Loss of a Friend

September 1st 2019 a very dear person passed away. It was his birthday. He and I were close. For almost 13 years he was my friend. He and I were so close he knew things about me that not many people know. Not even my own family. He knew the darkness that lives inside me. It has since been slowly eating my soul again. I tried to hide it. Post happy things on Facebook. Pretend I’m okay when I’m not. I’m still sad.

I feel like he was my only real friend. Now he’s gone. Some days I find myself going to message him or leave a comment on his wall. But then I realize that the person who once would respond. Won’t anymore. It’s crazy that a man who lived on the other side of the world impacted me so much. But he knew me. The real me. The sad part of me. The dark part of me. The part of me that no one else knows. He knew the many things that my own siblings would know nothing of me. Not that they would care. They are so into their own lives I feel like if I told them how I really felt they would brush it off. That is why I loved Kaj. He would listen. He wouldn’t push me away. He would make everything ok. I confided in him when I felt I needed to and it’s because I could trust him. Now I’m on my own.

R.I.P Kaj Henry Osterberg

Thank you for being there for me when no one else was. You’re loved and missed ❤️

You cannot stop loving your friend because he's dead, especially if he was better than anyone alive, you know      

Jerome Salinger

Autism - Exposing your kid to the world

I am writing this as a blog about my own thoughts and experiences as a mom with a kid/teen on the spectrum. I am in no way shape or form shaming parents. I feel like we all have our own ways of raising our kids. But I am gonna express a message I received last night about my son.

How can you take him on vacation or trips? Aren't you afraid what people will say or do? Don't you want to shelter him from the public? There is no way I could do that. My family doesn't do anything like that because we don't want people to stare or question. We don't want to face the public. I don't know how your family does it. 

I have to say that I am not gonna judge because not every family has the same relation to the broad spectrum. As her son is more higher functioning than Landon but still tends to have meltdowns. He can talk. Whereas my son doesn't. He makes noises, screeches and yells but its mostly mumbles. 

How can we take him on vacation or trips? Why not? Landon is a part of our family. Hes our kid. I didn't carry him for nine months and fed, bathed and change (still do) him everyday just to exclude him from the same experiences his non special needs siblings have. He has every right to experience vacations to Louisiana and the Great Lakes as we do. Road trips are the best! He got to experience the ocean for the first time last summer and guess what? HE LOVED IT!. Not so much the taste of it but he loved the waves crashing into him. He loved the different foods he got to try. He had a meltdown in the French Quarter but we redirected that quickly and he was fine. He did great on that trip and we were so proud of him.

He did awesome in Gettysburg, Washington D.C, Baltimore, Fort McHenry and Valley Forge too. Granted he did try to go for a swim in the Potomac River. Just last weekend he got to experience Lake Michigan for the first time and screamed because it was so cold. We did our first ever camping trip and took the kids up to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan where he got to see waterfalls, more lakes and the Soo Locks. He did great and we never once had a meltdown or issue. Why? Cause hes used to being out in public. We have been taking him out and experiencing the public since he was diagnosed at 2. This past Saturday we all went to downtown Detroit and guess what? He did great. No meltdowns. All smiles. Even said HI! to multiple people passing by and nobody stared at him or judged him. 

We have never sheltered him no matter how ugly the public can be. Trust me when I say we dealt with our fair share of UGLY from the public. Stares. Comments. No matter what you do its gonna happen. The best thing you can do about it is to tell yourself that "that's the reflection of who they are as a person" and not your son or daughter. I have learned that when people stare I stare back and I mean I STARE right back at them. To the point that they feel uncomfortable. I find it amusing actually. But you gotta do it sometimes. As a parent we have to protect our kids. But we also have to get them used to the world. The world can be a scary place. But it also can be a great place. 

Sheltering them in my opinion only prevents them from experiencing the good things that we all get to enjoy. Special needs or not. A kid should experience life. Sheltering is not living. Its surviving.

I'm a mom of four

I was in the store with my kids when a lady standing next to me out of the blue says "I don't know how people do it with more than one kid, I would go insane". I couldn't help but giggle.  We watched another lady walk through the aisle with six kids. I couldn't help but look at her and said I could cause you see I am a mom of four kids. Two teenagers and two preteens and there are days I don't know how I do it either. But I see the reward in it too. Don't get me wrong there are days where I want to pitch a tent in my house with a sign that says "MOM IS OUT OF ORDER" Hell....

