Hello! Welcome to Raina's page!
Born in Eureka, California, my parents moved me, after Mother burned all my black babydolls, to Jackson, Mississippi, in 1958. All my siblings were married, except for one sister, who was 3-1/2 years older than I. (I have since forgiven Mother for burning my dolls.)
While my sister seemed to settle in Mississippi a little better than I did, I was not a very good little southern girl and was determined to return to Eureka at the earliest possible moment. I quickly learned, however, not to mention it to my parents who, after some profound persuasion, told me I would never leave Mississippi -- ever. Regardless, after 3-1/2 years there, we did leave, taking up residence in Beaver Dam, Kentucky, then St. Louis, Missouri.
I met my present husband in St. Louis, and we dated for over 2 years, but he broke up with me when he moved to the West Coast. I later met my first husband in southern Illinois. Married at 19, I moved with him to Minneapolis, Minnesota. He was immediately drafted for Viet Nam, but he never left the States; rather, we moved to Laurel, Maryland, where his talent as a mathematician was used until he was discharged. I was six months pregnant with our first child -- a little girl -- who was born in Minnesota.
During my first husband's time in the service, my present husband was also drafted, fought in Viet Nam as a machine gunner, and was wounded when a soaking-wet bunker fell upon him, breaking his back. He was sent to Hawaii to recuperate, and there, he married a young lady to whom he had been engaged. They had one son then adopted a 3-year-old girl.
When my first husband was 29 and our daughter was 3-1/2, we had our little son. He was barely two when my first husband was killed in an airplane accident. After the initial shock, I tried dating but hated it. The experiences made me determined to never marry again, so I concentrated on my children and moved them to my old hometown, Eureka, California. The Social Security benefits were nice; however, I knew that the time would come when I needed to be able to support myself and my children. All I had was a diploma from a high school with a 75% drop-out rate, plus a few college classes -- not enough to earn any money.
Father had been a minister in the very fundamentalist Pentecostal Apostolic Faith Church and neither the church nor my parents believed in attending college. I was still a member in that church but went back to college anyway, mainly attending the College of the Redwoods. I majored in English and hoped to gain a teaching degree at Humboldt State University.
When my second spring semester was over, I received the news that my present husband's wife had died. As a friend to both of them, I thought I should make some attempt to comfort him, so we met at a convention on the West Coast. We married in 1987, putting our two families together -- two girls and two boys -- all teens. I never got to finish school, and it was a very -- uh -- exciting time in our lives. Fortunately, we all lived through it, my children grew to be wonderful, productive adults, now married with families.
We have been through a lot -- from my getting kicked out of that church after 57 years' attendance, to my choosing to be Reformed rather than Arminian and, well, stuff I'd rather not name specifically -- but we've made it.
As you can see, I am not a scholar: I am obviously just an average person with many interests, a lot of curiosity -- and very strong opinions and a willingness to tell what my strong opinions are. Except when it comes to certain things about that church.
2012 March -- Time has gone on. Since the above, the children and grandchildren have all grown older, I have gone back to work and have no intention of ever retiring.
2016 April -- What I did not mention above is that I have had PBC (Primary Biliary Cholangitis) since approximately 1991. PBC is an insidious little autoimmune disease that tends to wreak havoc on the body in a variety of ways. According to the doctors, I was supposed to have died by the end of 2011, but I fooled them all. I am now in stage 4, the final stage, which means that I now have cirrhosis of the liver as though I have been a heavy drinker. I've always despised the taste and smell of alcohol and avoided it. How ironic.
I thought the disease and life would be more manageable if I lost weight, so when I turned 60 in 2009, I requested of G-D a birthday present: weight loss. None of the diet programs I had tried ever worked for me, but I felt confident about this one. At the time of my request, I weighed 237. By the next birthday, I weighed 187, and on the following birthday, I weighed 157. Over the following years, I got down to 114-119, where I remain. It's a good thing I lost the weight, because I spend a lot of time in bed now, and I have gained back 30 pounds. Yes, I had to retire, and now my work is just keeping our little house clean with a lot of help from my husband.
I feel like my end is nearing, yet I would not be surprised to live to be 90. Who knows.
2018 January -- So above, in 2016 April, I wrote, "I feel like my end is nearing,..." Hee-hee! I'm still around and I don't feel like that at all. Raina (talk) 20:37, 4 January 2018 (UTC)
2021 March -- Remember the song that said, "Uh, uh, uh, uh, Stayin' alive, Stayin' alive . . . ." That is me! A bit worse in some ways, a bit better in others but still here. Raina (talk) 17:37, 3 March 2021 (UTC)