But first some background, since you only seem to focus on Joe's role in all of this. Judy and Kathy moved to St. Joe to co-manage the Thrifty Nickel. Judy and Kevin were separated, and Kathy was divorced but having a hard time leaving her life with Jack. She had been a top salesperson in Hobbs, New Mexico, and wanted to continue on that path. Judy was typesetting at Thrifty Nickel in Odessa, Texas, so it seemed like a great combination. However, Kathy was no saint, and she could not bear to live without a man. After sleeping with her boss and various other employees, the work environment was tense. Judy and Kathy made a plan to quit, but when that moment came Kathy bailed on her promises and left Judy to pick up the pieces. Not the first time, and certainly not the last. Kathy had to be in control, and if that didn't work out, she would throw her famous temper tantrums. Surely you have experienced some of those. I moved up to that Zone of Ignorance to escape Chris' stalking and had no guarantee of a job. Once a position opened up at the Thrifty Nickel I applied, and interviewed with Steve M., since he had the final word. I had impressive skills in the darkroom and was great at typesetting - Judy trained both me and Kathy on the typesetting process. Compared to the other papers we had worked at, TN was a joke, and we all made fun of it together. Mom moved out there to be close to Brad and Shannon - not to ruin their marriage - as Joe and Kathy had repeated often. They were split up when Kathy came out to my farm and said she had an idea for a business, and I agreed to get in on it. We started it, both of us, together. At the beginning Kathy promised she would sell, that she missed it. I never said I would, and she knew that. I did everything else but sell. I went to the post office and recreated lots of mailing lists, I established and delivered to stand routes, I helped negotiate with PC's Plus for the computer lease. When Kathy decided she didn't want to sell advertising, it was a letdown, but we agreed to hire a commissions-only salesperson to get that going. Then Joe wanted in, and Kathy caved, leaving me under the bus. Joe dared to tell me to sell the farm, why didn't he just get another job? All that man could do was sell (only in his small area), while I had a number of talents that would have been put to use if I hadn't wasted so much time waiting for Kathy to get a backbone. The two of them fought constantly, it was annoying to hear Joe go on and on about how great he was and depressing to see Kathy so unable to stand her ground and move on. We had plenty of good times, but this has caused both Judy and I to have to defend our relationship - that's a shame. However, it's only to Joe and my kids that we have to explain anything, EVERYONE else knows. Honestly, I think Joe understood far more than my kids do, he was witness to the way Carley and Brad treated all of us through the years and surely had a sense of Shannon's behavior as far as her disloyalty to me and my family. If you consider a christian to be a person that has no hate in their heart and only love for all souls, then Kathy was not a christian. She despised Carley and was so disappointed in Brad for the damage they caused to our family. And she hated the drinking, drugs, and tumulus lifestyle that always consumed Joe. I remember the girl who got on the stage at Kathy's funeral, she cried about the way they had treated Kathy, how she cleaned up and hovered over all the drunks. Too late for that, couldn't they see the destruction when it was going on? Such simple, selfish, stupid people.
Joe said that for the past two years Kathy had changed her mind about things, and that he thought my letter to her was devastating. I'm sure it was, but we watched Kathy unravel as early as the spring of 2018, and it was necessary for truth to shock her back to reality. Her posts on Facebook became radicalized, mean, judgmental - not her character at all. Kathy comes from a family of strong, independent women, and her former wide view of the world got smaller and smaller. Surrounded by a petty coven of small-minded women, she had gradually sunk to their level. That's what it looks like from the outside of that area looking in - white people spewing racism, misogynist (female versions), homophobic, holier-than-thou gossips - worshiping political figures as if they were christ incarnate. Which went against everything Kathy stood for, it fragmented her personality, trying to integrate all that hate with the values she had espoused as an ambassador promoting Grandma Layton's legacy. Do you think I was the only person who blocked her from Facebook? I didn't until she got vicious, spouting views on abortion and trashing me and others that I love in public, and defending Carley, white-washing and lying along the way. Don't forget, I was in California when Kathy was pregnant - and that's all I'm going to say about that topic. Those actions don't hold in the world outside of that coven, and the farther out there she got, the harder her spirit fought to find an anchor. Kathy prayed desperately for relief of her RA pain, homeless cats and dogs, trump, random sick people on social media, and for her wayward husband to quit cheating, drinking, and smoking pot. Can you picture that, a woman earnestly praying, pleading, begging, for years and years? It just breaks my heart that you wouldn't see any of that. Years of unanswered prayers and then BAM! Joe's back. And then her other god loses the white house, Jimmie Johnson quit racing, then Linda gets covid and dies. And the battle with Linda's kids. And Joe's heart attack, and his sudden preaching, bible-thumping - and finally, her crippled body, the one that Joe refused to take care of for DECADES, became the caretaker. It wears me out just typing about it. Kathy's painful battle with RA was completely ignored with all of Joe's drama. After voicing our own concerns and urging from friends (several of them psychologist friends we met through Grandma's following) we went to St. Joe under the guise of her birthday - an intervention if necessary. Lots of red flags ominously predicted what was to come: none of them wore masks when we went out to eat, (Kathy bought the hype and thought she was protected), talk about Joe's plans for a traveling ministry show (Jesus Christ!), RV's, the home she loved and all the things she would have to leave behind... it was a real shitshow. Kathy was subdued - broken.
The hateful texts to Judy came shortly after that visit. To say we were caught out of the blue is an extreme understatement. Kathy was lying about the lake house and Globe Publishing; we could only assume it was to dig up money for Joe's next big dream. She had lost her damn mind, rapidly texting hateful, hurtful things to Judy and Dane, and trying to pit me against them. What did you expect us to do, roll over and say, "Oh, okay, here's the money, and sorry for helping you out when you wanted us to"? Kathy went in on the Lakehouse deal as a way to get away from Joe, an escape house if needed. Even Joe knew that. I have all the emails from the inception of Globe Publishing also, the bills, the money put in and taken out, the money owed - and Kathy repeating over and over, "Don't tell Joe." I have always paid Kathy first and the most, in spite of her continually saying, "No, pay yourself, you give me too much of the money." Did either of you read all of those crazy texts, or only my response? You were obviously told only one side of that estrangement - there were five people involved, and three of us were attacked unmercifully. It was NONE of your business.