I don't know how my mom did it with six! But I gotta honestly say I always wanted a big family. Especially after having my daughter Cheyenne. It was just normal to me to want her to have siblings because I have five of my own. Which is why I looked at the woman and said "I do because I'm a mom of four. Four awesome kids who sure have their moments of driving me crazy, they bicker, they yell, ya know the good ole sibling rivalry. They have their precious moments as well. My four stick up for each other, talk about the latest craze, watch movies and anime together. They are there in ways siblings should be. Which is what I had growing up. Sure my siblings and I bickered but even as adults we have each others back.

I have people approach me to tell me I have my hands full. I have people stare at me because they think I'm too young to have four kids. I had a bus driver question if I was my fourteen year old sons mother because she said I looked too young to be his mom. Its amazing what people think, stare or even just outright say. Its a matter of if you care or not. Which is why I found it funny why the woman felt the need to even say it when she saw a woman with a group of kids walking through the aisle. I have been in that womans shoes. So I sympathized for her.

But as a mom of four you will never hear me say "I don't know how people have only one kid" because maybe one kid is good for them. That's their prerogative. Kids are a handful. I'm not gonna sugarcoat it. But I will say that I don't regret having a big family. I love my four to the moon and back. They keep me going. They make me laugh all the time. They chase me through the house to show me vines on youtube, the latest Kpop video or even a song they know that will annoy me to no end. Sure they drive me crazy but I wouldn't trade them for anything.

Rather a big family works for you or not. Its always best to remember that parents with more than one kid are living their lives with how they see fit just like you are.

All I gotta say is I can't imagine life without these four faces

Dream of a Russian invasion? It felt real

If you’re in my spiritual and dreams group on Facebook you have read about my extremely detailed dreams. I dream  every time I fall asleep. Some dreams are of my mom who died 8 years ago, some are sinister and involves  a lot of gore and violence. I always hate those dreams. They feel too real.  I also have had dreams of random events, hiding from strangers, traveling to many different places all in one dream or my least favorite running from war.

I had a dream that our tiny city here in Michigan was being attacked by extremists with tanks and I’m trying to run with my four kids. Where my husband is in this dream I never find out. But I tried to save my kids running from gunfire that never hits us and tanks that get closer and closer. As we are running from a tank that is right behind us my legs go in slow mo. I get to the point where I can’t run anymore and as I turn to look behind me at the tank I wake myself up not wanting to know what was gonna happen. I hope I never have that dream ever again.

But this dream was... It was a dream that felt so real I had to tell my husband about it. I couldn’t believe how real it felt. So I’m sharing this on here.

I am walking down the street with another girl and we turn to check ourselves out in a shops window. I am wearing a blue dress (which I find odd because I never wear dresses. Ever)  so I look at the other girl and out of nowhere this American soldier is grabbing us and telling us to run. So I go to run past him and he yells “ no not that way, the Russians are throwing toxic gas at the people. So he pulls me back and says run behind me and fast.” I look and see Russian soldiers running towards us. I then turn, I look at this American soldiers face and I just ran. I ran and ran until I couldn’t anymore. I’m not sure if something hits me but then the dream switches to me walking out of a building and a Russian man walks over to me and speaks to me in Russian. He seems to know me, as he smiles at puts his arms around me. I seem to understand him but in my head I hear the Russian as if it’s a foreign language. I know I understand him because I reply back in Russian and the freaky part about the whole moment  is I don’t speak Russian. So the man lets me go as a Russian soldier walks up. He looks down at me, smiles and walks away with the soldier and as they walk up a staircase into another building I hear a lady with a group of teenage girls yell my name “Amelia! Get down her we gotta go.” As she’s looking up at my with a concerned look on her face. So I run down the stairs and get in line with a group of girls I don’t know but one I seem to be friends with because she puts her arm around me and says “ walk fast”. So here I am walking with two adult women and a group of girls ina hurry when the women stop us and say “ come on in here” and we all make our way into a corridor.

As we are walking through we are told to look for a red door. I’m looking around at many different red doors thinking “ pretty much every door is red” so I walk to many to try and open them and they don’t budge. I back up from one door only to watch another red door crack open. And a young woman stands looking at us. She then opens the door and says in English “ this way and quick” As we are led down a spiral stairway I couldn’t help but realize we were going into hiding. And as we hurried into her house, yes it was a house, we were told that we were safe there.

