Day 13 - Family ties

Lost identities...

When I was born, I was a part of the Zimmerman family who ran big, public swimming pools in three locations in our hometown. My daddy, Joe, was a builder and he built homes and also these large pools. 

I was born in 1957 and he died in 1964. I was only 7 years old. I can't even remember him other than from the few old black and white pictures we have of him.  We had a great life, as far as I knew. We lived in a ranch style home above the bathhouse of the Lincolnway Swimming Pool. I had the biggest backyard pool a kid could want! I think that's why I love Summer so much. Sun, swimming, music on the jukebox and being around the pool are good memories.

My daddy was an amazing man from what many people have told me. He served in the Army during WWII and then came back from the war and worked for his family. He was an avid hunter and sportsman loving archery and golf. I remember him making me a cut down 5 iron so that I could have my own golf club to play with. He also gave me a bamboo fishing pole that I caught lots of little sunnies with. There are pictures of these things so that's how they exist in my memory.

Another thing he was known for was his physical strength. He was part of the first men who worked out with Bob Hoffman and York Barbell. He could balance his brother on a chair on his chin and also had his brother climb up on a ladder and jump down onto his stomach. They were featured in Ripley's Believe it Or Not in the York Dispatch. I only wish I could have seen these things for myself.

After a while, he decided to stop building homes and went to work for a lumber company. One day near the end of October, while moving lumber around in the warehouse with a forklift, a load of hardboard became unbalanced and crushed him, killing him on impact. I was only 7 years old and my daddy was gone. I didn't understand. Our lives were changed forever.

Fast forward a few years, my mother remarried and the man she married adopted me so that I could have a father in my life and our names would be the same so kids wouldn't ask questions all the time about my name being different. At that point, my life changed. It's like my real dad was erased and I had never been part of the Zimmerman family at all. Families are strange and the adults don't always realize how their actions will affect the children. Our family had been Catholic but my mother couldn't continue practicing Catholicism because my new dad was previously divorced and his ex-wife was still living. If my mother didn't go to church, I was still pretty young and wouldn't go by myself so another big change occurred -- no more church. If you're Catholic, you understand what that would mean in your life.

I did go to church a few times with my friend, Beth, who went to York Gospel Center. That was a huge change from the Catholic church! We were at a service one evening and an older man with a very deep voice called out "Amen!" which scared the dickens out of me because no one spoke out individually in the Catholic church! I remember it to this day! We went to the youth group and I liked it there. They went to church because they wanted to - not because they had to. It was really different from the Catholic church and I missed that part of my life.

It's confusing when these things happen in your life. Those were big changes. They still resonate with me today. I think I feel this way because I have lived away from my family for the last 31 years in many different places due to my husband's military and now government service. Having shallow roots tends to contribute to the feeling of not be attached strongly anywhere.

How many of you feel this way? Have you had life changing circumstances happen that caused you to lose a part of you?