Paula, One Beautiful Smile

My sister, Paula, has a  birthday  March 1.  It is the most difficult birthday to remember because February is so short and it sneaks up on me. I am always ashamed that I can't remember until I look at a calendar and then it might be the 27th or so of February. I am  ashamed because  she has always had the most beautiful smile and the most unforgettable laugh and I should remember to thank her for sharing that especially on her birthday.  She is just a toddler in the first photo. We spent many happy days together growing up in a large and loud family.  I remember when she was about this age and we were playing outside (I am sure we were barefoot).  Somehow Paula met with a nest of hornets and they proceeded to give chase.  We chased Paula as the hornets chased her and screamed our lungs out for help.  By the time help arrived she had hornet stings on her head and hand.  What a sight that must have been and what pain she must have suffered.

You can see for yourself how beautiful she and her smile were.  This was taken before my wedding.  She and Lindsey served as bridesmaids on one of the hottest days in June.  The color yellow suited both she and Lindsey so well.In this next photo she is pictured at Lindsey's wedding.  She is so tiny and cute.  Once again she is wearing that incredible smile.

This is a photo of Paula, Mawmaw(our grandmother), Sally(our mother), and Sarah (her daughter).  Four generations of women.  Once again she is wearing that beautiful smile.All three girls are  pictured here with our mother and grandparents.  Must have been the 80's.  What dreadful clothes, shoulder pads and all.  Paula just radiates.  I am sure someone had said something funny.  Maybe Paula. 

Paula and I have not had the opportunity to live in the same community since 1972.  We keep up through visits and the phone and now the internet.  I miss having her beautiful smile and personality with me. 

I write this today as I am thinking about March 1.  I know she will be sharing that beautiful smile with someone.  I hope it will be me. 

Mother's Safe

Geneological research is time consuming and fascinating.  Writing pieces for this blog has encouraged me to attempt to write an oral history for G4 and  G5.  My cousin, Caroline, has labeled our family's  generations so conversations will be easier and sorting photos much easier.  She is the brainy one of the group and has a creative mind as well.    G1:  My grandparents or relatives older, G2:  my parents, aunts, uncles,  cousins of theirs, G3:  me, my siblings and cousins  G4:  our children, cousins, etc  G5: our grandchildren, great nieces, etc.    So many stories are lost to me before I begin.  My search is not for facts, ages, or dates, but for the story of how the generations are connected.  Sometimes one must look at the facts, ages and dates to have a point of reference.  The search for a point of reference led me to my mother's safe.  I always knew mother had a safe but never asked to know what valuables were kept there.  Privacy in a large family is held in high regard.  As I never rummaged through my mother's purse or her drawers, I would never have dared to explore her safe.  I was aware that as arthiritis had begun to  ravage my mother's hands she had  stopped wearing her rings and put them in her safe.  Other than that I was unsure of the mysteries hidden in the safe.

The hunt for my parent's birth certificates, passports and social security cards sent Lindsey and I on the mission to find these items.  We first searched secretaries, secret drawers, and some very obvious hidy holes.  This part of the search produced multiple children's social security cards, immunization records, report cards, newspaper articles, various historic legal documents and a multitude of disjointed photographs.  We were also delighted to find a baggie full of handwritten recipes.  These were written on envelopes, receipts, and anything mother had available for jotting on. We have hidy holes yet to explore.   Our hunt led us to the safe.  We first were granted permission to explore the safe by my father.  We found the usual coins, silver certificates, deeds, titles, etc.  We found mother's birth certificate, passport and social security card.  Dad's were not in the safe and is a search we will continue.  The most interesting item we found in the safe was a copy of mother's permanent record.  We laughed as we looked at the record of her grades.  We realized this item was put in the safe to keep young and curious eyes from seeing.  My mother was a very capable and bright woman.  Her grades reflected that she sought  a very social experience throughout her academic career.    Most of mother's children were like her in that regard.  Lindsey and I have discussed the fact that we attended school mostly as a social activity.  We did what we had to in the academic realm, just enough to keep dad and mom happy or sometimes not so happy. Our main focus was our friends and groups of friends.  Maybe mother thought if we did not see the evidence of her school social life we would be more academic.  DNA often wins out over influence and certainly was the case here.  Once again we found ourselves in our mother.  The connection so strong.  Strong enough that the metal and locks could not have changed how our personalities developed and how we approached our formal education.

Many of us look back over our academic lives and have regrets.  I don't think mother really had regrets, she just wanted us to be more academically engaged.  Maybe she knew that the women of our generation would be called on to be more formally educated and to have a more active role in the working world.  She was from the generation where women were expected to  be mothers, nurses, or teachers.  Any academic acheivement past that was unusual and looked at as odd.  I took my secondary education much more seriously.  I was engaged in the process of learning and developing the skills necessary to work as a professional.  Even though I had advanced my education to the secondary and master's level,  I knew that Mother was much more intelligent than I.  I have found that the social connection gene she passed on to us has been much more valuable at times than my formal education. She was so wise and had the courage to tell the truth as she saw it, to anyone, regarding any situation.  That type of confidence can not be taught in an academic setting.  It is a confidence that comes from knowing what does and doesn't work and being observant enough to remember the difference in the two.

I haven't hidden my report cards in a safe.  I really don't know where they are.  I am eternally grateful that Mom put that record in her safe as it made us mindful once again of the good DNA passed on to us.

Note:  As spell check is unavailable at this time please forgive any errors that I did not catch on my own.  Spelling was never my forte and if I have to get out Webster's for every questionable word it would drive my academic or is it social soul crazy.