As I make my way into her living room I look to realize my son Landon and my brother norman are there. Only to be told my son is actually my little brother in this dream. Everyone is talking to the young woman who tells us she is a author and has written many books. Showing us her books and everyone is smiling and talking. It was then that we heard a noise above us. The atmosphere changed. The woman turns off the lights. Tells us all to be quiet and she goes through the door leading to the stairwell. We all stand in complete silence as we hear more knocking, banging, some gunfire and her yelling no in Russian and screams. I run into the kitchen to hide as I hear footsteps running down the stairs. At this point I didn’t want to know what was going to happen. I didn’t want to seee the girls die or what was gonna happen to my son or my brother. I didn’t want to know. So I woke myself ya. I woke up and looked around my room thanking god it was a dream. But you know what I hate about the dream? The legit fear I felt. I felt the danger and fear not only from myself but also from every person in that room.

How do I remember details in my dreams? I am not sure but every dream I have ever had I always remember. I have many I could share that felt real. Like the dream I had a few days after my mom died she had came to me in a dream and the hug she gave me felt so real that I could feel her cheek touching mine. I woke up crying that morning. Missing my mom more.

I know what you’re probably thinking. I must have watched a war movie last night and it caused my dream. No. Actually I watched a found footage movie of the Phoenix lights in 97 last night. It was about aliens. Very entertaining. But this dream came outta nowhere and I hope I don’t repeat it. I don’t want to know what happens.

Isolation- What a Special Needs Parent

Doesn’t need. I have experienced this myself among family, friends and total strangers. It’s the loneliest feeling on the planet and I have a few special needs moms that would agree. It hurts the soul. Let me give you an example. My dad had my siblings and their families over for dinner but not once was my family ever invited. Never mentioned it either in fact I had no clue until a sibling said something and it did bother me cause o know it’s becahse of Landon. Just like many parties or social events. It’s the reason I literally don’t care to go. Granted I missed a cousins wedding for my kid cause my kid wanted me there. I’m gonna choose my daughter first and foremost.

I was talking with a band mom before the homecoming football game about this very subject. Her sister is going through the same. Left out a lot and was never invited to functions let alone play dates. I told her I knew how that felt. I have lost friends. I have learned to isolate myself from everyone because I feel like I can’t relate to no one. She said that her sister has done the same and it’s sad. There is nothing like feeling that you don’t belong in a room full of people when you mention the fact that you have four kids and one is special needs. It’s like they make their fingers into a cross sign and get away as fast as they can. I literally felt that way last week talking to a few band moms.

It’s like your kid has a disease they’re afraid of catching. It pisses me off so much and I just want to go off sometimes. But I don’t. I walk away. Go to the stands  and wait for my kid to greet me in her marching band uniform. Honestly the mention of a special needs mom makes you see the true colors of people. Maybe they do it because they don’t know hoe to relate or what to say. Maybe their ignorance is getting the best of them. Maybe they feel sorry for me and don’t know how to express it in fear of offending me.

Here’s a clue. I’m a human being. Treat me like you would anyone else. You can talk to me I won’t bite. I have an eclectic taste in music and movies. I love history. Books. I could recommend some great books depending on your genre. I don’t know much about art but hey we can conversate about art or sculptures if you like. Hell even sports. Maybe not much baseball but I do like football and hockey. If you want to talk about everyday life and raising teenagers hey I’m down for that too.

I read the article the other day on this very subject. It’s sad that it’s even a subject. It’s ansolutely heartbreaking to know that many special needs parents feel the way I do. Why should it be that way? Just cause people can’t relate or feel sorry for us. Don’t. We don’t need sympathy for raising a child or children who won’t have the easiest life. What we need from you is a sense of belonging. If you can do that for a special needs parent it would make a huge impact. Trust me cause I always wish someone aside for my hisband was there for me.

