Drowning

Jan 26, 2019

We frequently went on vacations with my Aunt Margie’s family. We would rent cabins up north and have a huge week long family party. It was usually my parents and Mary and I, , my aunt and uncle and their three boys, and maybe later Liz and Cousin John. Those trips ended one year, probably because they were too expensive, or because life changed, but I remember some fun times.

 I was around 4 or 5 and it was the day we were leaving. To say goodbye to the lake, we walked out on the pier and for some reason, I decided to bend over and drizzle sand in the water. My eldest cousin walked behind me and brushed into me, and I tumbled head first into the water. I panicked. I swallowed water and couldn’t see. My cousin jumped in the water and got me out before any damage was done. I did have to ride home in wet clothes, though.
To this day I tell people he pushed me in... he retorts that at least he saved me. And as a result, I have an intense hesitation at diving head first into any lake, river or pool of water. Luckily I look crappy in a swim suit so not swimming isn’t a great sacrifice for me.

Catching up

Jan 25, 2019

Ok, it is actually the 27th and I am catching up. I have been blogging in my head, so here goes.

As a child, I was never the fastest or best athlete, but I completely tried. I gave my all, but as far as gym class or sports, I did not have a competitive nature. I really wanted two things...to be a good sport and to have fun.
If I could cheer lead for both teams I would. I have always been an optimist. If i lost a serious game of tag, I would remember that I didn’t push anyone over.
If I couldn’t find you during hide and go seek, I would commend your choice of hiding places. I think part of it was because I refused to accept anyone’s criticism of my performance. How sad for someone to say...you really can’t catch, and hear me answer, well you are a powerful hitter. No one can make your frailties a fault, it you augment their skills.
Maybe I should have been a professional supporter.

The future

Jan 24, 2019

I wanted to be a cowgirl like Dale Evans. Should have moved to Texas.

I wanted to be a Mom. Harder than taking care of my baby dolls.

I wanted to be a nun but even Sister Marie Edward ultimately left the order, and she was perfect.

I wanted to be a ballerina, but didn’t have the dedication.

I wanted to be a chef, but preferred to cook for fun.

I wanted to be a lawyer, but that was too much work.

I wanted to be a doctor or nurse...nah! That only lasted a day or two.

I wanted to be the best at one thing, but became ok at many things,

I still don’t know what I want to be, but I will some day.

Special nights

Jan 23, 2019

When we were younger, there were big movies. Films like Sound of Music and My Fair Lady were shown downtown at a theater. Attending The Ice Capades and stage shows were rare. Tickets were purchased ahead of time and it was like attending a Broadway show or event.
When mom and dad wanted to expose us to movies and the arts, we would prepare for weeks. Mary and I had to be on our best behavior the week before the show or we couldn’t go. Our table manners had to be perfect as well, because the show was preceded by a dinner at a good restaurant. I mean soup and salad...entree...cocktails (kiddie, but a cocktail none the less)...dessert. It was a time for us to be wined and dined like adults and then off to the event. We wore our Sunday best. We acted like ladies.
My parents raised us to be a tribute to them. We would be gracious to the wait staff, respectful to our parents and other adults we would meet, and good to each other.
It was easy because by learning how to act in public, we became better, more gracious adults. By learning to appreciate the people who waited on us, seated us and even took our tickets, we learned that everyone is important and should be thanked for the service they give. And by these events being few and far between, they were so very special and created a lasting memory for us.

The library

Jan 22, 2019

When I was in first grade Milwaukee opened the Atkinson library. It was half mile from my school and we would have field trips, walking from 25th and Capitol to 19th and. Atkinson. After my quick trip to library school at the age of 4, this was heaven.
My favorite story is one of our first trips there. My mom was chaperoning the trip and when we arrived we gathered in a room to hear from the librarian before we could get a book. As usual, I was fooling around so when I got to the room, all the front chairs were filled. I wanted a front chair, and based on my actions, I felt I deserved one. I simply walked to the front, tapped a little girl from my class.on the shoulder and signaled to her that she should get up and give me her seat..
My mother was mortified by my actions, and more shocked when the little girl got up and moved to a back row.
I must have had a secret, bossiness that my mom never saw. At home I was Mary’s little sister and not a demanding child. She saw, at the library, that I was not all I appeared to be.
I probably got first choice on books too...but my mom never told that part of the story. Just that I went to the library, and I OWNED IT. Still makes me laugh today to think of my mom telling that story over and over when people told her I was a sweet, kind child. They never would have known without the library story.

First story

Jan 21 2019

When I was in grade school I started writing. My memory has me older than six and younger than ten when I wrote my first short story.  Remember it today, because it cemented two things.
First, words were my life. They opened my soul yet hid my emotions. They could reveal and disguise. They could build or destroy. But most of all, they are necessary to be me.
Second. I have always loved a good pun.
You have to know the old folk song “ The Old Grey Mare” to see what I mean.
My story was about the leader of a town who had a daughter. He was always cranky and rude. One day something happened that changed his heart and the last line of my story was... “ The old grey Mayor...he ain’t what he used to be,”
So I am not corny and silly just as an adult. I have always been this annoying.

Mary Jo

Jan 20, 2019

I am not the best friend, because I always had sisters. I embrace people in the moment and love their company, but I respect their right to move on and to have better friends than me. There is one person though, that I am not related to but who enriched my whole life.

My first friend in school, that I remember, is Mary Jo. We were somehow joined at the hip for all of grade school and went to the same high schools as well.
I remember walking to her home and playing all day. She was an only child when we met.  I was the youngest of two girls. In the end she had two younger brothers and I ended up two younger sisters and one brother, so our homes remained totally different.

After high school, we went our separate ways. I joined the work force and went to night classes as it pleased me. She went to college, becoming a physical therapist. I receive birthday and Christmas cards from her every year. I am not that consistent.
Mary Jo was always the kind one. She was smart and pleasant and gentle. I was the one fighting to be funny and I was bossy and clumsy. I remember one year we had identical coats and from behind we looked like twins. Her aunt would see us in church and not know who was who as we sat together in our class pews. She said we even wiggled the same way.
Mary Jo has two sons and grandchildren that she dotes on. We still stay in touch, her more than me. She is a nurturer. She sews beautiful toys and outfits for her grandchildren, including masterful Halloween costumes. Her heart broke after her husband lost a battle with cancer. She is a young widow, my age, and has never wallowed in grief. Her posts and contacts express her sadness, but still highlight the joy and satisfaction she has received from her family and friends.
I may not be the greatest person, but God still keeps great people in my life. People like Mary Jo. I am indeed blessed because of her.