Hello World!

November 12, 1982. 5:05 PM. I made my grand entrance into this world. I was 19 1/2 inches long and weighed in at an even 6 lbs. I was soon nicknamed 'Rosebud' and 'Peanut' because of my small size. 

I was given the name, Tonya Carin Reiff. The story I remember is that it was because my Dad liked the artist Tanya Tucker, but my Mom didn't want it spelled with an 'A'. Here's a picture of me with my parents, about 3 months old.

I was a definitely a Daddy's girl. I remember my Mom telling me how I could be so fussy all day but then be the happiest little girl the moment my Dad came home. Sorry Mama. 

My Daddy and Me

I developed an early love for animals. I love them and miss having a kitty to snuggle. I attribute my affection for animals, especially cats, to a special bond with my first kitty, Sugar Bear. When I was a baby, I had a very quiet cry. Even with a baby monitor, there were often times my parents couldn't hear me. Sugar Bear, who had her own challenge of being blind in one eye, would always successfully get their attention. This is a picture of me with her. 

As would be expected, I loved my toys, especially dolls and stuffed animals. I also enjoyed my naps, although I suspect I once fought them as my kids do now. If only we knew at that early age what a treat naps are. :)

Hiding in my stockpile of toys.

  

Napping on my grandma's couch

I was the oldest. In June of 1984, I received the gift of a baby brother and in September 1985, a baby sister. I took my role as the oldest seriously, maybe a bit much at times. I'm sure they have called me bossy. But I love them dearly and always want to see them happy. 

My brother and I. 

 Oh man, as I typed the caption for the above photo, I spotted the balloon and started laughing. So, that picture was taken on my 2nd birthday. The Miss Piggy balloon came with a gift. Being helium, we tied it to a chair to keep it in one spot. That night, it had come loose and was floating around our house, eventually making its way into my room. I woke up and was very frightened by this. So funny now. 

Sissy and Me.

Well, that's a start. More to come as time allows. :)

Agnes Haugsdal

Since writing my 2 week notice intentions on Monday, I have been struggling on how to actually start my story. I mean, logically I should start at the beginning. However, I think you are all smart people and obviously I was born and went through the normal stages of baby and toddler life. Yes, I would like to share some pictures and info from that time of my life, but I have felt strongly urged to write this story first.

Today is my Great-Grandma Haugsdal's birthday. She gets to celebrate with Jesus and has for the past 23 years.

Her and I had a special bond. I like to think that we still do. We shared the same great birthday month and a love for the color pink. She taught me many things, even though I was very little.

Agnes holding me.

I loved going to her house. I would play dress up. She had this red petticoat that I loved to wear and I am sure it played a role in my love for frilly girly things. We would bake. Always something yummy and made from scratch. She had a special apron that I got to wear, again frilly with lace. I remember watching her sew and wanting to know how to do that. I would go to garage sales with her and my grandma and I would often get a little gift, my favorite of which was a purple and pink popple. Do you remember those?

Mine looked just like this.

One day, not long after she bought me that popple, my little world was crushed. In July of 1989, I lost my Great-Grandma. One of my closest friends. I was only 6. I honestly can't tell you if this was my 'first' experience with losing someone, but it is the first that I remember. I cried for what seemed like forever. I cry now. My grandma tells me I cried the most out of anyone.

Within a few months of her passing away, we moved from the home I had lived in since birth into her home. I remember crying myself to sleep many nights, laying there in her house and missing her so much. I would squeeze my popple and I had this hat that had been hers that I would wear or hold on to. At such a young age, I just couldn't understand why this had happened. All I knew is that it hurt.

Soon, in an effort to cope, I began suppressing memories. I didn't want to feel that pain again. Even now, as I type, the pain stings. I know I am still only scratching the surface, but this is why I felt the need to share this first. I don't feel like I have the same childhood memories as others because I have blocked so much of it in my effort to protect myself from feeling the pain. Most of my memories are from pictures I have and being told the stories of what happened.

I know she is still with me and I see her in many ways in my life. I see her in the color pink. I see her in rubber bands, which I remember always seeing on her wrist. I see her when I sew, as I use her old sewing box for my spools of thread and needles and such. I see her when I put on the frilly lace apron that I still love to wear as I bake 'old-fashioned' goodies.

I miss her a lot. I long to have had her around longer to have learned more from her. I wish I could have one more hug.

This may be an unusual start to a story, but it is a key part of what shaped my childhood.

Great-Grandma Haugsdal with the love of her life

Happy Birthday Agnes Haugsdal!