To those who judge

To the women who felt the need to yell at me and call the Sheriffs Department on me today. Thanks for that. Thanks for showing me that there is judgmental ignorant people in this world. You yelled at me from your fancy cars. Feeling the need to distract me from my 14 year old teenaged boy who got our of our front yard. If you would've taken the time to listen to me through your unwanted shouting while you're driving down Cass Ave. You would've heard me say
MY SON IS SPECIAL NEEDS AND HES TRYING TO GET AWAY. HE HAS NO FEAR. HE DOESN'T SEE CARS AS DANGER. I'M JUST TRYING TO SAVE HIM!!!But no instead you yell at me to let him go. Yeah let him go so you can watch him run into traffic and die. Right? Let him run in front of cars like he has done so many times. So many times we had to resort to alarms on all windows and doors and extra locks everywhere. We have to watch him like a hawk when we're outside cause you never know when hes gonna decide to book it for the busy road.You're so worried about me holding my kid down but I didn't see any of you pull over to ask maybe just maybe what was going on. No instead you call the Sheriffs department. The very sheriffs department that knows our kid who has ran from them many times across traffic without getting hurt. Yeah... You who watched me get kicked and slapped and hair pulled trying to keep him from getting away. Yeah YOU. YOU are the reason I hate people. You are the reason I feel like the human race is doomed. You who felt the need to judge me without knowing my story. I bet you couldn't walk a day in my shoes. You have no idea what I go through day in and day out and yet in a way I think you could care less. Maybe next time take the time to find out whats going on and help instead of judging a mom whose already being knocked to the ground. Cause today I felt not only the weight of my kid almost dying. But the weight of anger, sadness, hate and resentment. Bruised, broken and sick of life. Yet these are the SAME perfect people who criticize parents whose kids are on the autism spectrum that get out of the house and end miles away from home or hurt and sometimes dead. These are the same people who comment "WHERE WERE THE PARENTS?" Well I was one of those parents today. Trying my damndest to save my kid and you treated me like garbage you saw on the ground but instead of picking it up, you stepped on it anyway. I hope you don't receive the same treatment that you gave me.

In conclusion to this rant:
YOU can take your judgement and shove it where the sun doesn't shine.

Sincerely,

Mom of a teenager on the spectrum who eloped today

My Finnish Roots

Part one:


When I was a kid I always wondered what my dads background was. I knew his mom, my grandma Aggie was Spanish and English but I didn't know anything about his dad. In fact his dad was a touchy subject. Still is to this day. 

I did get to meet Norman Chester Anderson. I only got to meet him once from what I remember. I remember being a little kid and my parents taking my siblings and I to his house, I remember my mom telling me to give my grandpa Anderson a hug and I remember looking at her like "I have a grandpa?" It wasn't a very long visit. I only remember looking up at him, giving him a hug and that's about the gist of it.

I never saw him again after that. My parents tried to get him to see us six kids. They tried to get him to be a part of our lives but he showed no interest and that was his and his wifes choice. They chose to not know us. Its sad. That I had a chance at having a grandpa (my moms dad died when she was 20) and he chose not to be our grandpa. So there is a lot of resentment there on my dads part. I can't say I blame him as Norman wasn't really a dad nor was he a grandfather. My grandma Aggie and my grandma Sarah were the only two grandparents I knew. So growing up I didn't know any cousins from the Anderson side at all. -

It was when I did a DNA test a few years ago that I learned that my dads dad Norman Chester Anderson was 100% Finnish. His father was Juho Emil Pyykko born on September 19 1892 in Muhos, Finland. His mother was Matilda Sihverintytär Pyykko. Matilda was born on July 6 1861 in Utajärvi, Finland. When Juho and his mother left Finland he was 15 years old. The family in Finland believe she left Finland with Juho because she was afraid that as soon as he came of age he would be put into the Russian army. After her husband died it was just her and Juho. There were family in Michigan that convinced her that she should leave and immigrate to Michigan for a better life. So Matilda and Juho made the journey from Northern Finland to Hanko, Finland to get on the ship Urania to head to Liverpool, England.

Who was Juho Emils father? That is unknown as his birth record doesn't show a father. It only shows his mother and godparents. 

This is Juho Emil Pyykko record of birth from Muhos, Finland 

On March 8, 1907, Matilda and John boarded the Urania and were on their way to England.

By September 8, 1907, they were at Liverpool, England.  They boarded the British ship called the Empress of Brittain.  

Detailed passenger information   

Last name  Pyykkö  

First names Matilda 
Age or age class  41
Port of departure  Hanko 

Place of destination  Quebec
State of destination  PQ

Country of destination CDN
Price of ticket  USD 41  

Ship from Finland  Urania
Date of departure from Finland  03.08.1907  

Ship from England  Empress of Britain 
Date of departure from England  09.08.1907   

Ocean Line  C.P.R. Line
Port of departure in England  *
List and page  59/43 

Its makes me wonder what my great grandfather was thinking when he was making this journey to America. A new country. A place where he has to learn a new language. A place that he would live in for the rest of his life. It makes me wonder what was going through his mind as a fifteen year old kid. 

