Loss

Andrew and Molly Part 31

Molly’s rage deflated at Aggie’s outburst. Though Aggie had often been sharp-spoken and critical on her arrival, she’d mellowed and become like a mother, especially after Andrew was taken. The relationship changed further after Molly married Wharton and the children started coming. Aggie was simply “Granny” to them, a different status for both of them. Molly couldn’t deny her pride in coming up in the world. Aggie stood her ground but there were some who called Molly uppity and thought she ought to get off her high horse, especially those who had come over on the boat with her and were still struggling under indenture. In truth, Molly was acutely aware that Andrew’s position was lower than Wharton’s had been.

Meanwhile, Andrew recalled his devastation upon his return at finding Molly had been wed and widowed. She’d borne his son and given him another man’s name. He’d spent years suffering humiliation and pain watching for his chance to escape not knowing his old life was already lost to him. He couldn’t deny he’d taken comfort in Sarah, but that fact only complicated his ambiguous situation. Upon seeing the baby at birth, he couldn’t deny it. It was fully white, his child. He couldn’t leave it behind, even knowing it would be unwelcome. He knew he had no right to be angry at Molly but the change in their class angered and shamed him. Legally, he was her bondsman and she’d not yet offered him release nor welcomed him back in her life.

The two stared at each other across the table. The truth of the situation couldn’t be denied. Besides the history between them, they needed each other. Molly’s farm cried out for a man of Andrew’s talents. They shared a son, though he bore another man’s name. Molly had two girls and Andrew had a baby who needed raising.

”What are we to do?” cried Molly.

Aggie was gratified when Andrew wasn’t at her house for breakfast.

Andrew and Molly Part 21

Molly was exhausted. The work of her farm, family, responsibility for her indentured servants was unrelenting. Ailing since he was injured in the Indian attack, Bartles had never enjoyed a full return to health. Lately, his left leg dragged a bit and his mouth drew to the left. In the short time since his return, Andrew had picked up most of Bartles’ work. Molly could see the relief on Bartles’s face.

Aggie was grateful to have Bartles about the house with her and kept the little girls at her side when Rosemarie was too busy to care for them leaving Molly free for other duties. Jamie kept busy following everyone at their farm tasks.

Though she appreciated Aggie’s help, Molly regretted not being able to tend her own house and children. She was worried about being able to care for four little ones should she not be able to keep Rosemarie once the baby was weaned. Orphaned herself, she felt for the wee mite but wasn’t anxious to take on another child. It seemed like everytime her life was looking better there was another bump in the road.

Even the baby did not lie abed. Though it was early, he was on his way into town wrapped in a sling on Rosemarie’s back. The storeowner’s wife stopped her to talk after Rosemarie gave her the list. “I heard you’d lost your baby but here you are with one strapped to your back! How’d you get another so fast?” she asked snidely.

Knowing her place, Rosemarie avoided the discussion as much as possible. “This is not my babe. Mistress Wharton has me minding the baby her man Andrew brought when he escaped from the Indians. I’d best go. Mistress Wharton won’t like me gossiping.”

Hard Time Marrying Part 14

She gathered the children next to the wall in bed with her with the fireplace poker hidden the quilts.  It wouldn’t be much protection from an ax or gun, but she might be able to put an eye out before he got to her.  Fatigued, she leaned against the wall so she wouldn’t be caught lying down when he burst in.  Though she was never aware of drifting off, the sound of the man trying the door awoke her just as the sun was rising.  Peeking out the window she saw he had put a pail of milk and basket of eggs on the step instead of bringing them in like he had every other morning.   “Come on out and git this for them kids.  They got to eat.” Jack trotted happily behind him as he headed to the barn.  When she was sure he was far enough away, she reached for the provisions.  Unable to lift the heavy milk bucket, she had to take it out a dipper full at a time and wasted a good bit trying to strain it into a pitcher.  Filling the baby’s bottle, and struggled to change the wriggling child’s malodorous diaper before finally giving up to let her run free.   The boy tipped a chair and banged his head trying to get an egg. The eggs crashed to the floor. The baby howled in unison with her brother, though he didn’t need any help. She burst into loud wails faced with the hopelessness of the situation.  Clearly, she couldn’t take care of even herself in her condition.  Desperate, she opened the door to the man’s banging.  If he’d wanted to kill them, he could have sneaked up on them in the night instead of bringing breakfast to the door.

