I was a serious child.
I watched them slaughter the animals for our food.
I fed the chickens, and looked into the smelly pit where dead animals were thrown till they were covered up.
When our dog got hit by a car, I watched as a neighbor got his gun and shot it.
A horse kicked my sister when we tried to pet it.
Someone stole my new skates at the schoolyard where I played sometimes.
The Public School kids taunted us “Cat-lickers.”
My sister and I nearly got killed by a train, walking on the tracks, one time.
My mother complained often that there wasn’t enough money.
I watched her give whole days to doing the laundry, putting it through the ringer and hanging it out in the yard, bringing it in later, stiff and cold, then to be ironed.
Our house was small, and the floors were cold.
My sheets were cold, so I would steel myself to stay there until they got warm.
My younger brother and sister were there, somewhere, not important to me then.
My school uniform was home made, not store bought, which was not good enough.
I had my vaccinations at the Public Health Clinic, and my parents took me to the dentist at least once a year. I had a lot of cavities.
I had my tonsils and adnoids out when I was six, chickenpox and both kinds of measles in those years. My sister had mumps but I don’t remember that myself.
Skipper (whose name was really Glenn) was my best friend, until he discovered girls, and then he passed me by on the street without even saying hello.
We kids had to pull weeds and mow the lawn.
I got in big trouble with my Dad for tying the sawhorses together.
If we didn’t do right, my Dad had creative ways of enforcing the rules.
I would get a stomach ache over being nervous about anything, but my Dad made me go through with it anyway, whatever it was, a recital or long new walk to school.
One of those neighbors groped me, so I never went there again. I told my mother he was a “bad man”, but she didn’t get it, and I didn’t tell anyone else for years.
My best friend was named Sandy, but I haven’t seen or heard from her in years now. I don’t think I was very much fun.
We never got an allowance.
We went to beach for family outings, and twice we camped overnight, but my mother complained a lot.
I played teacher, priest, hospital, hotel and restaurantuer.
I accepted that I was a female and had better learn how to do that.
By the time I was five I knew there was no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny, and that my parents did those nice things for us.
We went to church as a family absolutely every Sunday and all the observed the church Holy Days. We all went to Catholic schools through high school, and three of us through University. None of us are very good Catholics now.
But I loved sitting out in the yard, watching the progress of ants and sow bugs.
The afternoons lasted forever, especially on hot days.
Patty, my sister, was always quietly there with me.
We walked wherever we wanted to go without worrying much.
We spent a lot of time catching “doodle bugs” through sifting dirt.
We spent more time making mud pies and having those kinds of tea parties.
I read a lot of books. I really lived in those stories. I would go to school early and stay late to help the teacher. In the summer I went to help cover books.
I went barefoot and wore jeans at home.
My sister Pat could be talked into giving me a backrub most any night.
I always got good grades in school. My Dad smiled when he looked at my report cards.
I found that if I smiled, so did others.
We went on safaris in a neighbor’s back yard.
We knew our neighbors, old people who gave us cookies and cool aide and let us play with their cats or pet their rabbits. They were all addressed as Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt or Uncle.
My mother and dad really talked to us, and listened too. So did my Grandmother.
I went to work with my Dad on his truck, canvassing the neighborhood, getting work lined up for him. He paid me 5c a tree.
I spent a week each summer at my cousin’s house, swimming in their pool, meeting their friends, soaking up hospitality.
I loved my cousin Mike dearly, the most fun, the closest to me in age.
When I was fourteen I spent the summer helping with kid crafts at a nearby school. I also read Jane Eyre for the first time, and became a romantic in my mind.
I babysat for neighbors and earned my own money from the time I was twelve.
One neighbor taught me a little German.
Lorraine talked with me endlessly when I was thirteen, and became my Confirmation sponsor. I still think the world of her.
Mrs. Gombert taught me how to do her housework.
I attended high school with all girl classes, which was a very good thing.
Our street was lined with palm trees that made wonderful sounds in the wind.
I talked to God every day, out in the yard most often, but also in bed before I went to sleep.
I clearly remember standing by the flowers with bees and butterflies flitting around, thinking to myself: I want to remember this day always. I still remember it.
When I told my Dad I wanted to go to University, he said he couldn’t pay for it. I said that was OK, that I would figure it out. He smiled. I did.
When my Dad was dying he talked a lot about his life and what he learned. He expressed confidence in me then, that I still feel.
I was already grown up then. I am not sure when that happened exactly. I don’t think I was ever “child like,” in the sense of being foolish or fooled. I have always been this “old”, and no older. I still like the same things, smile at people, and forgive everyone everything. They’re all doing the best they can with what they have, just as I am.
I have loved my life. Insert here forty five years of wife, mother, teacher, principal, sister, friend, homemaker, a thousand books read, dissident Catholic, grandmother, dog lover, bird watcher, artist, writer, traveller, student, photographer and bus driver. My hair is grey, but my weight is OK and I am in very good health. I am not done yet!
---------------------------------------------------
Comments & Questions? Email: womenbefriends@yahoo.com
