Around 2:30 P.M. on Christmas Day, I opened my computer and showed Marilyn my post ‘Christmas with Eutrophia’. No sooner did she see the top photo, Mariliyn says;
“She looks like Heather.”
Marilyn and I were high school sweethearts. She came over so I would not spend Christmas alone. I now explained how I had a real change of heart after I noticed how much my daughter looked like my grandmother’s sister we Presco Cildren never got to meet, because her husband, John Kelly, shot his beautiful wife dead with a shotgun. Mary Magdalene Rosamond raised the two sons of Eutrophia Maude Wieneke, along with her four beautiful daughter, June, Bonnie, Rosemary, and Lillian the daughters of the writer, Royal Rosamond.
It was Lillian who told me about Eutrophia whom I never knew existed. John had been wounded in WW1, and supposedly had a plate in his head that caused him to become homicidal. But, if you look at the photos of the Kellys, it is clear they hate each other, and Eutrophia is afraid of John. She has the look of condemned woman. I will speculate what may have really happened in my book. But, what is clear, Eutrophia has chosen the wrong man who can barely feed his family. Eutrophia looks hungry. I suspect my grandfather has arranged for her to model for, food! Royal knew some famous photographers.
In April of 2000 I had a dream. My beautiful angel introduced a beautiful young woman to me;
“This is your daughter!”
I called up my best friend, Michael Harkins, who does PI work, and he agreed to help me find my daughter that a seer said I had in 1987. A week later I got a call from a woman;
“My name is Patrice. You probably don’t remember me. I have something important to tell you.”
“I know. We have a daughter!” I interrupted.
“How did you know?”
“My angel told me.”
Patrice Hanson did not hear “My” because she is a big believer in angels, and has them all over her house. This would be a point of contention over whose angel appeared to me in my dream.
In 1993, I began my autobiography ‘Bonds With Angel’ in hope the rent in Christine’s and my relationship could be repaired. The Angel in my book is the one Christine and Vicki saw in their bedroom when they were ten and six. I now believe that Angel is Eutrophia.
For an hour my dear friend and I talked about the bad choices women make, and they get stuck. They grow to hate the men they once loved. I told Marilyn I am going back into therapy next week because I had come to hate my daughter for the bad choices she made, especially in the bonds Heather made with men. When I showed her the photo of a young Holly Hunt, Marilyn exclaimed; “She looks like me!” I suspect Holly is part Native American, as is Marilyn, thus those cheekbones.
Marilyn and I talked about how her mother got stuck, along with her and I when we were sixteen and seventeen. Marie was going to call the police if I ever saw her daughter again. Because of Eutrophia, who lost her life because she made a bad choice, I have found forgiveness for Heather, and am doing my best to see her world view, her story.
I video-taped my dear friend’s advice to me. She has been on my side, forever. She offered to defend me from Belle and her gang. She grew up with Christine and knows all about the family art. When I got sober I did work with incest survivors that helped Marilyn and her kindred. I wanted to help Rena, whom I wish the best on this day. Below is a video of M and I playing with my new toy.
Below is a photo of Mary Magdalene Rosamond raising six children by herself. She made hats. She died never seeing or speaking to the father of her children in over thirty years. Before Mary died, Rosemary said she wanted to speak to me at her death bed. I wondered what family secret she would lay on me that would even make my life even more complex. However, I believe I know ‘The Secret’. It has to do with the little girl you see standing on the car. Who is she? Where is she?
Look at the group photo below. I have been placed in the middle, a place of honor. I have just come back from New York where I lived for nine months. That is Mary standing on the far left, beholding her extended family, her tribe. If she had not stepped in, then the offspring of Eutrophia, would not exist.
Harold, Bob, Eddie, Margaret, Edra, Collen, Miesha, Kelly.
The only ambition my mother had for me was to be a Franciscan Monk. However, when she told me this when I was fifteen, I felt it was what Mary wanted me to become. I now get it. I was Mary’s favorite. I lived with her for about six months when I was seven. What Mary is beholding in her family reunion, is not a Presco, or a Rosamond, but, a Wieneke. I am the family historian, and family genealogist, who is carrying a spiritual issue. I have got my offspring back. I own the end of my story ‘Capturing Beauty’.
When I arrived home, my mother told me Marilyn called four days earlier. She wanted to see me before she sailed for France.
Heather Marie Hanson was conceived on Christmas Eve, 1983, and born on Rosemary’s birthday. If my famous sister had not died, and a website made to sell her beautiful women, Heather and I would never have met. Eutrophia, and her cousin Phillipine, were models. I did a watercolor of Heather. She modeled for me. I captured her beauty.