memoir

Miss Laura Mae’s House. Part 11

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I got my biscuit and settled on the back step, singing the alphabet song.

Mother launched right into her conversation before Miss Laura Mae got the coffee poured.
“Laura Mae, I just got the strangest letter from Mama. You remember I told you my brother, John, in the army got married not long ago and his wife was expecting.”

“Sure do. How’s she doing?”

“Well, Mama got a letter from John saying Wanda, that’s his wife, had gone back home to stay with her mama till the baby came. He didn’t say anything at the time, thinking she’d be back. I don’t know if she’d left him, or what, but he hadn’t let Mama and Daddy know. Her daddy was high up in the military on a base up in Nebraska. Anyway, the first thing anybody knew was that my brother John got a letter from Wanda’s daddy saying Wanda had had twins, a girl and a boy, and that she and the babies had been crossing a railroad track and hit by a train. John said her daddy said they’d all been buried and to never contact him again. He said he just let it be.

Mama and Daddy, of course, were all upset, and Daddy caught the first bus to New Orleans to see about John. When he got there, John said he was fine and insisted Daddy go straight back home. He said he didn’t have any leave coming and didn’t even want Daddy to spend the night. Daddy came on home, like John asked. My sister, Annie came in that weekend. When she found out what happened, she told them something strange she had kept quiet about since it didn’t seem right. She’d gotten a letter from Wanda announcing their marriage. She wrote and told her and John she was coming over for the weekend. Well, when she got there, John met her at the bus station and told her she couldn’t stay. Wanda had gone off somewhere with her mama and daddy and he had to work. Annie couldn’t imagine what was going on. She went back home and reread her letter from Wanda, and thought it looked like it might be John’s handwriting. Mama went back and pulled out a letter she’d had from Wanda and thought it was possible John had written it, too. They don’t know if the whole thing was made up or what. I don’t know what to think. It all sounds too crazy to be true, doesn’t it? Have you ever heard such a thing? Please don’t repeat what I told you. I haven’t told another soul, but I just thought I’d pop if I couldn’t talk to somebody. I sure don’t want Bill to find out. He already thinks my family’s crazy. He’d never let me forget it.”

“Now, Honey, I hate to hear all that, but don’t be worryin’ ’bout me tellin’ yore business. That whole story doesn’t sound right, but I didn’t git to be this old without learnin’ when to keep my mouth shut. Besides, since I’m the only one you tol’you’d know where it come from, wouldn’t you? Has your brother ever done anything odd before?”

“No, he’s always been steady as a rock. He went in the CCC when he was fifteen, then on his off time he took any job he could get, and always helped Mama and Daddy as much as he could. He finished high school in the Army since our little country school only went to tenth grade. I don’t know what to think. I’m just worried to death about him.”

“Well, I know you are, but folks deals with trouble in all kinds of ways. You’ll just have to let him be.”

“You’re sure right about that. I’ve got three little kids and I couldn’t go see about him if my life depended on it. I do feel bad for Mama and Daddy worrying about him.”

“I know you do, but they’ll have to make their own way, just like he will. Things have a way of workin’ themselves out.”

The Heartbreaking Tale of the Post-Mortem Fruitcake

Egyptian archaeologists discover the world's oldest fruitcake.

Christmas revolved around fruitcake.  Mother pinched pennies for weeks to buy the candied fruit and nuts required to bake the perfect fruitcake.  On December 22, everything else was in readiness for FRUITCAKE baking.  She chopped the nuts, candied fruit, brought out her spices  and pulled out her time honored recipe for the perfect fruitcake which only graced our table during the Christmas Season.  Baking the fruitcake was a sacred tradition, which we looked forward to it simply because it meant Christmas was almost here.  The eating of the cake was irrelevant.  The tradition was what mattered.

My maternal grandmother died December 16, 1964.  We were all devastated. She was the indulgent figure in out lives. Her rare visits had a holiday quality.  Her gifts were provided a few luxuries in our lives  I couldn’t imagine life without her.  She had mailed her Christmas gifts to us on the morning before she died in the night..  It arrived two or three days after her funeral.  It was a macabre feeling, being anxious to find out what she’d sent, knowing she was in her grave.

In the way of kids everywhere, we rallied and had a wonderful Christmas.  The gifts had special meaning, knowing they’d be the last.  I still have a tiny jewelry box from that year.  My poor brother managed to turn this sad situation into a mess.  Grandma had included a small fruit cake in a red tin box.  Mother put it up, intending to serve it on a special occasion.  Naturally, this fruitcake from her mother was elevated to the sacred.  Well, my brother Bill must have had a special occasion of his own.  Mother found the empty fruitcake tin hidden in his room, not a crumb left.

