A Glimpse

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Have you ever wondered how your childhood memories shape your present relationships? Join me on a heartfelt exploration of my formative years in Brownville, New York. ❤️ You'll hear about unforgettable incidents, like breaking my arm while returning Pepsi bottles, and my father's gentle care during my bath time. These reflections aim to inspire you to cherish your past as a way to navigate the present and future connections in your life.

This episode also delves into my personal experiences with family nicknames and the journey towards gratitude and self-love. Listen as I recount a defining moment when my mom courageously stood up against hurtful names at a family dinner. Plus, I'll share the transformative experience of meeting my biological father, Joe, five years ago, which filled a significant gap in my life. Hear how a powerful quote by Sylvester McNutt about controlling effort and attitude resonates deeply with me, and why surrounding yourself with positive, like-minded people is crucial. Join me for an episode filled with personal anecdotes and insights aimed at inspiring you to reflect on your own relationships and past. ❤️
LINKS!

•  https://www.sylvestermcnutt.net ( best selling author, podcaster, public speaker, course creator, and father )
• https://www.nearestanddearestpodcast.com ( ✅out my website for more  episodes & show notes/links! 📝)
• [e-mail] ( send me a question, comment, or share a personal story! 📧I would love to hear from you! ❤️)
• https://www.speakpipe.com/NearestAndDearestPodcast ( please leave me a recorded message - up to 90 secs 🗣I'll send you one back! 🎤)

Episode Transcript

Julie Rogers (00:06):
No one ever said life is easy, but I believe by
giving yourself permission, youwill find you have more control
over your life than you realize.
I'm Julie.
I hope you will join me bytaking responsibility for
yourself, by only controllingthe things you can and letting
go of the things that you can't.
By doing this, you will havediscovered the secret to having

(00:31):
happy, healthy and morefulfilling relationships.
This is Nearest and DearestPodcast.
I'm Julie Rogers and you arelistening to Season 3, episode
10, A Glimpse.
I know it's been some timesince I last released a new
episode.
Life has been busy.

(00:52):
We had our grandchildren visitus on the river, along with
other family as well.
Summer keeps going by fasterand faster.
Just the other day, my daughter, Ashley turned 39.
She shares her birthday with mydad.
You might remember me sharingwith you that I wasn't close to

(01:14):
him.
I have some regrets about that.
I came across a note I wrote inMay of 2020.
I was sharing my thoughts aboutmy dad reflecting on my
childhood.
I reread it and decided toshare it with you.
As we get older, our memoriescan start to become blurry.

(01:37):
Living our lives and creatingmore and more moments that get
stored in our minds can start topush back those once vivid
memories into smaller fragmentsthat can cloud over.
Maybe I'm sensitive to therealization that my mom lost her
life due to Alzheimer's and Iwant to remember as much as I

(02:03):
can to understand who I am.
I only have a couple blurrymemories of my dad in the house
I lived in with my five othersiblings and our mom.
I have tried to reach as farback as my mind will let me to

(02:24):
picture him actually with me.
It's always been the saddestpart of my childhood.
That has lingered in my mindand heart.
My parents divorced when I wasaround 10.
I was the middle child and theoldest daughter.
I have three older brothers andtwo younger sisters.

(02:47):
We lived in a small town,actually a village in Northern
New York, Brown Boulevard inBrownville.
Our house was historic.
General Jacob Brown, who was anAmerican Army officer in the
War of 1812, used the house asan Army headquarters during the

(03:10):
war.
His home was directly acrossthe street and we knew it as the
mansion.
Fond memories of running acrossthe street, playing there as
kids with our neighborhoodfriends.
The mansion was glorious tobehold, with large gray stones

(03:35):
stacked three stories high, setback far enough to showcase a
beautiful green grass front anda circular driveway.
It also held our public library.
During the summer months thevillage offered a summer
recreation program at themansion.
During the winter, the hugebackyard made the perfect ice

(03:59):
skating rink for all theresidents to enjoy, along with a
decent-sized hill to gosledding.
We didn't always have sleds butwould drag an old piece of
cardboard big enough to sit onand slide down.
The older kids would make anice ramp just before the bottom

(04:21):
that would send you sailing intothe air.
Living in Brownville during themid-60s to mid-70s was heavenly
.
My siblings and I were fortunateto start our youths in a
neighborhood.
The saying it takes a villageto raise a child is exactly how

(04:44):
we were raised.
I was always barefoot, runningout the door to play with my
friends.
Hide and seek, dodgeball,mother may I, hopscotch, jump
rope and riding bikes wereeveryday pleasures.
My dad was a lineman for thelocal electric company.

(05:07):
As the years went by he was adispatcher and retired from that
same company.
My mom was a secretary for alocal propane gas company just
one of many other full-time jobsshe did to support our family.

(05:28):
Most of my vivid memories arewith my siblings in the house,
throw in a couple of my bestchildhood friends in the mix,
and I had a wonderful start inmy youth.
However, my images of both myparents together are somehow

(05:50):
lost.
I have always wondered ifthat's because I focused only on
my happy memories,overshadowing the sad ones.
To be clear, I only have onespecific memory that involved
both my parents.

(06:10):
They were members of theBrownville Legion, post-588.
My dad served four years as amechanic in the Air Force before
marrying my mom.
She was very active with theladies' auxiliary.
My sisters and I were also partof the junior auxiliary.

