Mary J. McCoy-Dressel

Sensual western romance. Heartwarming stories. Strong family ties.
Mary J. McCoy-Dressel
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  • Tag: childhood memories

    • #MFRWauthor Week 2~Childhood Memories #WritersLife

      Posted at 8:01 am by Mary J. McCoy-Dressel, on January 11, 2019
      Brother Sister Blog Post Week 2, Mary J McCoy-Dressel, author western romance #MFRWauthor

      2019 Week 2: Childhood Memories – A Walk Back in Time.

      Most of us have childhood memories. Some good. Some bad. Some make us laugh. Some make us cry, but we have them. This week’s Marketing for Romance Writers 52-Week Blog Challenge topic gives us a chance to talk about them. #MFRWauthor Link to 2017 Childhood Memory post.

      I’m walking back in time today with a bittersweet memory of my oldest brother, Bob. I’m a middle child between two brothers with a nine-year span between me and the oldest. A brother born between us passed away as an infant, and I have a brother three years younger than me. I don’t mention my bad-to-the-bone troublemaking older brother often, but that isn’t why I don’t talk about him. I didn’t know him. My dad sent him away when I was only five or six.

      My dad wanted to get him out of Detroit and away from the gang-like life he wanted to live. Instead of dealing with him, he let my stern grandma straighten him out in her little village where she lived on a lake in Northern Michigan. The last thing my brother needed was a small town to control, and a grandmother who couldn’t handle him. Via hearsay, he’d found the bad of the bad to hang with while living there until he joined the Army.

      My memory isn’t about the bad in him. It’s about him being my big brother, my protector, and the day Dad sent him away. I can’t remember the goings-on before we piled out the door to go to Michigan Central Station. It’s possible they never told me this would be forever, but I figured it out.

      My memory is about saying good-bye to my brother and walking through the train station holding his hand. He got on the train. Just like that, we left, but I kept pulling my mom or dad’s hand, lagging back, and yelling that we had to wait for Bob. Then we left. If one of them hadn’t had my hand, I might’ve run back to grab him off the train or get on and go with him.

      Brian W. Schaller [FAL], from Wikimedia Commons

      I kept looking back, looking back, looking back, and crying for him. Later, when we got home, I closed the kitchen door and sat on the basement step and cried and cried, which was unusual for me because I’d never go to the basement at night alone, let alone close the door and sit in the dark. I wouldn’t eat. I missed him so. My heart had broken over losing my big brother.

      I grew up without my oldest brother, but I’ll cut it off by saying we stayed in contact throughout my teen and adult life. He’d had a rough life and lived to be a senior adult though died at a young age by today’s standards. I’m the one who has his ashes. Oddly, he had made his home in Northern Michigan near to where he’d been sent to live with our grandma.


      This old train station has quite a history. Are you interested in knowing if this magnificent building is still standing? You’ll find updated information at the link below.

      From Dan Austin at Historic Detroit.Org:

      For 75 years, the depot shipped Detroiters off to war, brought them home, took them on vacation and sent them off to visit Grandma.

      Oh, if they only knew…

      Thank you for reading.


      This is a blog hop, baby. We have new participants this year! What happens when they walk back in time to share a childhood memory? Let’s find out HERE.

      Mary J McCoy-Dressel, western romance author, blog post #MFRWauthor Week 1 2019

       

      Michigan Central Station, Detroit, Michigan, U.S. Credit: Brian W. Schaller

      Brother and sister Credit: Pixaba

      Posted in #AmWriting, #MFRWauthor, 52-week blog challenge | 14 Comments | Tagged #AmWriting, #MFRWauthor, #WritersLife, 52-week blog challenge, brother and sister, childhood memories, Detroit, family issues, Marketing for Romance Writers org, Michigan Central Station, Northern Michigan
    • #AmWriting 52 Week Blog Challenge Pickin’ Apples #MFRWauthor

      Posted at 10:20 am by Mary J. McCoy-Dressel, on May 26, 2017

      Wow, can you believe this is week 21? The Topic this week is: “A Childhood Memory.”

