Mrs. Barber, who lived on the corner, was of hardy, peasant stock and could be found raking and weeding her yard almost everyday. She and I spent our time working outdoors.
Directly behind my parents house lived another widow. For the life of me, I cannot remember her name. I can picture her, as clear as day with her petite frame, pretty white styled hair and glasses. She had me helping her with strange and odd tasks, some of which I had never heard of. In particular, I recall helping her clean cupboards and wiping the dust off the tops of cans. I found it extremely odd that anyone would have a can of food in the cupboard long enough to gather dust.
Both women were extremely kind and patient. They didn't seem to mind that it took me a while to learn how to do these very new assignments. Oft times they would have to repeat the directions or repeatedly show me how to do a task. I was quite slow to learn, even then but they never seemed to mind.
Frequently, we would take breaks from working and sit and enjoy lemonade and cookies. I very much enjoyed spending time with these women. I thought it pleasantly odd how they spent so much time smiling and appearing....happy.
Any person in a position of authority; doctors, nurses, policemen, firemen, principals and teachers, all I treated with the utmost respect due to their title and position. It's just automatic for me to think this way.
I have to laugh....I think one of the reasons I was excused from jury duty, a few years back, is because I answered every question from Mr. Prosecutor with, "Yes Sir" or "No Sir".
It used to be that anyone older than myself, was Mr. Miss or Mrs., but as I have aged that has changed. I frequently give my boys the title of Mr. No longer are titles exclusively for older people, but I have been know to address children as Mr. or Miss.
I recall the first time, that I saw an envelope addressed to "Master So and So"... It was a card for my brother from my great uncle. I was impressed with that. As I enjoy using titles, I am also pleased when others use them as well.
I was an extremely complacent child. I tried extremely hard top please my parents, listening and believing their every word, trying to anticipate their wants and needs, figuring out what made them apply, trying to make their lives easier.
I felt so sad at times. I saw my mother struggling, ashamed, hungry, beaten, so very much afraid of her husband at times. I didn't like lying to the bill collectors on the phone, but I did it because mom asked me to. She seemed so helpless at times, my mother. She was so sad and overwhelmed, frightened, locked in very odd, painfully antiquicated beliefs. Anyway...she was so full of emotion...I digress.
I honored and respected my parents at all costs and at every turn...I was such a tool, such a mark, so easy to take advantage of. Dang, this post seems to have a life of its own and is taking many twists and turns as I amble down those dirty, dusty roads of the past.
You know...part of me would love to know why my father did what he did to me. I know it is Not because I asked for it, deserved it or had done anything wrong. I don't know...I used to want to figure out all of life's mysteries but I am less curious these days and more willing to let some things remain unknown...but this, the abuse and incest, I wish I knew why. I'd love an apology. I no longer need it for validation...already have enough of that...but wouldn't it be nice...an acknowledgement, an apology? IDK just flipping channels, writing about whatever surfaces.
I mean, my parents were in sooo much pain, the house reeked of misery. The walls weeped, the doors creaked, the table trembled and shuddered..it was a mess.
I felt their pain and h o p e l e s s n e s s. and I just wanted to take it all away. To fix the poverty, misery and sadness. I tried everything, everything to make them happy. At such a tender young age, I failed to realize that one chooses how one lives and I was trying to erase all their pain and of course, I could not.
I absorbed and took on, a much more formidable challenge than I could have ever hoped to win...at ten.Enough already....enough