Saturday, October 14, 2017

Story Forth

Story Forth

One of my earliest memories is not really my memory at all, but a story that I was told that has now become a memory.  Sometimes I wonder if I have memories or if they are really just impressions based on stories or photos.  Maybe that is why I am obsessed with photography, if I capture the moment, I will always have that memory which ultimately becomes part of the story I weave that defines more or less who I am.  We have so many stories that we hear from others about our childhood or that we experienced ourselves and we pick and choose which ones shape our own version.   It is like we are creating a resume of our personal traits instead of our job experience.  We have several to choose from depending on whom we are talking to. 

My mother tells the tale that when my brother entered this world in 1969 I stayed with my grandparents in their new-to-them, very old house.  My mother enjoyed putting me in dresses and girly things, but when she came to retrieve me, my grandmother had wrestled me into a pair of denim overalls.  Apparently, I had also taken a pretty good tumble down the stairs during my visit, to which I’m sure my grandmother said “you’ll live”, dusted me off and sent me on my way to further exploration and adventure.  This anecdote illustrates many things about my grandmother, which I find true to this day. 

1. She was never much for convention; if you want to wear overalls because they are more comfortable and let you move more easily, go ahead.  Just because you are a girl doesn’t mean you have to wear a dress.  My grandmother was a tomboy when she was young, and growing up with three brothers on a farm, I’m not sure she had another option.  But over the last 20 years, I can’t say I’ve seen her wear pants very often, so I have to assume that she is more comfortable in dresses at this point.  Or it could be something as simple as her dexterity is not so great and it is quicker and easier to pull up your skirt to go to the bathroom than to unbutton pants!

2. A little dirt or abrasion will not kill you.  Which was her way of saying “don’t sweat the small stuff”.  Since we were always playing outside and climbing trees and gathering berries or otherwise finding adventure, we were often scraped or bruised, and even though my grandmother was a nurse, she didn’t give us a lot of medical attention.  Usually we endured a torturous Bactine application and then we were back to the races.  While I am not the best athlete, I am pretty tough and have weathered some good storms – I like to think she helped make me this way. 

3. Dessert is not optional and it doesn’t have to come after dinner.  This line of thinking doesn’t really relate to the above narrative, but my grandmother ALWAYS served dessert and she thinks nothing of having cake or pie for breakfast with a nice cup of coffee.   In the eyes of a child, this was the utmost in cool decadence and certainly something of which my mother would never approve.  I still consider it a great treat to have dessert for breakfast on occasion.

We lived in a rented home in Ledyard CT when I was very little.  My mom sometimes worked nights as a nurse but also some afternoons.  We had a babysitter named Debbie who was attractive, but not very attentive.  She had her boyfriend come over one day, which was a big no-no in my mother’s book.  I have no idea how old she was, I’m assuming over 16 because I’m pretty sure she drove there on her own.  Anyway, Debbie ordered some pizza for my brother and me, which was a great treat and a good distraction.  However, I had a loose tooth that I was wiggling to death while Debbie and her boyfriend were fondling each other on the couch.  It came out when I bit into the pizza and I leaped around and tried to show her the tooth, but she was pretty into the boyfriend.  I was so excited to tell my mom about my tooth when she got home and she asked me “What did Debbie do?”  I innocently replied that she was kissing her boyfriend on the couch.   I didn’t mean to be incriminating, I was just relaying the facts.  Needless to say, we never saw Debbie again.   Did I grow up to be a world-class, rule-following babysitter?  I have to admit, babysitting was not my favorite method of generating income, and once or twice I did have some boys over when I was with a friend.  I never endangered any children, but my mom was right, focus on the job while you are getting paid, not your boyfriend. 

Theresa was my best friend from age 4-7.  We did everything together.  She was the youngest from a big family and I was the oldest from a small family.   She was in my kindergarten class with Mrs. Luini (pronounced Looo-eeneee), who had huge red frizzy hair like a clown.  Somewhere during that time in K or 1st, I remember thinking about the bologna sandwich that was probably in my lunch.  Accompanied by mayonnaise on white bread.  The more I thought about these things together, the more nauseous I became.  I didn’t eat my sandwich at lunch and have never touched a piece of bologna since.  I am also not a fan of mayonnaise, but can stomach it on occasion in the right concoction.  I can’t say what triggered the bologna rejection, but it was strong and it has lasted 45 years.  It goes to show that sometimes you should trust your instincts, even at 5 years old.  I had an uncanny sense that nitrate filled, processed meat partnered with a disgusting fatty mixture was probably not good for me.