      Remember, I haven’t participated every week, but some authors have, so try to visit their blogs since this is a BLOG HOP. I’m excited to see their childhood memories.


      A Childhood Memory:

      I grew up in Detroit in my grandmother’s large brick home. I don’t remember the day we moved in with Grandma, but I do have an early memory of living somewhere else. But this isn’t the childhood memory I will mention today. My other grandmother, my dad’s mom, lived in what we call “Up North” about fifty miles south of the Mackinac Bridge. I’m combining a couple memories that took place at her cottage home on a Lake.

      We didn’t go up there often, therefore, I barely remember my paternal grandfather. One memory I have of him is when we went apple picking down the road from Grandma’s house. He had an old pickup truck. I’m willing to bet the truck was a Ford. All my family “up north” drove, and, today, still drive a Ford truck or car. How weird, because now I do to. Back to the memory…

      Bushels of apples were being loaded into the back of Grandpa’s truck, but my most important memory was having my Grandpa lift me up into the back of the truck, too. He and I were laughing, which tells me we were happy together. I don’t know how young I was, but it might’ve been before I started school. It’s the only memory I have of him.

      I think my female cousin was there. She and I are the only girls out of twelve cousins and brothers. Later when I was in school—maybe kindergarten, my dad received a phone call from his middle brother who lived near Grandma and Grandpa. After the call, my dad called his youngest brother who lived near us. (My favorite uncle)

      I remember a lot of running around and my dad being sad, then my uncle appeared. Dad had packed a suitcase. This got me in trouble a lot, but I was an inquisitive child, so I asked why everyone cried. My grandpa had passed away, and my dad and uncle rushed up north to be with my grandma. I don’t remember a trip up north or a funeral, but I do remember my dad being sad for some time.

      Another memory I have of the lake house was ice fishing with my dad in freezing cold temperatures. Once, on the way out the back door to the lake, I paid attention to Grandpa’s overall’s hanging frozen on the day porch. Funny, I remember the frozen overalls, but I don’t remember Grandpa being there. Something about those frozen clothes hanging on a line stuck with me. LOL. Four of my cousins still live up north, and a fifth has vacation lake property. The sixth lives in Florida. Larry, the youngest cousin of the bunch, took this picture of what used to be Grandma’s house on the lake.

      Back to ice fishing. I remember being so bundled up, I could barely move. I trudged out there on the frozen lake with my dad early one morning. Once we arrived to his “spot,” he drilled the hole. After a few minutes of sitting at this silly hole in the ice, it was the last place I wanted to be because my feet were already freezing. I stuck a pole in for a short time. It wasn’t like I never fished with my dad before, but ice fishing was boring.

      Oh, sure, I had brothers, but I’m the one who fished with Dad. I stood the cold for as long as I could before making my way back to the house, which seemed like a mile though the cottage stayed in sight. I remember asking my grandma about the frozen clothes. She laughed because it seemed odd to me. “How could clothes dry if they were frozen?” I’d asked.

      I wasn’t one of Grandma’s favorite grandkids. Six other grandkids lived close to her and she talked about them all the time. In fact, I didn’t much like her either. She wasn’t a caring and compassionate grandma. She’d make fun of me for crying when my parents went out on the town with my aunt and uncle. She called me a “baby” for crying. At home in Detroit, my parents didn’t go out on the town, so I wasn’t used to being left alone with a near stranger. Besides, she and my maternal grandmother were total opposites, and Grandma Alice loved me like crazy. It wasn’t until I had grown that Grandma Gertie and I became friends and I did grow to love her.

      Oops, I combined more than a couple childhood memories. If you’re still reading, I hope the memories weren’t as boring as the ice fishing. Thanks for reading if you made it this far.

