of wedlock. At least little Sally’s not alone anymore. Yet, I knew they would wear the stigma for years to come. I thanked God it wasn’t me.
Emaline wrote long detailed letters of both hope and despair as her grief ebbed and gushed through those long wintry months. Springtime saw a different flavor emerge from the pages of Hallmark stationery, (the Company Store’s very best brand). A strawberry flavor. She began dating a boy named John Davidson and soon, rather than grief, I sensed romance in bloom. I was happy for her.
Daniel’s letters came regularly. My heart did a funny little leap each time I saw the envelope addressed to me with his scrawly handwriting.
~~~~~
To divert my angst that following year, I focused on the North/South cultural differences into which I was thrust. Southern girls considered soft-spokenness right up there with lace on panties. Northern females valued volume. And while a few Dixie chicks — like Mama — drank, most were discreet, considering anything otherwise unladylike. Northern women freely and openly imbibed. Raucous hen parties occurred weekly in homes, highlighted with drinking and hair-tinting, a process of foamy mixtures applied with toothbrushes.
I learned the proof and age of each bottle of liquor in Aunt Dottie’s well-stocked pantry. Games. Those and school activities helped ease my homesickness.
During recess, I joined in a popular game called Rooster Fight. Beside tame southern competition, this one was quite aggressive. The rules were to draw a circle, in which two opponents balanced on one foot. Each draped their arms around themselves, like in a straight jacket. The idea was to bump each other out of the circle. Being competitive and agile, I couldn’t resist the challenge. I won most every time. It made up, in a tiny way, for my deprivation of Daniel and Emaline.
It also vented my anger at being uprooted.
~~~~~
When Francine began coughing more than usual, we all attributed it to her heavy smoking. But when blood showed up in her spit, a big alarm went off.
Turned out Francine had tuberculosis.
She was quickly quarantined in Aunt Elsie’s apartment, since there were no children there and she could have her own quarters. We weren’t allowed to visit her at all, except for Daddy and Aunt Dottie, which compounded my depression. Tack Turner made three trips to Chicago in the coming months to see Francine, defying doctor’s orders to visit her room. And Francine, being so lonely and all, was uncommonly grateful.
Looking back, I do believe Francine’s greatest tribulation during that long health-bout was the aloneness, preceded only by the denial of cigarettes. She’d handled Nana’s switchings much more gracefully than the nearly yearlong, smoke-free lock-up.
I finished my junior year in high school. Daniel sent pictures of himself in cap and gown, that big ol’ grin of his stretching from ear to ear, warming me right down to my toes and drawing tears to my eyes. I hated so much missing his graduation. Finding a solitary moment in my room, I had a good old-fashioned crying spell. I felt deprived of Gladys’ prayers more than ever in that moment.
I wrote him a poem for his graduation gift, following a solitary walk in a nearby park:
EARLY MORNING WONDER
Each lovely joy encountered today
Each sweet sound heard along the way
Down the trail to sense the sight
Back again ‘neath gray sky bright.
Strange to me once again
Common ‘cause its always been
To see, to sense, to hold, to know
You are everywhere I go.
You really are heart of my heart
You really are a living part
Of what I am and am to be.
I am no longer I-but I am we.
How I love you
I do not know
It is just good
To love you so.
Sunny
I was on my own. I prayed as I hadn’t in years.
Lord, please get me home. Someway. I don’t care how. I’m so unhappy here. If you do, I’ll be ever so grateful. Amen.
~~~~~
Our father rarely mentioned Mama anymore. Looking back, I think we all
Emaline wrote long detailed letters of both hope and despair as her grief ebbed and gushed through those long wintry months. Springtime saw a different flavor emerge from the pages of Hallmark stationery, (the Company Store’s very best brand). A strawberry flavor. She began dating a boy named John Davidson and soon, rather than grief, I sensed romance in bloom. I was happy for her.
Daniel’s letters came regularly. My heart did a funny little leap each time I saw the envelope addressed to me with his scrawly handwriting.
~~~~~
To divert my angst that following year, I focused on the North/South cultural differences into which I was thrust. Southern girls considered soft-spokenness right up there with lace on panties. Northern females valued volume. And while a few Dixie chicks — like Mama — drank, most were discreet, considering anything otherwise unladylike. Northern women freely and openly imbibed. Raucous hen parties occurred weekly in homes, highlighted with drinking and hair-tinting, a process of foamy mixtures applied with toothbrushes.
I learned the proof and age of each bottle of liquor in Aunt Dottie’s well-stocked pantry. Games. Those and school activities helped ease my homesickness.
During recess, I joined in a popular game called Rooster Fight. Beside tame southern competition, this one was quite aggressive. The rules were to draw a circle, in which two opponents balanced on one foot. Each draped their arms around themselves, like in a straight jacket. The idea was to bump each other out of the circle. Being competitive and agile, I couldn’t resist the challenge. I won most every time. It made up, in a tiny way, for my deprivation of Daniel and Emaline.
It also vented my anger at being uprooted.
~~~~~
When Francine began coughing more than usual, we all attributed it to her heavy smoking. But when blood showed up in her spit, a big alarm went off.
Turned out Francine had tuberculosis.
She was quickly quarantined in Aunt Elsie’s apartment, since there were no children there and she could have her own quarters. We weren’t allowed to visit her at all, except for Daddy and Aunt Dottie, which compounded my depression. Tack Turner made three trips to Chicago in the coming months to see Francine, defying doctor’s orders to visit her room. And Francine, being so lonely and all, was uncommonly grateful.
Looking back, I do believe Francine’s greatest tribulation during that long health-bout was the aloneness, preceded only by the denial of cigarettes. She’d handled Nana’s switchings much more gracefully than the nearly yearlong, smoke-free lock-up.
I finished my junior year in high school. Daniel sent pictures of himself in cap and gown, that big ol’ grin of his stretching from ear to ear, warming me right down to my toes and drawing tears to my eyes. I hated so much missing his graduation. Finding a solitary moment in my room, I had a good old-fashioned crying spell. I felt deprived of Gladys’ prayers more than ever in that moment.
I wrote him a poem for his graduation gift, following a solitary walk in a nearby park:
EARLY MORNING WONDER
Each lovely joy encountered today
Each sweet sound heard along the way
Down the trail to sense the sight
Back again ‘neath gray sky bright.
Strange to me once again
Common ‘cause its always been
To see, to sense, to hold, to know
You are everywhere I go.
You really are heart of my heart
You really are a living part
Of what I am and am to be.
I am no longer I-but I am we.
How I love you
I do not know
It is just good
To love you so.
Sunny
I was on my own. I prayed as I hadn’t in years.
Lord, please get me home. Someway. I don’t care how. I’m so unhappy here. If you do, I’ll be ever so grateful. Amen.
~~~~~
Our father rarely mentioned Mama anymore. Looking back, I think we all
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