Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Grandpop Scott

Grandpop Scott was my mom's father. He stood about 5'3", he had a small frame but he was strong. He was pretty goodlooking and had a "high-yellow" complexion. From what I remember that was talked about around the dinner table, he was from NJ. I don't know how he ended up in Ambler, nor do I remember much about his mother (Nanny). She lived at 331 Woodland Ave with Grandmom and Grandpop until I was 3 or 4. The Scott family started out at #4 North St. I believe my grandpop worked at the asbestos mill in those days. He came home covered in the stuff. They moved to Woodland Ave when the family started to grow. They raised 7 children, all but one still living. My grandpop was a hard working man. He placed high value on education. He read voraciously. He got the Philadelphia Bulletin and Philadelphia Inquirer. He got educational magazines like National Geographic, New Yorker and Smithsonian, just to name a few. He liked to talk about current events. He was always ready for a conversation. He did not medically qualify for the armed services during WWII, but served on the Civil Defense league. He took his responsibility very seriously. When there was a drill, he was one of the men that patrolled the streets and made sure that people put down the blackout shades. He worked at the Ambler Movie Theater as a janitor. My mom remembers getting to see movies for free after she helped him clean up. I believe my grandpop's rules for life included getting a job to help out the family no matter how old you were. Another doctrine was after high school you went in the service or college. At least that's how I saw it. He was very big on historically black colleges and universities. I should have applied at Spelman. Instead I applied and got in to Wellsley. I should have gone to Spelman, I'm pretty sure I would have got in. I know that he loved me and wanted the best for me. We used to talk about life in the family room. Once, my picture was in the paper and it earned a spot in the family scrapbook. I got to interview him for my modern American history class. The assignment was to interview 2 people in the WWII era. I interview cousin Greenie Flowers for military service as he was in the Navy, and my grandpop for the homefront. Both of them told me stories, and it was from Greenie that I learned that the military was segregated until 1948. My grandpop pulled out all of his press clippings and read me the section about the Japanese were in negotiations with the US right up until Pearl Harbor. He said that's why they weren't ready. My grandpop was rough-handed man too. I miss his kisses and the way he would tickle me until I couldn't breath. I've always felt guilty for dropping out of college. I felt like I let him down. I am working on remedying that now. I want him to be proud of me. I could use his advice too. 

Sketches of a Bipolar Girl: Hey God

Hey God! Yeah, I'm taking to you.  All I want to know is why.  Why don't you hear me? Why don't you do something to help me and my family?  Yeah, I know I haven't been praying or going to mass like I should, but that quite frankly is your fault. I have come to you in deep sorrow, panic, humility and love.  I have prayed to you for things that are needed, yet still I hear nothing, I see nothing.  Are you really there or are you just a myth made from the minds of men in order to control people.  I am not so sure anymore. I am tired of crying, begging and pleading for you to help me. It is said that you help people in your own time.  Well, I've been waiting for 30 years.  When is it my turn? Where is my breakthrough?  I am so angry with you right now, I can hardly stand it.  All I want is a well paying job that will allow me to support myself and help my family.  I ask for blessings, you throw rocks. I'm not asking you to perform a miracle. I'm just asking for help!!! PLEASE