The person who is supposed to love you picks up their handgun, removes the bullets, and then hands them to you and says put them somewhere safe so I won't find them and do something bad.   You understand the threat.  The box with the remaining bullets is sitting in a drawer a few feet away.  This is intimidation meant to control you and scare you into doing what they want or else.

 Being in an abusive relationship is like a fly caught in a spider’s web.  It is even more distressing when there are children involved, whom you are trying to protect.  When the spider is hiding behind a mask, and everyone thinks they are the good guy, and no one knows what goes on behind closed doors.  Physical violence, mental abuse, threats against not just you, but if you don’t behave a certain way, your children will be in harm's way.  Who do you trust to open up to?  When the dam burst, and the 911 call is made, one of the officers responding tells you to just do what your abuser tells you to do, and everything will be ok.  Now what?  I was beaten but not broken.  I fought back.  I lost many court battles because I didn’t look like a victim, and the ex played the part.  I would rather be the survivor and learn to live again without being controlled. Seeing my children free from the narcissist parent.  I lost material things and money, but I had my children.  Even more surprising was when coworkers started to find out I was getting a divorce, they told me they never liked my ex but kept quiet because of me and my children. 

Not everyone will find a way out of an abusive relationship.  Don’t judge because you don’t know how hard it is to survive inside the nightmare.  The threats, the violence, and the mind games weigh heavily on those going through it.  

 After I married, moved away from my parents, and was settled into our new home, my mother gave me several divisions of her favorite daylily.  I have nurtured and babied those few daylilies.  I have divided them and given them to nieces who have successfully grown them in their gardens.  I don’t know the variety of this daylily, so I told my husband I am just going to call it Clella’s Jewel after my mom.  I have had my plants for twenty-seven years, and they always bring me joy.

I have also planted black hollyhock seeds that came from my mother’s garden.  They are biennial, and this year one came up and bloomed.  My mom and I always loved hollyhocks, and once in a while, we would have one that grew more like a small tree than a flower stalk.

The geraniums remind me of my grandma Chloe.  When we first moved to California, my grandparents were renting a small cottage.  There were three cottages on each side of the walkway, ending with a gazebo with a channel of water surrounding it and geraniums planted around it.  They have that certain unique fragrance, and they always remind me of my grandmother.

I have a Liquidambar tree planted in the backyard that was a gift in remembrance of my father.  The Rose of Sharron shares the name of my oldest sister.  My dogwood tree reminds me of faith, and the Magnolia tree is for my husband’s love of New Orleans. 

These are only a few of my favorites. 

 

July 1th 2026

I have ancestors who fought in the Revolutionary War, more than one.  I have not pursued the Daughters of the American Revolution; I don’t need a piece of paper to certify them.  I can trace them on Ancestry through my mother's family and I know them by the family names.  They fought for American freedom for all.  They were children of immigrants, as all non-Native Americans are.  I am proud of their sacrifice and courage.  May the constitution they fought for continue to be the foundation of America.

 Lady in Red

On our first Valentine's Day, my husband Larry took me to Anacortes to a hotel for dinner and a night away from home.  I surprised him with a form-fitted  long red satin dress with spaghetti straps.  We walked down the sweeping grand staircase with people turning heads at us.  Such a romantic thing to do, but the best was yet to come.  The next morning, as we were headed home in his red Mustang convertible, the song Lady In Red came on the radio.  Larry pulled the car over to the curb, got out, opened my door, and pulled me into his arms to dance on the sidewalk with music blasting.  

 My father never knew his relatives on his dad’s side of the family because my grandfather for some unknown reason would never say who his parents were.  Several times my dad met someone with the same last name and he would ask trying to find that missing connection to his family history.   My dad died never knowing the history behind his name. 

Before covid my husband Larry Marrs bought me an Ancestry DNA kit to see if I could find answers.  It was slow trying to figure out all those hints on Ancestry.  During covid I spent hours researching, asking questions of strangers with my maiden name, trying to figure out our family tree. 

A wonderful group on FB answered one of my questions and that led me down another path.  I thought I had found my great-grandfather when a newfound cousin told me that was a great uncle and gave me the name of my great-grandfather that I had been looking for. 

Then the search began for my great-grandmother, which was much harder, but all those days sheltered at home that became my goal.  Yes, I found her, and it made me cry.  All I really wanted to do was tell my dad who they were, and I wanted to scream at my grandfather, who kept secrets. 

I found a cousin along the way who shared so much family history, other cousins popped up in a private group and it was fun to see how we were related.  One cousin shared a photo of my great grandmother and again I cried.  My father grew up surrounded by cousins that he never knew.  My circle of family has grown with new cousins that I am thankful for.

 When my mother was born women were not allowed to vote.  My parents were adamant that I register to vote when I turned 18.  They didn’t tell me what party to register with and they didn’t tell me who they were registered as.  I registered as a Democrat and found out they were registered Republicans.    When they first moved to California, like me they had no idea so they registered as Republicans, but they always voted for who they thought was the best candidate for each office, not a blanket party ticket.  Before the 2016 election, my mom and I talked about Hillary Clinton and the one who shall not be named.  My mother was not a fan of either candidate, but she said she would vote for the best candidate, and that was Hillary Clinton because she was a woman and was better than the other candidate who she could not stand.  I voted for Kamala Harris because the man running has little regard for women’s rights, human rights, or religious rights.