“If you ain’t gonna be able to feed these young’uns, let me in so I can.”  She had no trouble understanding his shouted instructions.  He got straight to work, breaking up cold cornbread into warm milk, since the eggs were lost.  Gesturing for her to sit in a straight chair at the table, he handed her the baby girl propping her between Anya’s injured arm against the wall and raised his voice. “You feed this baby.  You need to earn your keep.  That other arm works fine.” 

While Anya fed the girl, she sneaked peeks at the man, trying not to get caught while he crumbled cornbread into the boy’s milk.  He made no effort to fix Anya’s meal, turning to hear and shouted.  “Now when you git your fill, clean this mess up.  I got too much to do to take care of youngun’s and an addled woman.”

Anya lost her fear as her face flamed with fury at the insult. “Addled!  I ain’t addled!  I’m jest kind’a deaf but I’m a’getting’ better!  And don’t go hollerin’ so loud at me.  I ain’t off!  You’d act addled too if you got cracked in the head.  At least I ain’t crazy enough to claim you’re my husband!  Just give me a few days more an’ I’ll be out of here.  I just gotta figure a way to take care of myself and git to a town.”

The damn holding back Joe’s frustration broke.  “I’ll be glad to see the last of you, but I got a crop to put in and cain’t take time to haul your sorry ass thirty miles to town. Me and these kids ain’t gonna starve on account of you!  You ain’t nothing to us!”  He didn’t even realize it was the first time he’d referred to himself and the kids as a unit. “The circuit preacher will be over to the Meadow Creek Church in two weeks for revival.  I’ll take you the twelve miles over there and some of them do-gooders from church can put you to work or git you to town.  It ain’t nothing to me what you do.”

“I ain’t staying here another night.” She spouted, slamming her open hand on the table.

“Suit yourself.  Talphus is thirty miles east and Meadowcreek Church is twelve miles northwest of here.  Them church folks will be gathering after spring planting.  Good riddance!  Come on Little Joe.  Now, you watch the baby out of the fire.  Me and Little Joe got work to do.”  He grabbed the little boy’s hand and slammed the door on the way out.

Overcoming Self-Pity: A Tale of Compassion and Self-Reflection

A balmy January evening was followed by a frigid, icy day of the kind we rarely get in Louisiana. I wore warm clothing but never warmed up as I drove the thirteen slippery miles to work. I begrudged going in knowing there would be extra patients hospitalized due to the loss of power and water, Dialysis patients can’t forgo treatment. I’d be doing a sixteen hour day and have to spend the night at the hospital to be available for emergency admissions. I thought longingly of my family in my cozy home who’d be gathered before the fireplace later that day, eating stew my husband heated in a cast iron pot in the fireplace. I had a good pity for myself worked up. 

On my way in, I met a co-worker clocking out. I wondered how she’d been lucky enough to be relieved. Then I saw she was crying. I forgot myself.

“Gracie? What’s wrong?” I asked. Gracie wasn’t a crybaby. I’d known her for years.

”I gotta get home! Grandma had clothes hanging in front of the heater and burned the house down. Everybody got out, but everything’s gone! I don’t even have a toothbrush! “ she wept. “My brother’s coming to get me and I don’t even have a coat to wear home.”

I felt so ashamed of my self-pity. “Here, take my coat. I took my wallet out of my purse, leaving her my lunch, comb, brush, lotion, tissue, umbrella and tylenol. “Here, take my purse and coat. This will help a little”

Experiencing her misfortune firsthand made me ashamed of myself. I wished I’d had more to give. Ever since that time. I give what I feel called upon to share. I’ve never regretted anything I gave away. I feel better if I do what I should.

