Maggie married Melvin shortly after her first husband died. Maybe she should’ve waited longer, but she was exhausted after her long struggle to support Ray through his illness and then Little Ray after he died, so she was glad to have Melvin’s companionship and support, even though he was odd from the start. Things went well enough for several years, but by the time Melvin reached his late forties, he’d developed religious delusions that made him impossible to live with. Continue reading
memoir
Wonderful Times of Reading Aloud
It has always been a joy to hear my sister Phyllis read aloud. Till my last days, I will cherish a few days during school Christmas vacation in 1961. Phyllis was enjoying reading Great Expectations in her ninth grade English class and offered to read a few pages aloud. Daddy was working second shift at the paper mill, so once he left and the remains of the noon meal were cleared away, we settled in the cozy living room for a reading. I would have been eleven, Billy, eight, and Connie and Marilyn, two and a few months old. Enraptured by the story of Pip, the cruel Estella, and the mad Miss Havisham, I would Continue reading
Father’s Day
I miss my father. He was actually three fathers to me. The first, a doting, loving father whose every step I made, the smartest, most handsome man who ever lived. He could do no wrong.
As I grew up, he struggled under increased responsibility. Uncomfortable with adolescent girls, he put up a wall between us, becoming stern, cold, and distant, feeling women should raise girls. I resented what I saw as rejection, not understanding his reasoning. He could do little right.
As I became an adult, we grew close again. He was a loving grandfather, free again to love me. I still miss him.
Freedom of Expression
We enjoyed considerable freedom of expression when we were kids, as long as we felt like saying, “Yes, Ma’am. No Ma’am. Yes Sir, How high Sir? May I be excused? and God is great, God is good, Pass the beans. Amen.”
The quickest way to get in trouble was to open my big mouth and ask questions or God Forbid, tell family business. Telling Family Business assured swift and terrible punishment., like the time I told my Sunday School Class Phyllis was born June 20 and my parents got married June 29. Mother was furious. I couldn’t see any problem with that. Both facts were true. It mattered not at all to me that Mother wanted all the church ladies to be very clear on the fact that she’d been married nearly a full year before Phyllis came along. Things like that really mattered back in the 1950’s. Now folks are impressed if Mama and Daddy just get married.
Knot on Head
I used to moonlight at an urgent care clinic. Mother called me at my regular RN job one day to complain of an earache. Like I always do when people ask advice, I recommended she see a doctor. She decided to go to the urgent care clinic where I sometimes worked. I called to speak to my friend, Judy, who was working that day. I asked her to surprise Mother by telling her she had to have a full internal pelvic exam. She knew Mother, and was delighted to pull a little trick on her. Sure enough, she showed Mother to the OB/GYN exam room, telling her to prepare Continue reading
“I Wish I Had Left Whiskey Alone!”
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I was delighted when a beloved niece made this family letter available to me. An unfortunate gentlemen friend of Helen’s had become entangled with the law and needed her help. According to family stories, she held influence with many judges, lawyers, and business men, since she ran a quite well-patronized house of ill-repute and had become quite wealthy as a bootlegger. I don’t know how this gentleman’s difficulties worked out, but it is apparent for the moment, he regretted his involvement with whiskey. Sad, sad story. I hope his sweet Helen was able to assist him!
Lunch Bucket Blues
Life at our house was a mad-house on better days. Daddy worked rotating shifts. For second shift he had to leave the house by two in the afternoon. He always had a lot going on before work, so he wouldn’t sit down to dinner (lunch) until one or one-fifteen. Mother always served a hot, sit-down meal with meat, two vegetables, and biscuits or cornbread. According to Daddy, she was disorganized, so it challenged her to get Continue reading
Floyd, the Cornbread, and the Attic Fan
Floyd Lewis was a holdover from another time. Daddy hired him whenever he needed help clearing new ground, cutting timber, or work of that sort. Illiterate, with no social graces, Floyd muttered an unintelligible answer if asked a direct question. Considering our financial situation, I know Daddy couldn’t have paid him much. It is doubtful Floyd ever attended school, since he was of the generation before attendance was Continue reading
Grandma
I miss my Grandma. She was perfect, mostly because she acted like she thought I was, not noticing any bad behavior, knowing my mom would act on it. I was sure she loved me best of all her grandchildren, unaware she made us all feel that way. She made the best teacakes, told the best stories, and always smelled of Johnson’s Baby Powder. Patiently, she’d let me brush her waist-length gray hair, and attempt to twist into a heavy bun, never complaining that I pulled, before finally turning it into a perfect bun and securing it with only one heavy bone pin herself with a quick flip of her wrist, once I gave it up for hopeless.
Nutsrok 