There is no more exhilarating feeling than being awakened by the sunlight peeking through the curtains. It’s more than light. It’s energy, warmth, and a new start. The things I might have been concerned about when I shut my eyes seem manageable. My work load looks more manageable. Old hurts and grudges seem petty. Sunshine is redemption and a new start. Every morning I wake up hopeful.
My grandparent’s wedding picture, though this is not their story. I am posting an extra story today as an early Christmas gift.
The situation Joe had most dreaded had come to a head at Anya’s most vulnerable time. Making a run for it with two little ones and a newborn would be futile. He’d just have to face this situation straight on. No one was going to hurt Anya and rip his family apart after they’d struggled so hard to be together.
Seeing Anya’s joy in Rose Anya was bittersweet, knowing what he’d have to tell her, but he could let her have this day unmarred. Emma had left a pot of soup bubbling on the hearth. Joe decided to do nothing but necessary chores and store up the joy of this day. When Anya wasn’t holding Rose Anya, he was. The little ones played happily in the warmth of family.
Joe didn’t allow himself to think of the preacher and sheriff’s impending visit. The sheriff didn’t wait a few days, just showed up with the preacher the next morning, probably to avoid the problem of having to pursue them. Joe greeted them gruffly. The sheriff was a definite threat, and Joe had never known kindness, only judgment from church folk.
“I know why you are here. I ain’t gonna let you make trouble for us. My wife just gave birth to an early baby and she ain’t strong
“We need to talk to her. I just need the preacher to say if she’s the same woman you married. We won’t take much of your time.” The sheriff stood his ground.
The preacher rocked back and forth with his hands clasped behind him. “Lord knows we hate to bother you, but the sheriff says this has got to be done. I’d be obliged if we could get it over with so I can get back to town. I got a couple that wants marrying.”
Grudgingly, Joe showed them in. “Anya, this here is the sheriff and the preacher what married us. I know you remember him, even though you was so sick.”
Anya’s eyes widened in fear, taking the situation in. “Why shore I do. A woman don’t fergit her weddin’. Welcome preacher. I cain’t git up cause I’m nursing my baby. She’s a mite early an’ I don’t want to jostle her. She ain’t strong an’ needs to nurse.”
“Why shore, Ma’am. Good to see you again. That baby is a tiny little thing. I wouldn’t want to unsettle her. It’s good to see things working out so good for you.” Anya took heart from his kind words.
The sheriff took his cue. “Ma’am, I’m sorry I had to bother you, but I needed to git the preacher to identify you. I am glad ever’thing worked out so good. Joe, you take care of this fine woman an’ that purty, little baby. I got to be going.”
“Sheriff, if you can wait a few minutes, this little one needs christening. It’s a long trip to town an’ I can git the job done as long as I’m here,” the preacher addressed the sheriff.
“Why shore. I’ll just wait outside.” He left them alone.
The preacher faced Joe and Anya. “I don’t know how I done it, but I realized after y’all left that night I never gave you a certificate. I’d like to marry you again an’ make sure ever’thing’s right before I christen that baby if that’s alright with you. I disremember the date, but you can help with that. Then we can git that little feller taken care of. The Lord wouldn’t want me to leave a job half-done.”
Emma spent the night and eased Anya’s concerns about baby care and breast-feeding. If she thought Anya seemed less than experienced, she voiced no concerns. “Don’t worry. It’ll all come back to you. After you’ve had six or seven, you’ll be nursing one, luggin’ one on your hip, an’ swattin’ one out of trouble without turning a hair. You sure birthed this one easy. You don’t look like you got child-bearin’ hips, but she didn’t give you a bit of trouble. I got a lot wider hips than you, but when I had my Marthy………..” Anya enjoyed the tenor of her friend’s conversation, but was lost in admiration for the tiny baby. Her ears perked up when Emma moved on to a discussion of the baby’s size. “I do believe that’s the smallest, healthy baby I ever seen. My Melvin would’a made two of her, but he was a big ol’ lunker. I swear, this baby could sleep in a shoe box.!”
Joe looked alarmed. “But she’s big enough, ain’t she? I’m a big feller, but my ma never weighed ninety pounds and she could’a whooped a bear.”
“No, Joe. She’s breathin’ fine, her color’s good, and she’s nursing like there ain’t no tomorrow. This baby’s just little, not puny.” Emma laughed at his concerns.
Anya acted huffy. “Now don’t go making my baby out to be too little. Give her time and she’ll set you straight. I ain’t never been big as nothin’ but I can take care of you two if you keep picking on my baby.” She smiled and nuzzled its sweetness.