Izzy

Izzy is our little rescue dog. He looks for all the world like an American Eskimo Dog, but weighs less than ten pounds, so I suspect there’s some Pomeranian in there as well. Like a Pom, he hates getting his feet wet. He’d strayed up a home on my niece’s mail delivery route. The homeowner was kindly fostering him but hunting a home. We’d recently lost our darling dog, so we ended up with him.

He’s adorable, so sweet and loving but has one quirk. He’s a runaway. I suspect that’s how we ended up with him. Given the slightest chance, he flees. He likes for us to follow him till he gets his run out, staying a couple of hundred yards ahead. When he’s journeyed far enough, he welcomes a ride home.

He’s a great lap-sitter and kisser. He’s fascinated with my glasses. One evening I took them off, laying them on my table. In a flash, he’d grabbed them, prepared to munch them up. Fortunately, I caught him in time. A few nights later, I knocked them off my nightstand. They bounced under my bed. I left them, thinking I’d retrieve in the morning when they were nowhere to be found. Then I discovered them where he’d hidden them in the bed, the earpieces chewed to a fare-thee-well. My new ones should be in Wednesday.

Consequences

A straightforward, impressive woman, Eva was a CPA working for a prestigious business firm in Washington DC. Her husband Charles was a CPA for the federal government. Together, they had built an enviable life including a beautiful home in the suburbs with five children. A nanny/housekeeper cared for their home and children.

Things went well for about fifteen years until an audit revealed that Eva had been doing a bit creative bookkeeping. When it all unraveled, Eva was given the choice of prosecution or repayment. As you would expect from someone who was embezzling, Eva and Charles had no cash reserves.

They sold their house. Charles borrowed from his retirement and both cashed in their whole life insurance. By hook or crook, Eva was able to repay what she’d stolen and avoid prison. Of course, she lost her CPA credentials. Charles’s job was unaffected.

They took the last of their meager funds and bought a tent which they pitched in a national park. Along with their children, they crowded into the tent with their business clothes. Eva got another job in business, though not as a CPA.

Every morning, the family dressed in the bath house at the park and headed off to work and school. The kids caught the bus at the park entrance. They lived this way for six months until they managed to save up for an apartment. They had to move their tent every two weeks to meet park requirements. The kids rather liked the perpetual camping though Eva and Charles were heartily glad to get a roof over their heads again.

Despite their setbacks, the couple managed to stay together till most of their children were grown, eventually divorcing for some other reason. When I knew Eva, she was in her sixties and my children’s summer caregiver. I was thoroughly surprised when she told me this story and often wondered how her story played out afterwards.

Just Folks Gettin By Part 6

busThe next day, Lucille got a letter and read it to Jenny over lunch. “Oh listen to this.  It’s from Cousin Sally, Aunt Lucy’s daughter.  Remember I told you Aunt Lucy had her widowed daughter and grandchildren livin’ with her.  Well, this is the one.  I sure was crazy about her.  Me and Velma run around with her a lot while I stayed there.  Anyway, listen to this:

 

Dear Lucille,

I hope this finds you well.  I made you a copy of that dishtowel embroidery pattern of Mama’s you wanted.  Remember how she done it up in yellow and blue to match them dishes she got down at the Five and Dime with her birthday money that time?   I done some for a wedding gift for Maybelline’s  daughter, Jessie’s wedding shower.  She acted like she really liked them.  I done two pair, one in blue and green and one pair in yellow and orange.  They didn’t look as good as Mama’s but the girl seemed like she liked them.  She said that’s the first bit of needlework anybody give her yet.  Used to didn’t nobody have no money to buy nothing, so I never got the habit of buying gifts I could make.  Bless her heart, if I was the gossiping type, I’d say that that gal’s going to need a baby shower soon, but that ain’t Christian, so I won’t. 