This photo of Juho Emil was taken in Michigan

Matilda and Juho made their journey from Canada to Michigan. Matilda actually went by Tillie to many relatives here in Michigan. In the 1920 Federal Census, she lived with a cousin, Fredrika Hoppala.  She lived in Traverse City, Michigan behind a bar. She moved to the upper peninsula of Michigan to a town called Laurium. According to family who I have found told me that Matilda had a green thumb. She had gardens of vegetables, flowers and fruit trees. She smoked a pipe every night before bed and according to a cousin, Matilda never learned English. She only spoke Finnish. But she was a tiny and refined woman who chopped wood all the way into her 80s.

These are photos of my great great grandmother Matilda Pyykko. My cousin Carol graciously shared a treasure trove of photos with me.

Juho Emil Pyykko changed his name to John Emil Anderson. He served in the US Army and was a private in the air service for World War 1. The family believes he changed his name for the Army to Americanize it. When you look at the surname Pyykko you wouldn't know that its pronounced Boooka. This is his WW1 Draft record. Ignore his date of birth. Its wrong. 

Amazing how his mother moved him from Finland to prevent him from being thrown into the Russian army and here it shows he fought for a country he immigrated to many years before.

He was a man of many trades who loved photography and played the Kantele, a Finnish stringed instrument. He met and courted a Finnish girl by the name of Ellen Lyytikainen and for their first date he made her a pair of skis. This is a photo of John and Ellen on skis he made.

He fell in love with Ellen and asked her to marry him. They were married on May 25 1918 in Oneco, Houghton, Michigan. This is their marriage record. 

I remember the first time I saw their photo (courtesy of my cousin Carol) I was in absolute awe. I saw a photo of a lovely couple. This is the photo she shared with me. I was told it was originally on the wall in their house in Gay, Michigan.

And this one too

Before DNA I had no idea about my Finnish background. I didn't know where the Anderson family came from or what to expect. Then Ancestry showed my top ethnicities and Finland/Northwest Russia showed up at the top I was actually shocked. It was then I asked my friend aka adopted uncle Kaj Osterberg if he could help me with my search. He is the reason it all began and I always give him the credit because without him I wouldn't have had a clue how to start in Finland. When he found me on Myspace the first thing he told me was that I look like a Finnish girl. Who would've thought how right he was when it came to my background. He is the kindest man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He lives in Helsinki, he found me on Myspace because we share a common taste in music (Johnny Cash, Elvis, all the greats) and I am so happy he did. That was almost 12 years ago. I have never met him but for me he is family and that is why I call him my adopted uncle. He actually shares a ancestor with my mom. That was a great find!

I remember asking my grandma Aggie about Norman Chester Anderson. So one day she decided to share photos with me of them. 

This is a photo of Agnes Evangeline Vasquez and Norman Chester Anderson, my grandparents. I believe she said this was before they were married. They were married on July 2 1946 in Pontiac, Michigan. Norman was 22 and Agnes was 20. 

Another photo of Norman and Agnes Anderson with my aunt Janice.

I believe she told me that they were introduced to each other by a friend and they started dating. Then they married and had four kids, Janice, Gary, Norman and Johnny.

My dad and his siblings were raised Jehovah Witness. My dad was disfellowshipped and was estranged from his dad. He ended up leaving home and my grandma Sarah and grandpa Junnie ended up taking him in. That is where the story of my parents begin. It was with my mothers parents that my dad learned what love was. He learned how to hug. Say I love you. He learned a lot from them. My mom used to talk about how she didn't like him in school. But it was after he started to live with them was when he grew on her. We used to laugh at that story. Then they got married (mom was 20 and dad was 19) on June 6 1970 in Livingston County, Michigan.

My parents high school photos


Sarah Elnora Johnson                                                                                Norman C Anderson

                          

                                                                                     

Norman C Anderson, my dad was a blond when he was a kid. I didn't believe it until my grandma Aggie showed me a photo of him. It was crazy seeing him with blond hair. Gotta love how genetics change.

My dad doesn't like to talk about his dad. He does sometimes mention his grandpa John, Says he remembers him speaking in Finnish. He only got to see him a few times I believe seeing as John lived in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and my dad lived in Detroit. He remembers going into the sauna with his cousins and jumping in the lake after. Its a Finnish thing.

Ever since I started this genealogy and DNA journey I have learned a lot. I have learned about a country I had no idea I had a connection to. I learned how some Finns changed their surnames whenever they moved and I learned that researching Finnish ancestry can be rewarding and frustrating. Which why this is gonna be a part one of many. Cause there is a lot to share. I hope hope you enjoyed this so far because this is where I finally belong. I no longer question my ancestry on my dads side because here it is in photos and stories.