When I first meet someone and they ask where I grew up, I tell them Essex CT, which is a small upper middle class town on the Connecticut River, where it empties into Long Island sound.  It is a beautiful little boating town filled with historic homes, marinas, old money, a picturesque Main St with cutesy knick-knack shops and historical restaurants like the Griswold Inn and snobby stores like Talbots.  If things don’t go further, I leave the conversation here – allowing them to think I lived in a quaint New England house on the river and had an idyllic youth.   If you get to know me better, my story has more depth.  In 1975 my family built a three-bedroom 1500 square foot home in Centerbrook – an underfed neighbor of Essex with no water views or cute stores.  My parents struggled to pay the bills each month and to be happy with each other.  We moved to Centerbrook when I was 7 and I cried every day for two months in second grade.  My kindly teacher, Mrs. Schneider, didn’t know what to do with me.   Mind you, we only moved about 30 minutes from my previous school – but my parents were not keen on travel, so I didn’t see much of my best friend Theresa after we moved and I was devastated.  This is an early testament to both my fear of change and my love of my home – both of which were disrupted during that dastardly move.  To appreciate how far I’ve come from that blubbering insecure moment in time, I have lived in 7 different towns/cities since graduating from college including NYC, LA, Boston and Brussels and 11 different homes.    I have traveled to 18 different countries and I hope to double that list over the next 25 years!   Even though it was no Essex, and I still missed Theresa, our neighborhood in Centerbrook boasted a platoon of elementary aged children short on funds but long on energy and creativity.   We walked to school most days through a forest ripe for molesters, played games outside every day we were able, rode our bikes everywhere, had our first kisses playing flashlight tag as we entered puberty, tortured pollywogs, and crashed go carts and skate boards.  We played and played until my dad whistled for us to come home, and then we would beg to come out for another 30 minutes.   There was always something to do and someone to do it with.  My friends were my refuge and created the ideal environment for me to try new things, sometimes fail, but generally thrive - something that is still true for me today. 

I have lots of memories of Halloween from fairly early on.  They are kind of bittersweet.  I don’t remember the actual event but there is a photo of my brother, my dad and me and I’m in some sort of clown costume.  I remember liking the costume; it was store bought, a rarity in our household as my mom usually hand made most of our clothes and costumes (and her patterns were more Simplicity than Vogue).  This is also why I never learned how to sew, out of spite or lack of necessity I’m not sure which.  The things I liked most about Halloween were obviously the dressing up part, but also my Dad always seemed to take the reigns at Halloween.  He took us trick-or-treating, socialized with the other dads, and even as we got older he would walk around with us and stay on the street while we knocked on doors in search of refined sugar (also a rare occasion).  I think he mostly enjoyed having a beer with buddies as we cruised the leaf filled New England streets.   Our town also thoroughly embraced Halloween with a full on costume parade consummated by a bonfire with hot dogs and cider and awards for best costume (I never received one).  As I got older and the pressure was on me to conjure up a creative costume, I always felt let down.  My mom was too tired to sew anything great, and I wasn’t innovative enough to come up with anything on my own.  One year, I put myself in a trash bag and taped leaves to it so I looked like a bag of leaves.  Kind of pathetic.  I envied those kids who had moms who put their all into the costume, or kids who had the balls to put together something artistic on their own.  

I am proud to report that I totally redeemed myself in adulthood in a few ways.  My husband and I won best couple costume at a party when we went as Pam Anderson and Kid Rock, and we won the “that’s just wrong” category when we went as the “lingerie bowl” couple – wearing matching red bra, panties and football pads.   I have done a pretty good job keeping my kids on the cutting edge of Halloween fashion.  Some costumes were purchased, others were made (using glue and Velcro – still don’t sew!), but we generally had something fun going on.  My daughter was part of a group costume for years that they exhibited in the annual Halloween parade in Park City.  I adore dressing up.  Granted there is pressure to create a memorable costume, but I love the idea of being someone else for the evening.   It allows a certain anonymous frivolity not available in real life.

Teenage Years
As I help guide my children through the terrorizing experience of being a young adult, I am reminded of my own less than well-guided teenage years and how my life and views have changed.  I have always enjoyed writing, it is one of the places where I can totally lose myself for hours and forget the outside world.  It is like meditation for me, but instead of quieting my mind, I empty the contents in a way that hopefully entertains others.  In 10th grade I won a poetry and short story contest, both pieces were published in the local paper.  I don’t remember the extent of the competition, it could have been local or statewide, I have no idea.  The award-winning poem was a haiku I believe:

Fake Fake Fake
Like the skin of a snake
Shed, and another façade is grown.

It is obviously short, very simple but in hindsight and perhaps a deeper analysis, I view it as an accurate metaphor for the teenage experience and the tumultuous nature of the female relationships I had during that time.   One of my greatest, and most unsubstantiated fears is of snakes; I will run with knees high and emit a horror- movie scream at the sight of a baby garter snake no bigger than a straw. As I navigated my way through various high school groups, trying to locate “my people”, I encountered some disingenuous characters.  At the same time, I was changing as I grew and learned more about the world and my place in it.  Thus, we were all creating some façade and shedding it as we moved through life in the quest to find comfort in our own skin.