(06:30):
One particular night Momattended her ladies' meeting.
Dad was home with us kids.
I was around six years old and Iwas upstairs collecting empty
glass 16-ounce Pepsi bottlesfrom my brother's rooms.
I was going to return thebottles to the general store

(06:52):
down our street to buy pennycandy.
I was playing dress-up andslipped on a pair of mom's high
heels.
Being only six, I thought Icould just simply walk down our
wooden staircase holding twosix-packs of empty Pepsi glass

(07:13):
bottles with those high-heeledshoes on without a problem.
I clearly remember landing onmy face, my body flat on the
floor and hearing the clankingof those bottles, some ahead of
me and others behind mescreaming at the pain my left

(07:35):
arm felt.
My dad heard me and came to myaid.
At first he thought I was goingto be okay, there was no blood
and I could walk.
But it was supper time and heinsisted I try to eat.
I was left-handed and when herealized I couldn't pick up my

(07:59):
fork he knew I must have brokenmy arm.
He took me to the emergencyroom and sure enough I did.
The doctor set my arm in a castand we drove back.
There were no cell phones inthe 70s to alert my mom and I

(08:20):
don't remember if he called theLegion from the hospital, but I
specifically remember Dadpulling up to the front door of
the Legion.
I got out and ran into Mom'sarms.
She looked shocked and wascrying seeing me in a cast.

(08:45):
The only other vivid memory ofmy dad in our house was dad
giving my sisters and me a bath.
It was a tender, gentle moment.
What was significant to me waswhat I remembered him saying.
" I guess you are clean, julie.

(09:05):
This is the color of your skin.
You see, my siblings all haveblue eyes, same as our parents.
I have brown eyes and darkbrown hair, almost black.
My brothers have various shadesof brown hair and my sisters

(09:33):
are blonde, and so was my momdad too, before he lost most of
it as he aged.
I stood out as being differentcompared to my siblings,
especially compared to mysisters.
My skin tone was olive andtheirs was fair.
It was so noticeable that myolder brothers would tease me

(09:54):
and say I was either adopted ormom and dad found me on the side
of the road.
It was always said harmlessly,but it always stuck with me as a
kid.
My Uncle Bob, my mom's onlysibling, who was younger than
her, along with my siblings,would call me the Guinea.

(10:19):
Now, at that time, I had nounderstanding what a guinea was.
The other nickname was Wop.
All I knew was I had thenicknames as far back as I can
remember.
It kind of made me madsometimes and other times it

(10:43):
made me feel special.
As I got older I realized thosenames were offensive to the
Italian-Americans.
I looked into the origin ofthose slang words very recently.
I found Guinea comes fromGuinea Negro and originally

(11:07):
referred to any black or anyperson of mixed ancestry.
This dates back to the 1740s.
By the 1890s it was beingapplied to Italians, almost
certainly because they tend tohave darker skin than

(11:29):
Anglo-Saxons or Germans.
By 1911, the term began beingapplied to Hispanics, although
the reference to Italians is themost common.
The only two people in myimmediate family who never

(11:50):
called me the guinea or the wopwere my parents, at least not
that I can recall.
As I grew into an adult,married, raised two children, my
mom started to really takeoffense to my family who were
still calling me those nicknames.

(12:13):
My youngest sister shared withme an incident that happened one
evening during a get-togetherwith some of my siblings and our
mom for dinner.
Someone at the table, thefamily went to a local
restaurant, mentioned my name.
I wasn't there for thegathering, I was living in

(12:35):
Connecticut at the time.
Just brought my name up andcalled me the Guinea.
Mom was so mad that she made abig deal about it and caused a
little scene.
My sister was flabbergasted anddecided to actually get up and

(12:56):
leave the restaurant.
That was a pivotal moment wheremy mom told my siblings that
she did not want to hear anyonerefer to me as the guinea or the

(13:20):
wop, and how much it offendedher and was disrespectful to me.
It will be five years thisOctober that I met Joe, my
biological father.
I am still very grateful tohave connected with him.
It was the missing puzzle piecethat has eluded me for most of
my life.
I believe in embracing truegratitude.

(13:43):
It has been the gift that keepsgiving to me.
In a world that is filled withchaos, conflicts, wars and
unspeakable tragedies, I believewhen we realize we can only
control ourselves, we will livea more peaceful life.

(14:07):
I recently put a quote on myrefrigerator as a reminder - "In
life, the only two things youcan control are your effort and
your attitude.
Everything else is not up toyou.
End quote.

(14:30):
I looked up who the writer isSylvester McNutt, a best-selling
author, podcaster, publicspeaker, course creator and
father.
I'll share a hyperlink in myshow notes if you would like to
read more about this insightful,wise young man.

(14:50):
By surrounding yourself withpositive, like-minded people who
you choose to be part of yourlife, will always attract more
peace, gratitude and love.
The views and opinionsexpressed by Nearest And Dearest

(15:16):
Podcast are those of theauthors and do not necessarily
reflect the official policy orposition of Nearest And Dearest
Podcast.
Any content provided by JulieRogers or any other authors are
of their opinion.
They are not intended to malignany religion, ethnic group,

(15:36):
club, organization, company,individual or anyone or anything
.
Thank you.