My garden is doing real good.  I already put up two hundred jars of tomato vegetable soup and fifty quarts of peas.  That soup will be real good this winter when we ain’t had nothing fresh in a while.  I can add a little meat when I get tired of it plain, but I never got the habit of needing meat every meal.  I know you remember we had meat it was just on Sunday, and then it was probably just an old hen that had quit laying Mama didn’t want to feed no more.  Boy, I was scared to death of them chickens after Mama cut their head off.   Lots of times they’d run in circles till they just dropped over.  I never thought much of something it didn’t need a head, especially after that one run me up under the porch.  I had nightmares about that for years.  You and Velma laughed like that was the funniest thing you ever seen.  I hid every time Mama killed a chicken after that.

Mavis (“That’s her daughter, Jenny”) is expecting in the next couple of weeks.  I am supposed go stay a few weeks after the baby comes to help out.  Soon as she found out she was thataway she made me promise to come.  She sent me a ticket last week.  I’m all packed just waiting to hear the baby is here.  I made arrangements with Myrtis down bus stop to git the mailman to let me know.  He always runs by nine and that would give me time to get to the noon bus.  It’ll get me to Bonneville by four and they can have somebody pick me up.  I sure hope they have a girl this time.  Them four boys is cute but Mavis is sure wanting another girl after she lost that baby girl last year that was a blue baby.  She ain’t got over it yet.  She says she’s carrying this one high like she did Brenda.  I’m hoping she’ll be too busy to keep on mourning.  It sure was a blessing when she found out she was thataway about two weeks after Brenda died. They would have been about sixteen months apart.  I’m worried about her, but I believe she’ll be okay.  Don’t forget to keep praying for her.

I better close.  You can write back to me at Mavis’s house at the same address you used last time.  I’ll let you know how things go.  Keep in touch.

                                                                                                               Love,

                                                                                                                Sally

Well, ain’t that nice she’s gittin’ to go stay with Mavis.  She was real worried about her after she lost her baby.  She wouldn’t git out of the bed for about three weeks till her husband told her she had to.  Sally said she walked around like a ghost till she found out this new baby was coming.  Sally was real worried about her.  I thought I wanted to die after your daddy got in trouble and Jimmy died, but I knew I had to scrap around and figure out some way to take care of you.  After that, I was workin’ so hard I just felt numb.  I do believe Uncle Marsh helping me git that dishwashing job saved me.  When I wasn’t workin’ I was so tired I staggered to the bed and passed out, then got up and did it again.  My best days was Monday’s when the café was closed.  I just lived to go see you on Mondays.”  Lucille mused.  

Jenny broke in, “Oh Mama, you’ll never know how I looked forward to your visits.  I was about the only kid who ever had a regular visitor.  It made me feel so special.  Sometimes we’d all be in the to the classroom and a couple would come in.  We weren’t supposed to know, but they were looking for a child.  All the kids would be looking at each other, real excited, hoping to get a chance to shine.  Later they’d whisper, wondering if they’d be chosen.  Once in a while, a kid would be called to meet folks, and we’d be buzzing, wondering if they’d be adopted.  I felt so happy, knowing I had you.  It put me in a special class all to myself.  Once in a great while another kid would be lucky enough to have a visitor, but no one else had a mama who came every Monday. You always reminded me we’d be together again with Daddy.  I didn’t much remember him, but I always held onto the idea of going home.

 

 

 

Heartbreaking Story of the Red-Headed Baby

babyprint1xAccording to gossip, Redheaded Connie and Callie were reputed to have been left on their Pentecostal aunt’s doorstep at birth. This fascinating tidbit guaranteed my interest.  I imagined them lying in a basket, long waist-length braids dangling from a basket, dusting the ground. They were high-school girls when I was in first grade, so I never gave them much thought beyond that. Continue reading →

Time to Come Together

imageLike the rest of America, I am devastated by the hatred incarnate that erupted to take the lives of these nine wonderful people in the church in the historic old Charleston church.  To think a man could spend an hour in prayer with people who’d embraced him, before turning on them, later saying, he almost backed out several times, but knew if he didn’t do this no one else would.  Would to God his heart had been more touched by their goodness and acceptance than the hatred he’d learned.  It’s time we all realized we are one.

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