I also wrote a short story that was totally fictional about my brother and I riding our bikes and my brother almost getting hit by a car, which allowed me to appreciate him more.  Honestly, I have no idea where this one came from.   In truth, I wasn’t the best sister in the world.  I enjoyed doling out my fair share of personal torture.  One of the worst was when he suffered a spiral fracture of his tibia and fibia the very last day of school in 6th grade and he had a plaster cast on his entire leg – upper and lower, for the entire summer.  He didn’t get a walking cast until the day before school started in September.    While my cast from a 7th grade ankle fracture was covered in signatures and thoughtfully stored in the attic by my verging-on-hoarder mother, Jon wanted to keep his clean and white, kind of like his preference for plain vanilla ice cream, something I could never understand.  It was a hot summer and my mother had to work, so I took care of my brother during the day.  I dutifully completed my chores: hanging the laundry on the clothesline outside, drying the dishes, etc. but I was not going to let that crippled sibling ruin my summer fun.  I made him lumber on his crutches all the way to the neighbor’s pool four houses down the street, sweating his ass off, and he watched me while I played in the pool with our friends.   As you might recall, there was no swimming or showering with those antiquated, hard, odorous, plaster casts.  I didn’t offer to give him a sponge bath after he ambled home after me in tears.  For some inexplicable sibling reasoning, he still loved me and looked up to me.  Ironically, now that I treat him much better and want to have a relationship with him, he wants nothing to do with me.  I suppose that is the price I pay for my poor babysitting skills and puberty induced selfishness from 3 decades ago.   But that is the topic of a whole other therapy session, I mean blog.

My senior year in high school, I took honors English, and our teacher was of the variety that is not seen anymore.  In addition to studying Chaucer, Shakespeare, and JD Salinger, we learned about classical music, art, theatre, and architecture.  Mr. Sweeney took it upon himself to give us culture lessons and escorted us to museums at Yale, played Mozart and Bach in the classroom, and hosted special book clubs at home with his wife.  In order to earn honors credit, we were required to write the dreaded “Church Paper”.  The church paper necessitated us to learn all we could about architecture by researching and visiting churches throughout New England, and write a 75-100 page paper on the subject, including pictures and drawings.  This notorious research paper was the topic of great discussion at our high school for well over a decade.  Seniors would band together and car pool with those fortunate enough to have access to a vehicle and drive the New England countryside following maps as we located places of worship and documented the location of their pulpits and doors, the style of the pews and windows and relayed in great detail what that implied about their constituents and their beliefs.  It was one of the greatest learning experiences of my life and taught me how to research and write a paper, an invaluable tool before I left for college.   The church paper comprised a good part of our 4th quarter grade, and our teacher made a recording of his thoughts on cassette as he graded our papers.  I waited and listened with anticipation with my friend Tom (class valedictorian who is now an Economics professor at Northwestern) for my final grade, which was an A+!!!  Pride welled up in me, as only a few of us received this perfect grade.

(Emily Dickinson and the dash – other memory)

Determined that I would never be able to support myself with any sort of writing or English major, and spurred on by my grandfather and uncle to become an engineer at College, I started off as a math major.  Truth be told, I also did very well in Math, and in some ways appreciated the predictable nature of mathematics.  There is always a right answer.  My math career came to an abrupt and speedy halt during my freshman year of college as we were rotating things around 3D axis, and my social life was far more interesting than my 8:30 calculus class.   It is the only time I ever got a C, and I called my mom to tell her about a grade.  I went into the final with a failing grade, so that C was a huge testament to last minute cramming and lack of sleep.  My scholarship depended on a decent GPA, and math was not the way to meet that goal.  So I took psychology, and geology, and political science and economics and history as all good liberal arts students do. 

Encounter
She walked through the single story cookie cutter affordable housing complex searching for number 38.  As she approached the door, a feeling of anxiety washed over her and she nearly headed back to the car.  Maybe this surprise visit wasn’t a great idea.  Instead she took an audible deep breath, and rapped on the screen door.  He didn’t answer immediately, but the window was opened part way and she could hear movements.  “Dad?” she called out at first quietly and then louder.  He opened the door and looked at her for only a moment before uttering her name.  They had not seen each other in 16 years. He had not contacted her in any form during that time.  She had at least sent the obligatory Christmas cards.  And been to therapy.  And sought out any number of places to fix her daddy issues.  She was not sure what remedies he had tried for his problems, or if he thought he even had any.  It was much as she expected.  His eyes seemed a lighter shade of blue than she remembered, and his hair now white, but his stature and features were fundamentally the same.  The small one bedroom apartment was home to a galley style kitchen, a set of golf clubs, shelves of books, a television, and a newspaper, all orderly in a retired naval sort of way.   What was slightly off-putting were the unframed photos of her children (from the xmas card), her nieces, and her brother and herself (from high school – the last time he had a relationship with either of them) neatly placed on his desk in a row.  It felt like a stranger was passively stalking her family.  As he pointed to them and said, “This is how I stay in touch” she struggled to figure out what that comment could possibly mean.  They exchanged small talk about the weather, her kids’ college plans, and his golf game.  She inquired as to whether he had her information and he produced an index card with her mother’s writing on it with all of the necessary details to contact her and her brother.  Perhaps he thought she was concerned that he would be able reach them in case of emergency.  In reality, she just wanted to confirm that he in fact had the ability to contact them and willfully did not.  


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