It was a sad time. 

Daddy had a will written.  He willed his one half acre and his house to my son.  He split Myrtles land and house between the five children.  Before he slipped into the diabetic coma from which he did not emerge, he told me he did not mind dying but he did not want to leave me and Brandon.  You see, I have a disabled son.  Brandon was run over by a drunk driver, and I had been unable to work after his accident due to his care and the way medicaid was structured at that time.  My dad helped me financially and emotionally.  He also helped me with my daughters.  He loved them like a rock.  He made them feel special.  He is the reason for their success.  I loved my Daddy.  He was at ease in my home and chose to live and die there with me because he had trust in me.

My brother, who was raised by my mother had decided to move to daddy's town as an adult after his divorce and then decided to take charge of everything and let the land go to hell.  Him and my sister went through everything my Daddy owned and the only thing I received was my childhood passport.  My father's house burned down at some point.  I was never told.  Aunt Myrtles barn is no where to be found.  Her house is falling down.  My brother and one sister, who was not my father's biological child destroyed the will and claimed there was none.  They have held the land in probate all these years.  They think they deserve something for nothing. My brother was born a Jr. and changed his name.  After a DUI he went by his original birth certificate to get a drivers license in another state.  This was before states shared info on DUI's.  He did not want my fathers name.  And he wonders why Daddy did not bring out that fatted cow.  Plus the fact he helped mom steal his babes.  Oh, yet another story for another time.  He spews venom at me to ease his own guilt.   I did not choose to live in this small town.  I moved away in 1985.  But the land called me back. 

I hold a Masters Degree in Psychology with an Emphasis in Behavior Analysis I am a behavior analyst.  In 2009 and 2010 I suffered strokes and at the present time cannot work due to my medical conditions left by the stroke and my blood disorder that caused the stroke.  So, I had to leave Maui and my children behind and return to my daddy's land.  Upon returning I discovered the land in this chaos.

My brother, it turns out was a slum lord.  He rented to people without providing adequate upkeep of the house.  It is my belief the landlord should provide certain things like garbage pickup.  It is my belief the landlord should also check on the property at regular intervals.  My brother did not.  The people that rented or stayed in my Aunt Myrtles home destroyed not only the house but the entire land it resides upon.  There is not one square yard that does not contain some part of a car, piece of glass, a tin can, a brick or some other piece of trash that has to be picked up or dug up out of the land. Hole after hole contains burn pits where these idiots burned their trash including items that would not burn such as glass jars and tin cans when one hole would fill up they would just move to another one. 

Bricks, are everywhere for no reason.  just thrown randomly throughout the property.  Could not explain that until one day I was working on the back of Myrtle's house and realized they had removed her double chimney.  All these bricks must be the remnants of that that chimney.  Why they are all over the land is another mystery which may never be solved.  I have never seen such disregard for property in my life.  A simple monthly check on the land could have prevented this atrocity.

My brother's wife claims we owe him over ten-thousand dollars for the money he has put into the estate, mostly Aunt Myrtles house.  I think he owes the estate for the missing barn, the gutting of Aunt Myrtles house, the entire house of my fathers.  Plus the money he received in rent over the years.  And the fact that the entire three acres is over grown with weeds, unwanted trees, and vines.  So my dear brother, if you happen upon this page, you need to repay the estate for the misuse of our father's estate under your care.  

My father and I used to work the land together.  It became therapy.  We would dig up the ground and plant a winter flower garden in October.  This is not hard to do in Northwest Florida.  At that time I lived in Crestview, Florida.  We might plant a tree, or ornamental shrubs, or cabbage, but we would do something to take our minds off of the month that hurt us so deeply.  No one understood the bond between me and my Dad.  Especially my brother. 

My brother owned a hardware store in which he would hire my Dad to work.  However, he would not pay him any wages for fear he might give me some of his earnings.  Dad would tell me he did not feel comfortable taking a soda from the cooler.  My brother was an ass.  I really hope he wakes up and becomes a better man one day.  Daddy was not always a good man.  But he became a great man.  My children only knew a great man.  They thought their grand father could walk on water.  Unfortunately not all my siblings got to know this great man.  My Dad would spend the night at my brother's house but end up sleeping in his truck.  Dad told me that my brother's wife got onto him for cutting the butter on the wrong end.  Who knew butter had a correct end.  My poor Daddy.  He could not win for losing.  He just wanted us all to get along. 

The week before his health went down hill he said it broke his heart to see himself in his son.  The drinking and the meanness.  He told me that he told my big brother to be good to me because he might need me one day.  Boy howdy, that went in one ear and out the other.   No matter.  If he will just leave me alone.  Let me and my son live out our days on this land all will be well.  My children, as far as I know, have no desire for it.  I don't know about my grand children, that is yet to be determined. 

From the day I reluctantly came from Maui and stepped foot on this land I have felt at home.  Not that I would not rather be back in Maui but being here is not so bad if this is where I must be.  Aunt Myrtle talks to me, or I talk to her.  She makes me smile.  I told her to go get Daddy cause I think I left him in Crestview. 

Entire Property is overgrown.  Cannot even see where a house once stood.  SAD.  

When I was cleaning up his fence row, he came to me in a song.  It was a song by Richie Havens I was fighting with vines I am sure had roots straight to hell the lyrics are:
We all know now that somewhere
The weather is something that is right
Someone there that keeps all from knowing
We all feel that some day we will finally win this fight
For today is the day that the mighty wind is blowing
You are not to blame for anything you did not do
We all know the scoundrels have our numbers
And you are not responsible for everything they did to you
Today is the day that we will learn more truth
Talk about, giving
Talk about, living
Talk about, giving now
You cannot hide from anyone who is staring in your eyes
We all know the scoundrels are through the roofs
And will not stand inside the stampede of their lies
For todays the today we all come up from under

I was blown away.  I felt his presence.  I knew he understood how hard I was working to get things right with the land and the family.  And I also knew there were some things that were just not possible.  I was simply not responsible for anything I did not do.  

I have small tools, I have improving but poor health, I have a great will to make this place beautiful.  I have found two azaleas, two camellias, and three rose bushes in all the overgrowth.  I have cut down tons (may be an exaggeration) of overgrowth with much more to go.  It may take the rest of my life, but it is a worthwhile goal.  My son enjoys picking up the sticks the wind blows out of the trees.  He is a true and faithful helper!  My body and mind will not let me be what I was, but I can be what I am! 

First of the two azaleas found!

First of two Camillias found!

My feelings and insight are what I remember to be true.  Others may not see things as I do and they are entitled to their point of view.  However, they are not entitled to rewrite history to clear their conscience.  

My Helper!  Always wanting to do a Job!

Finally See The Road!

Clearing the Overgrowth. 

Always working together