She was furious!  He had eaten her dead mother’s fruitcake……….the last gift she’d ever sent.  He lived to regret his theft.  She didn’t let him forget it for weeks, getting weepy every time she saw the shiny red box, sitting in a place of honor on the table. She keeps buttons and thread in that box till today.

This is probably the only documented story of anyone ever actually eating, much less stealing a fruitcake!

Most Awkward Christmas Pictures

Amazing Times at Cypremort Point State Pork

What was the last thing you did for play or fun?

Before Thanksgiving we visited Cypremort Point State Park on Vermillion Bay in South Louisiana. It is incredibly lovely. The park is pristine and well-maintained with an abundance of amenities. With several pet-friendly cabins and numerous pull-thru camper sites, it is easy to find the perfect spot. The cabins are roomy and well-maintained. The screened in porches. The beach is beautiful. There is a long walking pier extending over the marsh, perfect for nature walks. We saw many birds, turtles, deer, and nutria. Alligator trails were clearly visible. Amazingly, we only saw three pieces of litter in this park. Our visit was a total pleasure. We will return.

Do yourself a favor and check out Cypremort.

Changing Leaves

We don’t usually get vivid fall colors in Louisiana but these trees seem to have been decorated for Christmas.

Ralphie Wins and Loses, Bigtime

phone ringingDaddy got another phone call from Ralphie, the kid down the road.

“Mr. Bill?”

“Hey, Ralphie.  What’s going on?”

“I wrote a poem at school and won a contest.”  (On his last phone call, he’d reported making all D’s and F’s and having the papers to prove it)

“Well, that’s great, Ralphie!  I’m glad you’re doing better at school.”

“I won first at my school, then at district.  But when they took it to state, the judge said it came out of World Book and they threw it out.”

“Well, why did they do that?

“Because it came out of World Book.  Bye”

Izzy’s Stressful Life

I thought I was giving Izzy at treat and inadvertently introduced stress into his happy little life. He is now obsessed with this chew. He normally spends a good bit of his time lap-sitting but the last couple of days, he’s been moving this to keep it out of our big dog’s reach. He seems to derive no please from it. I think I may need to swap it out for a toy so he can get back to business as normal.

Tea with Ralphie and Barbie

Connie’s first grade class picture.  Connie sits directly in front of the teacher.  Mother made her dress.

Ralphie’s mom had coffee with Mother several mornings a week.  A quirky little guy, he played happily with Connie and Marilyn in their bedroom.  Mother never let them shut the bedroom door.  She still hadn’t gotten over my brother poking holes in Barbie’s nipples with a straight pin.  One morning, Mother heard the door shut.  She left her coffee and opened the door.  “Leave the door open.  It’ll get too hot in here.”  Ralphie was digging happily in the toy box, obviously in pursuit of some prize.  In just a minute, Mother heard the door shut again.  Leaving her coffee, she opened the bedroom  again.  Barbie dolls, clothes, and accessories were spread all around.  Hurriedly, Ralphie hid a half-dressed Barbie behind his back.  “Leave the door open.  It’s hot in here.”

”I want the door shut,” said Ralphie.  “I’m cold.”

Realizing Ralphie hadn’t wanted to be seen playing Barbie, Mother answered.  “Tell you what, kids.  Bring your Barbies and tea set in the living room and I’ll make you some KoolAid.  We’ll all have a tea party.”  The kids gathered up their toys and set up in the living room at their mama’s feet.  Ever after, when Ralphie came to play Barbie, they all had a tea party in the living room with the ladies.

Life today

Is your life today what you pictured a year ago?

My life is better in some ways than I had hoped. Last year at this time , my ninety-six-year-old Mother lived alone in her home. I spent a great deal of my time helping her, taking her to do errands, and just taking her out. Despite all the time I spent with her, I knew it wasn’t enough. She was starved for company and wasn’t thriving. Her weight was dropping and she was weak. With encouragement, she made the difficult decision to move into an independent living apartment, an excellent decision.

She enjoys sharing meals with her friends in the dining room, has walks twice a day, has gained weight, and attends church again. Every day she tells me how happy she is now. I visit her two to three times a week because I want to, not because she needs my care. Both our lives are much better.

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