March 2004 | April 2004 »
Discarded
This is a picture I took towards the end of last October. It was the day that we brought Maggie home from the shelter to live with us.
A man drove out into a heavily wooded, mountainous area of the county just as the nights were starting to turn frosty. When he thought he found a suitable spot, he dumped Maggie and another dog out on the side of the road and drove quickly away. A woman who lived nearby saw him and went out to check on the dogs. She called the shelter and they came to pick the dogs up.
It makes me sad to this day to think that someone would just dump a pet in the middle of nowhere. Maggie is an old dog, but she is the most grateful, loving and obedient dog I have ever had. Sometimes I just don't understand people. I am not a person who goes nuts about animals and their treatment because I think there are more horrifying things that happen in this world every day to human beings. I just don't understand how human beings can be so callous in so many ways.
Twelve + Thirteen
Lily will be twelve this summer. While going through the pictures in this plastic tub, I came across a picture taken when I was thirteen. My best friend, Dee Dee Fortin, took it and it is dated May 1979. I looked long at this picture. It was familiar, but suddenly I was seeing it through a different lens. My mother had redecorated this room and moved my sister into a different bedroom so that I could have a bedroom all my own. I remember her bringing wallpaper books home to peruse as she redecorated the entire house. We lived in an old Victorian house on the nicest street in town. A street lined with huge elm trees and wonderfully different, but equally nice houses from the same era.
I vaguely remember how it all came to be, but I really have no recollection at all of choosing wallpaper with columns of what appear to be blue cabbages up and down them. Neither do I remember choosing a glaringly blue carpet or a powder blue bed ensemble with more ruffles than any dress a Southern belle might wear. What I do remember is coming home from school one day, when I was twelve, and my mother opening the door to what was now my bedroom. I remember the feeling of freedom it evoked. No little sister muss and fuss. Just me and my Donny and Marie eight-tracks playing as loud as the player could manage. (Mind you, these were given to me by a friend who was a Donny and Marie fanatic and, at the time, I was under the impression that one must play what one has available. I actually much preferred Rod Stewart.) I felt like I was in some heavenly realm and I never wanted to go back to sharing a room with anyone. Of course, when I went off to college it became a necessity. I then married Will and now only occasionally dream of having my own room.
I decided to set this picture aside to show Lily what I looked like when I was about her age; hoping to give her some insight into the fact that I was not always a thirty-eight-year-old mother. When the girls came home from their piano lessons, I brought out the picture to show them. There I was, posed on the window sill of my bedroom. Thirteen. Skinny. Wearing my favorite shirt and framed by columns of blue cabbages. I was wondering what Lily's response would be, but unprepared for it. Lily was speechless. I looked at Clara and Clara spoke what Lily was unable to.
"Mommy, you had boobage!"
Now I think I remember why that was my favorite shirt.
There Is Something
So moist and blue.
They tell me of a time when limbs cooperated in the dance,
Fluid and true.
When youth had its own heaviness.
----
There is something wonderful in that soft curve of cheek,
So warm and new.
As I rock you off to sleep,
Like your brother before you.
Your nose more freckled,
His more fair.
---
There is something endearing in that manner of expression,
So incredulous with eyes fluttering wide.
I love the way you make everything I say
Seem so interesting.
The way you turn my children
Into beautiful points of pride.
---
I know why God calls us a family.
While Jesus was still talking to the crowd, his mother and brothers stood outside, wanting to speak to him. Someone told him, "Your mother and brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you." He replied to him, "Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?" Pointing to his disciples, he said, "Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother." Matthew 12:46-50
The Friday Five #3
If you...
1. ...owned a restaurant, what kind of food would you serve?
I could see myself owning a restaurant that sold just coffee and dessert. I would serve all types of coffee and the best desserts on the planet. As far as I am concerned, dessert is the one, truly necessary, food group. And, of course, I would serve lots and lots of flan. Maybe I could call the place Just Desserts.
2. ...owned a small store, what kind of merchandise would you sell?
I would sell old books. I would love to have an antiquarian book store. It might go well with my coffee and dessert shop.
3. ...wrote a book, what genre would it be?
Definitely, any book that I initially write will be autobiographical fiction. That's where all of my writing eventually leads me.
4. ...ran a school, what would you teach?
I would love to be around small children, but I would never propose to teach them anything in the traditional, academic sense of the word. I would read lots of good books to them and let them have lots of time to play. We wouldn't have a lot of toys, but we would have an amazing amount of hardwood blocks, dress-up clothes, art supplies and small, felt dolls. We would go for nature walks, listen and dance to all kinds of music and I would show them how to do different handicrafts. I would insist that the parents play a strong role in the program similar to a co-op program. In the end, though, I would prefer that the mothers stay home with their children and do all these things with them. That's why I homeschool.
5. ...recorded an album, what kind of music would be on it?
With the right musicians, I would record an album of instrumental bluegrass hymns or maybe some instrumental Quaker hymns.