Like Judy Kay says, "I feel ya, Grandma".

I walk bent, my head twisted toward the ground.
My eyes watching the earth at my feet, my neck is too tired to hold my head up, so I see only dirt at my feet.
My back weak, my neck tired, I see only the earth and humanity at my feet.
One time I walked straight, my head held high.
I felt the warmth of the sun on my face, I saw the searching tops of the tallest trees.
Back then I thought I saw hope, but now I know that was just an illusion.
My heart aches with open wounds - the losses of years past have never healed - they don't fester, but they don't heal.
I am obligated to walk until the day when the final wound will destroy my heart.
I lay down, and once again feel the suns warmth. Life is not only for the strong, but also for the helpless, those without hope, we must walk one more day, and one more day, waiting for the final round.
Look at the wounds on my heart. Can you see that there is room for only one or two more? This one is for brother, Debbie, the calf, the child, the parent.
Debbie, the little girl who fought cancer for a year, but always hopeless from the first day the cancer word was spoken. The hopelessness started years before, I don’t remember when.
This scar is for my child, my son. All I know of him is a cry at his birth - I will always hear that cry in my heart for a child, my child. written by Kay sometime in the mid 1980's

For as long as I can remember our mother was depressed. Of course, there were plenty of good, happy days, so many happy memories we have shared through the years, but always a sad undercurrent ran through. As her daughter I didn't understand the depth of her sadness, I suppose I assumed it was because she was a single mother with no child support raising three daughters, along with all life's tragedies and setbacks that everybody must endure. We girls did not know about the son mom had given up for adoption, and she never mentioned him to us, even on her death bed. Until I read this poem of hers, I didn't realize the depth of her grief. We wish she would have told us, but Mom was so private, and perhaps the telling would hurt more.
Mom has been gone for eighteen years now, and it still hurts to know more of her sorrow. Yet I am consoled by this knowledge of a facet of her remarkable story, from her perspective. Mom was Elizabeth's fourth child, and anyone who has read Elizabeth's biography/memoir "Signs Along the Way" knows that Mom's childhood was anything but easy. All of the siblings had traumatic experiences while growing up and had to make tough decisions that affected their entire lives. But they were also very close, and also did what they could to help each other work through their traumas. Mom was, as were her siblings, beautiful, intelligent, independent, strong, and industrious - traits they got from their mother. Fortunately for us they were also a family of writers, and saved a lot of their correspondence, poetry, short stories, and journals.
Through the years I have also written down some of my life experiences, as I'm sure a lot of us do. Hopefully my own kids will be interested enough in me to read through them, and not wait until I'm dead. I now know more about my mother as a child, woman, provider, poet, teenager, person, some of her hopes and dreams - her character is so much more than I ever imagined. I understand her better than before, and that soothes my soul.

“It’s funny how sometimes the people you’d take a bullet for are the ones behind the trigger.” – Unknown

Even though it had been ten years since the last electric shock treatment, the sisters were still uneasy when their mother would offer to take her grandchildren out for the day. They could never be sure if Elizabeth was suffering a manic phase or dare to hope that this might be a hint of the return of their once adventurous mother. Elizabeth was adept at masking her depression when she had to and keeping busy with the grandchildren added some structure and light to a boring and restrictive household routine. Besides, she loved being a grandmother, and was determined not to let anyone hold her back from fulfilling those duties.
From page 228 of "Signs Along the Way"

It is so good for us that Grandma Layton was so involved in our lives, in spite of our mother's initial resistance. I can't even imagine a childhood without my grandmother in it... Would I know how to swim? Or sew? Or read, or write a book? Or spell supercalifragilisticexpiali-docious? Or learn grace, independence, and how to write a thank you card? I don't know, maybe. Well, probably - Mom was taught well by her mother and she passed along those finer qualities - but it was a lot more fun with Grandma!
Mom adored her grandchildren, and she led them down a more cultural path: weekends at the Renaissance Festival, art shows, National Geographic magazines, telescopes, microscopes - and she attended every school and 4-H function she could - proudly applauding with every award collected by her little geniuses.
Alas - half-truths and outright lies, ulterior motives and control issues (among other character flaws) from a certain in-law have fathered family estrangements, and I have been branded a pariah by some souls I love the most - unable to heed my grandmotherly calling. The truth about grandmothers is that we are also mothers. And granddaughters. We've lived the spectrum and will never settle for any of those roles by title only. What woman wants to go through the hard work of raising a child and then be denied the joys of playing with her grandchildren? I would have been a wonderful grandma - I did learn from the very best!
Grandma Layton's Mother's Day drawing is at the head of this conversation, the caption reads: "Here sits the Matriarch on her throne, taking, taking, yet demanding more. I call this my sick cow look." I couldn't have gifted this drawing to a more deserving person... Carla


“It’s funny how sometimes the people you’d take a bullet for are the ones behind the trigger.” – Unknown