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Life Isn’t Fair
It is basketball season again and it brings to mind a heartbreaking lesson my youngest son, Wyatt, had to learn. Wyatt was born with a baseball in one hand and a basketball in the other. His older brother was about to turn five when he was born, so he was always trying to live up to his big bro’s standards . . . a tough job for one so much younger. No one let him win at anything for the simple pleasure of winning. He had to work hard to learn how to compete at an early age, because his brother was athletic, an honor student, and wanted to be…
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Snow Days
Do snowy days make you introspective? They do me. Maybe because snow is such a novelty in our area of southern Illinois. Everything comes to a halt. Since our rural infrastructure (that seems an oxymoron) is not prepared to handle the slightest abundance of white fluff or ice, school districts, daycares, social agencies, churches, government, and colleges shut down. Many of us hunker down, drinking more coffee than usual, living vicariously through frosty windows, as birds seem busier working on seeds in feeders. Excitement builds as breathtaking crystals float together in harmonic conspiracy, to change the landscape and insulate sound. And it makes our hearts happy. I am a passive…
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Dear Son
This story was first published November 11, 2009: Dear Son, You are my hero and I love you. Never did I expect to be a military mother. You are the child most like me, yet my views of the world at 23 and yours are so different. Because of my love and respect for you, my first-born, I sat aside my wavering personal beliefs of war, politics, and global concerns when I was thrust into this new world of patriotism, defense, and Blue Star Mothers that will now forever be a part of our family. When Southern Illinois lost Aaron and Brian to this war in Iraq, I watched young men in…
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Memphis Truck Stop
Several years ago, my sister, mother, and I made a trip to Memphis, TN, and ate at a truck stop . . . no, we didn’t purposely go there to eat at a truck stop, but it was the highlight of that two-day trip to our mother’s eye surgeon. We really enjoyed going to Graceland too, but since we measured our fun by tried and true scientific methods, it just didn’t live up to our “fun standards”. Reaching the top of our fun scale depended upon 1) how long and hard we belly laughed, and 2) how close any of us came to peeing our pants. While Graceland was a great time,…
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My Lucky Rock
After hearing all Jim’s childhood stories, I teased him that he was raised by the idyllic Ozzie and Harriet. Ozzie and Violet (their real names), provided a comfortable, suburban, middle class life for their family, and didn’t seem to make many child-rearing mistakes. The time Jim was at a Sears store playing on the escalator while his mother shopped nearby, was the only questionable parenting decision I am aware of (sister Joanne may disagree with this). It was winter and Jim was five. He was going up and down the escalator like his mother told him not to, and his heavy coat became stuck in the handrail. Before he could…
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Game On
For years, the daily routine was Calen and Wyatt would come home from school and get a game on in the front yard. It didn’t matter if it was hot or cold, football or baseball, or two or more brothers, cousins, friends, or neighbors. It was most often some combination of the two Kirklands, the three Morgans, the four Johnsons, the two Gulleys and the lone Dillard . . . no girls allowed. The air would be full of voices and laughter wafting into the house through open windows. Balls were always bouncing off the roof or picture window. When a baseball hit the front window one day and he…
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Captain Mustard
Just like my kids only eating “magic carrots” at daycare or the luxury of having fried SPAM on a toasted bagel as a backpacking delicacy over a campfire, so it is with Captain Mustard, that rare annual treat while on vacation in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Rainy day on Cisco Lake? No problem. Dock the boat. Stow skiis, kayaks, tubes, and head for town. The line of customers at noon, beneath the red canopy attached to the tiny travel trailer boasting signs painted red, yellow, and blue, is made up of tourists, locals, and laborers on lunch break. Reminiscent of the “Soup Nazi” of Seinfeld era, customers overlook the…
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A Thief Amongst Us
My dad’s last two surgeries, months apart, brought about some interesting antics. He always carried a lot of cash in his wallet–too much cash for his own good. My sister Geri and I worried he’d be knocked in the head and robbed. And my mother worried the same thing, for decades. It was a terrible habit and I think it had something to do with all the many times he struggled for cash, so that when he had it, he wanted it with him. Upon admitting Daddy for a heart catheterization, the hospital made sure Geri and I had taken all his belongings: watch, ring, wallet, keys, change. We wouldn’t…
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Why Isn’t She Normal?
We are spending this weekend in Minnesota to celebrate our first grand baby’s first birthday. He is a joy beyond measure. My mother always said, “If I’d had these grand babies first, I’d never had you girls!” Now I understand. Greyson is perfect, incredibly smart, and the happiest baby I’ve ever seen. We can’t get enough of him. I suppose my grandparents must have felt the same about the little curly-haired toddler I was. I’m thankful things have changed so much from then to now and there aren’t cigarette ashtrays on every table, because although I’d be curious to know if my DNA runs deep in Greyson, I am hoping…
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Intellectual Ditz
One day while I was sitting at a table in my university’s student union trying to read Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, a fellow environmental biology classmate came over and introduced himself. It was hard to miss how tall, good-looking, and well-dressed he was–the distinct opposite of me. The crazy thing was, about a month prior to this meeting, I had broken my wire-framed glasses and had literally taped the earpiece onto the frames with black electrical tape. My long hair was in two braids hanging down my plaid flannel shirt, topped off with a bandana spread over my head and tied at the back of my neck. No makeup, ragged jeans,…