Tom
That was my Saturday. I didn't mention falling asleep on the loveseat after I had vacuumed behind it, did I? Well, a nap should have been on that list of things needed to be done. I would have assured myself greater success by listing at least one nap.
My Sunday was much different than my Saturday aside from the nap I took on the loveseat after church. I stayed up much too late on Saturday night and did not want to get out of bed Sunday morning. My thinking gets muddled when I have only gotten a couple hours of sleep and I groan pathetically whenever anyone says anything above a whisper. Will would have none of it, though, and told me to push myself. I did as requested. We all got to church in time for Sunday school classes. Will has a separate class that he has been attending that is about leadership. I have been attending the main class in the auditorium. We are starting a new class this term. I was very sleepy, but the lesson revolved around whether the modern-day Jew is still waiting for the Messiah. The gentleman teaching the class used some information he found on the web at Judaism 101. It was fairly interesting because I had always assumed that Jews were still waiting for their Messiah. It suddenly seemed odd to me that I have known many Jewish people and have never attempted to ask them about their beliefs on that particular topic. I used to work as a nanny when Will and I were first married. I worked for two different Jewish families and never once did I broach the subject. I am usually more inquisitive than that. I suppose I didn't want to jeopardize my position by having them think I might have strong Christian beliefs. One family included me in some of their holiday observances and I really appreciated that. This was also the same family that would openly speak with distaste about Christians. I am glad that I am not a person that things like that stick to. I often find it interesting how much I can remember about my life without it having any actual weight to it. I love people and I love their idiosyncrasies. God did make us wonderfully interesting.
The thing that happened this weekend and left a most heavy imprint on me, though, happened as we were singing the invitational hymn. The hymn that is supposed to encourage those who need to be baptized to come forward. Will and I were sitting by ourselves up front on the far left. We always sit there. Lily had decided to sit with the youth group and Clara sat nearby with her friend's family. We all stood and sang I Surrender All. The nice thing about the church of Christ is that we sing a cappella. Sitting up front, like we do, we have the advantage of hearing all those behind us and it is quite beautiful and uplifting. As I was in the middle of singing, something behind me caught my attention. The man that was in the pew behind us had suddenly passed out. I turned around to find him lying limply in the pew at rather an odd angle. His face was unnaturally red and his hands were quite blue. His breathing was shallow. I didn't know this man. We have an attendance of about four hundred, but it is rare for me to not know at least a person's face. Someone yelled out for Dr. Brady and within seconds there was Dr. Brady with Gina. Gina is a nurse and works at Dr. Brady's office now, but she used to work as a paramedic. I suddenly realized that this man had a little girl standing over him in tears and that she was getting in Dr. Brady's way. I took her hand and had her come sit with me where she could still see her father, but not be in the way. I talked to her and told her that everything was going to be all right. I hated the feeling that I might be lying to her, but I didn't think I was important enough in her life for her to lose complete faith in human beings, if things went awry. This is harder to do with one's own children. Or, at least, it should be.
I found out, through talking with this girl, that her name was Alex and that she was eight. I also found that she had a brother named Beau standing with rather large eyes on the other end of their pew. I brought him around with his sister. Apparently, they had only just started visiting our congregation. They told me that sometimes this happens to their father and that their mother wasn't there because they were divorced. She lived nearby, though, and Alex had her cell phone number memorized. When the paramedics got there, the congregation was in the middle of singing the closing hymn and it struck me as both odd and beautiful. I took both of the children by the hand and led them to the office to call their mother. They didn't want to go, but they limply followed me when I took them each by the hand. I didn't think they needed to be there for all of the paramedic action. I called their mother and told her what was happening and she seemed oddly detached saying something about this wasn't the first time this had happened. I told her that I would wait for her at the church and she could decide what to do when she got there. I had assumed that she would want to find someone to watch the children while she went to the hospital. Am I so naive? I let the children talk to their mother for a minute and then we went back in to check on their father. He was standing up white-knuckling the back of a pew. The lead paramedic told me that they were encouraging him to let them take him to the hospital. They even had the gurney popped open and ready to go, but the man was refusing. The paramedic talked pleasantly with the children for a minute and then looked back to me and said that they couldn't force him to go because the man was lucid. The paramedics packed up and left the man to Dr. Brady. When the mother arrived, most of the congregation had departed. She took the children by the hand and told them to hug their father goodbye. She was going to take them with her to a friend's baby shower. There was some discussion about getting the children's things out of their father's car and, then, they were gone.
By this time, we were out in the foyer and I was sitting on the floor in front of the man that I finally had a name for, Tom. Tom was sitting on a bench looking quite beaten. We talked for a while and it seemed that Tom has been quite depressed and under a lot of stress during this divorce. He had actually spent three days at a nearby hospital that is considered as having one of our country's best cardiothoracic units. They didn't know what was wrong with him. He couldn't sleep anymore and he wasn't eating anymore. All this he was telling me and I could sense that the only reason he was sharing this with me was because he was still very shaken. You could see that he was at a point in his life where he felt completely beaten down. I found a couple who were willing to drive him home while one of them followed in their own car.