Antidote:  I get very upset and emotional when I make an error.  Richard has always reminded me that "it won't go on your permanent record".  Praise Be.

Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day has been celebrated for many years. The way we celebrate depends on our age, where we are in our life, who our people are and what is important to them. This photo was taken around 1956. I was three years old and am barely visible through the crowd of children and decorations. The two in the front are my sister, Lindsey and my cousin, Guy. Caroline, the baby at the time, is in the high chair. Paula is in the plaid dress. She would have been two at the time. Our life was full of celebrations in the 1950's. When our mothers and friends made a celebration it was an affair. All the confections were homemade. We were dressed for the occasion and expected to use the manners we were lovingly taught. No paper plates, no plastic forks and spoons. Love was involved in every step from preparation to clean up. There is one head, must be a boy, I do not recognize. This could have been any of my mother's friend's children. I tend to believe it is Drew Wood. I think Brenda Wood may be hidden between Drew and Lindsey. Drew and Brenda's mother, Verna, was my mother's life long best friend and the original "Martha Stewart". Every event required decoration. We were so lucky to have my mother and her friends teach us how to celebrate. How to dress for an occasion. How to set a table. How to sit at a table that has been set for an event. It made our lives better at the time and better for a lifetime.

My aunt, Lillie, was always a part of those parties. She and the other mothers took such care in preparation. My memories are full of beautiful, well set tables at my Aunt Lillie's house. Even those of us that sat at the "children's table" were greeted with a well set table. A starched and laundered tablecloth, cloth napkins, silver, crystal and some small centerpiece.

When I celebrate an event today, perhaps it may be the successful completion of a meal for friends, I am mindful of those experiences of our youth. I carefully prepare the food, not always completely homemade, dress the table and myself for the occasion. These rituals always bring to mind the spirit of those parties long ago and the wonderful ladies who took the time to prepare. My mother always said "people who dress pretty, act pretty". I believe people are more thoughtful when invited to share a meal at a dressed table. My mother, my Aunt and my mother's friends had no idea that there careful execution of those children's parties would be passed on to their grandchildren. My daughter, Katy, has become an adult who loves the ritual, that makes even a daily meal an occasion. I attribute that to those days in the 1940's and 1950's when my mother and her friends made even a nightly meal a ritual.

This Valentine's Day I will share a meal with friends. We are six people who have shared much of our adult lives together. As we go through the process of food preparation, setting the table; I will be reminded of those Valentine's parties long ago and be grateful.



Antidote: I often wonder if a meal or party well planned, where the adults are relaxed and fully engaged in conversation with the children would not go a long way in curing many of the social issues we have with our youth today. I do not believe it takes great financial resources to set a table and share a simple meal with ones children. Maybe we should start a movement.

Couple

Couple: to connect for consideration together; to join for combined effect; to fasten together; to bring into such close proximity as to permit mutual influence; to join in marriage.

Mutual influence. I never thought about couples in this way. Sometimes I think the influence is not so mutual but is actually more one sided. This is a photo of Richard's parents. It is a photo of Kathryn and Owen before marriage. I think Owen was the stronger influence. Kathryn learned to love to shoot a gun, bait a hook, and participate in anything that would take her outdoors and eventually connect her to her three boys. She was unafraid of critters and creatures. One time, after Richard and I were married and trying to grow something or anything in our first yard, I ventured into the woods with Kathryn to look for wild fern to transplant. I asked , "what shall we do if we see a snake?" I am terrified of a snake or anything resembling a snake. She said we would run. Of course we saw a rather large snake and I ran for the truck. I turned to see her beating that snake with a stick. She was remorseful and did not want me to tell Richard she had killed that snake because it was one of the good ones.

To join for combined effect. Sally and Jimmy were like that. They were especially like that when they danced. Watching them dance together was a magical experience. They danced with fire in their eyes and smiles on their faces. I don't think they knew another soul was witness to their dancing. I think they were happiest when they danced together. Their bodies moved so well together. Their steps never looked old fashioned or out of style. Their moves seem to fit whatever genre of music was faddish at the time. I have seen them look at each other just as they are in the photo a thousand times. I can't remember when they stopped dancing together. The last time I remember them dancing was twenty years ago one New Year's Eve. Mom would have been about my age. She fell that night on the dance floor and broke her arm. She had a fit at the hospital because they wanted to cut her new sweater in order to get to that arm. I know dad thinks about those dances with mom. I am sorry that style of dancing went out of fashion. I would love to see that combined effect one more time.

To connect for consideration together. Richard and I are so young in this photo. He was my best friend. An older guy that gave me advice.It is so ironic that one piece of advice was do not get married to anyone until you finish college. I thought he was quite handsome and so smart. This photo was taken the day he left for California to go to Coast Guard boot camp. In that day we still wrote letters. I have often thought that Richard and I fell in love compliments of the US Postal service. I still have poetry I wrote to him, letters he wrote to me. Photos back and forth as if we thought the change in six months would be too drastic. He finished boot camp. I finished high school. He was to be sent to Corpus Christi, TX. I have always thought he was just plain lonely in Texas. I can't even remember how marriage came up. The wedding. The hottest day on record in June ever. The trip to Corpus. We both did a lot of growing up. Especially me. I had never lived away from my family. I started college and was married all in the same year. We grew up together. I think this makes each more considerate. Richard had given me a copy of "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran. Gibran describes marriage as two trees with joined roots but that shade one another and allow growth. I think our marriage has been like that. We are connected for consideration together.