      Remember, this is a blog hop! Hoppity hop right on over to the Marketing For Romance Writers Blog Hop page. Thanks for visiting. Enjoy your weekend.

      Other than the lake house, images are from Pixabay.

      Link to the Blog Hop participants.

      This is a Blog Hop!


      1.
      Pickin’ Apples with Grandpa
      2.
      Helen Henderson – Whooa. Too fast.
      3.
      Robin Michaela – Childhood Memories of a Baby Bird
      4.
      Sherry Lewis – I Had The Time of My Life
      5.
      That Thing in the Pool – Linda McLaughlin
      6.
      Alina K. Field – Traumatized for Life
      7.
      Maureen Bonatch – Magical Memories from Back in the Day
      8.
      Meka James – I Seem To Remember
      9.
      Kenzie Michaels – “Well Hello There! Mind If I Drop In?”
      10.
      Edward Hoomaert – Jiggers, it’s da cops!
      11.
      Cathy Brockman – Memories of Mom and Floods Cathy Writes Romance
      12.
      Peggy Jaeger – Elvis and Me

       

      Posted in #MFRWauthor, #WritersLife, 52-week blog challenge | 27 Comments | Tagged #MFRWauthor, childhood, childhood memories, cousins, cowboys, family, ice fishing, mary j mccoy dressel, Memories with Grandpa, picking apples, Romance, Up North in Michigan, western romance
    • Memory Lane: Mark Twain and my Dad

      Posted at 11:32 am by Mary J. McCoy-Dressel, on April 3, 2015
      216226

      Image came from: booksrevisited.com/shop/booksrev/216226.html

      I’ve been reading since I was a kid—even before I knew who Mark Twain was. Why did I say Mark Twain? Today I was reminded of a book my dad encouraged me to read when I was a kid. One of them was “The Prince and the Pauper” by Mark Twain. For the life of me, I have no idea why this book sticks in my memory. I wasn’t interested in reading this book.

      Because it was about two young boys? Why would a little girl want to read about two boys? Well, I was a tomboy and I did like comic books. Ah ha, that must have been his reasoning. Either way, my dad was adamant about me reading. (He read all the time, and I have a feeling he wanted to be a writer instead of a construction worker/ truck driver.)

      © Ivanbondarenko | Dreamstime.com -

      © Ivanbondarenko | Dreamstime.com

      In fact, he joined a book club, and books were constantly being delivered to our house, for me. Too bad I don’t still have those books. The thing I remember about the books that were delivered, was the different colors, and the bindings all had different colors too.

      Purple stands out in my mind when I think of this book. One was white with a purple binding. The books from this club didn’t have a picture on them. I might have read them if they had a picture on the cover, but I believe these books were written for kids older than me, even though I could read most of the words.

      Funny, but I don’t remember my youngest brother reading books, or being asked to read, although he read comic books with me. When I think about it, I was about eight years old or younger, so my brother would have been about six and a half. Of course he wouldn’t have read Mark Twain. So why did I have to?

      Did my dad see something in me at that young age that told him I needed this? Thanks, Dad, for encouraging me read. He also made, or encouraged, my brother and I to do homework in the summer. The man made me write outside of school! Thanks again, Dad. LOL Do you have a favorite book you read as a child?

      cover150x250

      I browsed for covers that might trigger something, and when I clicked on this plain cover, it reminded me of the book. What struck me about this book link on iTunes was a comment on the page that says it all. Check it out. It’s the one that says it will stick in your mind forever.

      How true!

      Thanks for stopping by to read.

      Might as well add a Mark Twain quote while I’m at it. I have no proof Mark Twain actually said this, so please correct me if I’m wrong.

      Life is short, break the rules, forgive quickly, kiss slowly, love truly, laugh uncontrollably, and never regret anything that made you smile. Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

      ~ Mark Twain ~

      Posted in #AmWriting | 7 Comments | Tagged #AmReading, #AmWriting, Book Club, childhood, childhood memories, mary j mccoy dressel, Reading, writing
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