Emma laughed and Joe looked alarmed. “I ain’t talkin’ against the baby. I just got worried when Emma said she was too little.”
Emma threw a towel at him. “I ain’t never said nothin’ was wrong with being little. I was just saying she’s smaller than them buffaloes I birthed. I think that was right smart of Anya to cook up a little one.” They all got a good laugh out of that. “I do believe I’d keep her away from other folks till she catches up a little so she don’t catch something. What do y’all reckon on naming this big ol’ gal?”
Anya looked to Joe. He thought long before speaking, “Well, if you ain’t opposed, Anya. I’d like to name her after two of the finest women I ever knowed, Rose for my mama and Anya for you.”
Anya looked at him with love. “I’d be right proud to call her that.”
In response to The Daily Post writing prompt “Our House”
Our house, was a very, very, fine house, I thought. The center of my world….a small, white frame house surrounded by a picket fence sitting under a huge shade tree. For many years it was a three-room house till Daddy added two bedrooms and a screened-in back porch to accommodate his growing family. I played in the deep, soft sand with my brother and sister on hot summer days. Honey-colored pine floors warmed the rooms, walls covered in cedar paneling. Yellow and green tiles in an alternating pattern covered the kitchen floor. The stove, with a pan of left-over biscuits for snacks, its door propped up with a stick, stood at one end of the kitchen, the refrigerator at the other, while cabinets ran along the outside wall. We all crowded around a red dinette set with a high chair pulled alongside. Mother’s wringer washer and the big deep freeze were housed on the screened-in back porch that had been pressed into service as a makeshift utility room. She suffered terribly doing her wash in the cold till the screens were covered with heavy plastic coated hardware wire and a space heater was installed. Clothes hung on lines strung across that room on rainy days. Our house was noisy with the shrieks of children at play, my mother’s laughter, and the joy of rowdy children. It was unusually scattered and looked like a tornado had ripped through not ten minutes after Mother finished cleaning.
The house was cold in winter, hot in summer, though the big attic fan lulled us to sleep on hot summer nights. On sunny days, leafy shadows danced on my bedroom walls and floor. Sometimes on hot days, I napped stretched out on the cool pine floors. Other times, I slept on a pallet of quilts with my cousin when company stayed nights.
Mother got up before we did to light the space-heaters that inadequately heated the house. We’d back up to the heaters and roast our behinds while our fronts chilled till the house finally warmed up.
A wonderful two-story barn filled with hay stood in the barnyard behind the house. On rainy days, we raced out to play in the barn, never to be held captive indoors. It was heaven to play in the stalls and climb in the loft to build forts in the hay. On fine days, we were free to roam the pastures and woods. We climbed trees and dropped off on the backs of cows dozing in the shade, for short but exciting rides. Sometimes we were lucky enough to lure a horse close enough to a fence to get on his back and get a bareback ride till he tired of us. My brother still has a grudge in at me for jumping off as the horse headed into a stall, leaving him to be scraped off by the low roof. It was a perfect way to grow up.
It pains me that today that house is about to fall down.
On the subject of happiness, some days start routinely no expectation of stumbling into pure joy. One of my precious children, who shall remain forever nameless, experienced that life-changing thrill when they while searching frantically for an item to take to their class for a current events assignment on March 5, 1985 when this golden picture was printed in the local paper. I expect neither the paper nor the proofreader were quite so happy.
Upon hearing that I have been married for forty-seven years to a loving man, your friend asked if I had any advice for a young person considering marriage. I have no special expertise or qualification for counseling, except forty-seven years’ experience in my own marriage, but I will share that with you.
Respect is imperative. Take the time to see how he/she treats parents and siblings. If a person is not respectful to their family, take your cue from that. Definitely meet their family. That alone will answer a lot of questions about your possible future together. Remember, any children you have may be more like either of your family members than they are like either of you.
Shared values. Discuss your values and expectations. Religion? How will you manage your money? Will you have children? Will you both work outside the home? How will you share responsibility? These factors end relationships every day.
Don’t expect marriage to be 50/50. You will both have to give 100% to make it work. It took me a while to figure out my husband didn’t want to talk things out once a conflict was over. It’s okay to say, “Give me a little time. I am still mad.” It’s not okay to punish or be mean-spirited. Let go of your anger as soon as you can, then put it in the past.
Loyalty. You have to put each other first. We have each other’s back. We trust each other, not wasting time on jealousy and games. We are together because we want to be, not because we have to be.
Make sure the person you love will be your friend forever. You have to be comfortable together, not forever trying to meet their expectations. You need to be able to laugh and cry together to get through the good times and the hard times.
Nutsrok 