As he left, I gave him a phone directory and pointed to the page with our picture and phone number and told him to call us if he needed anything. I could no longer resist the urge to hug him and so I did. Then he was gone.
On the way home, I sat in the car feeling horrible. Divorce is a terrible thing. It is too foreign to me. I can't imagine not caring about William. I can't imagine seeing him in so much despair and just walking away from him.
The Friday Five #2
1. What was the last song you heard?
Try by Nelly Furtado.
I love the lyrics:
All I know / Is everything is not as it's sold / But the more I grow the less I know / And I have lived so many lives / Though I'm not old / And the more I see the less I grow / The fewer the seeds the more I sow / Then I see you standing there / Wanting more from me / And all I can do is try / Then I see you standing there / Wanting more from me / And all I can do is try / I wish I hadn't seen all the realness / And all the real people are really not real at all / The more I learn the more I cry / As I say goodbye to a way of life / I thought I had designed for me / Then I see you standing there / Wanting more from me / And all I can do is try / Then I see you standing there / I'm all I'll ever be / But all I can do is try / Try / All the moments that already passed / We'll try to go back and make them last / All of the things we want each other to be / We never will be, we never will be / And that's wonderful, and that's life / And that's you, baby / This is me, baby / And we are, we are, we are, we are / Free / In our love / We are free in our love
2. What were the last two movies you saw?
I watched most of The Hunt for Red October on Wednesday night, but I started falling asleep on the couch and had to go to bed. The last time I went to the theater to see a movie was last summer when Will and I took Lily to see Sea Biscuit. Lily feels that this is pathetic and that I need to get out to see more movies, but I am usually satisfied with waiting until they come out on video.
3. What were the last three things you purchased?
Well, Will and I purchased a new vacuum cleaner. Basically, I researched what I wanted and he brought it home for me. I now have a purple Dyson that really sucks. (Sorry, I couldn't resist.) Since Will's birthday was this week, the other two purchases that come to mind are the two dozen roses that I helped the girls to order for Will and a multi-player computer game that I thought Will would enjoy, Battlefield 1942. He is already addicted to Tribes II. I thought maybe it was time for some variety.
4. What four things do you need to do this weekend?
There are too many things that I need to do this weekend. I suppose, if I whittle my list down to four things, I might actually accomplish one thing.
I need to clean the living room.
I need to clean the bathroom.
I need to go to church on Sunday.
Shoot! That's enough for two days.
5. Who are the last five people you talked to?
Since Will, Lily and Clara just walked in the door and we all exchanged greetings, that leaves me to ponder who else I have talked to recently. I apologized to Maggie when she barked at me to let her in the back door. Does chatting online with someone count? Will's brother, Paul, messaged me a bit ago asking what we were having for supper over here. He was having hot dogs and I was having Chinese leftovers. I guess he figured there wouldn't be enough leftovers to go around, so he stuck to his hot dog story.
The Friday 5
What was...
1. ...your first grade teacher's name?
Mrs. Desrosiers. I was so shy in her class that I would refuse to come up to the table at the front of the room with my reading group to practice reading. I really loved Mrs. Desrosiers, but I will never forget the day that she literally pulled me out of my desk and dragged me to the front of the classroom so that I would finally learn to read. Once I was up there and my dignity returned, I realized that reading was not only easy, but also great fun! I remember that we used the 1962 version of the Dick and Jane first grade reader, Fun With Our Friends, and I remember seeing the word "said" a lot. Looking back on this, I have to say I love Mrs. Desrosiers even more today. She wasn't young when I was in first grade, but I would like to find someone in her family to thank.
2. ...your favorite Saturday morning cartoon?
(Okay, so it wasn't exactly a cartoon, but it was my favorite Saturday morning fare.)
3. ...the name of your very first best friend?
Elizabeth, my sister. When I was in first grade, though, I considered a girl named Tracy my best friend. She used to meet me at my house and we would walk to school together. My mother told me later that she was from a poor family. I do remember my mother often taking the time to brush Tracy's hair and put it up in bows, but I never remember thinking she was poor or neglected. I just remember her being my best friend.
4. ...your favorite breakfast cereal?
(In case you're interested, the Snorkeldorf character was my favorite.)
5. ...your favorite thing to do after school?
When not watching Batman re-runs, I spent a lot of my time lying around in the grass on warm, sunny days reading books, daydreaming and occasionally weaving mats out of iris leaves. I also loved to ride my bike and try to find interesting places to go to. During the colder months, I spent time outside sledding and ice skating until the sun went down and then I would lie around the house reading, daydreaming and writing stories.
I have a picture of my first grade teacher and my friend, Tracy, taken when my mother came to visit one day at school. I will upload them tomorrow, if I can find them.
Me (with Mrs. Desrosiers)
Tracy (wearing glasses)
