A Dark Day

I am always an early riser. 6:00 a.m. rolls around and I am out of bed and down the street to our neighbors house wondering if the boys can play.

The days were my own. And I filled them with everything possible. Kickball, digging, singing, building, singing again, dancing, acrobatic feats, sliding down the stairs, hanging off the stairs, etc.

Most of this was completed, and completed well, by lunch.

And then, one day…it happened. The worst of all things imaginable. The horror of horrors. The darkest day known to mankind.

Kindergarten.

I had to wear nice clothes. I had to brush my hair and keep it neat. I had to listen and get in line and sit down and walk, NOT RUN, and be quiet and behave and…oh forget it! The list is too long!

Even more excruciating than this was the learning and the producing of the learning.

“Look, Kara, if you do these math problems, you can color the picture.” (A sing songy tone accompanies this statement.)

I colored the picture and did not do the problems.

“Look, Kara, if you stay in line, you can have this sticker.” (Another sing songy statement.)

No skipping, no hopping, no jumping in line…and all I get for my great control is a sticker that looks like a rainbow?

My mama didn’t raise no fool!

Cinderella Slopped Her Dripper (As my dad always says.)

There’s this hymn we sing in church called, “Were You There?”. As an adult it brings tears to my eyes. As a child, well…you’ll see.

Grace has a middle son and if you valued your pride, you probably didn’t want to sit next to him in church, or you might pee on yourself from laughing so hard.

I don’t know where he came up with some of the stuff he said, but it was hilarious. And for some reason, he was even funnier in church. Maybe it’s because we were supposed to be praying and being very holy.

Topping his sense of humor is a very, very charming personality. And at a very early age he had the presence of mind to be courteous and considerate toward females. Not many men have this instinct.

As a result, plenty of girls had crushes on him. And he showed care, concern, and consideration for all of them.

So, I have always thought of him as a real-life Prince Charming. My favorite prince is Phillip from Sleeping Beauty. He’s the only prince that actually has to save the princess. (It’s so romantic! Sigh…)

It wasn’t too long before Phillip started taking care of Wendy. I think he was about 5 and she 4.

When we went on day trips and had to walk, he would carry her on his back when she got tired. If she was thirsty, he got her a drink. If she wanted to go down the slide, he would go down with her. For protection.

Wendy might have been the first girl he paid particular attention to, but she wouldn’t be the last. We are all enchanted by him. We are all special to him. We are all important in his eyes.

And, so, this is our Phillip. Humor, charm, and chivalry all wrapped up one in one guy.

But beware of Sundays…

“Were you there when they nailed him to a tree? Were you there when they nailed him to a tree? Oh, oh, oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, (“What?”, says Phillip in your ear.), tremble, (“Excuse me?”, asks Phillip.), tremble.” (“Oh,” he finishes. And now you have wet your pants because you are trying so hard not to laugh, but you can’t help it and there is your mother glaring at you from her seat in the choir.)

Sister

They are glorious creatures when treasured and treated correctly. We are given the opportunity by God to create a bond that can be so formidable it carries us through pimples, first kisses, husbands, births, deaths, and laundry.

This bond does not need blood lines to exist…

Jo has a daughter. All- American good looks. Feisty. Loyal. Affectionate.

Oh, and opinionated.

Maria and I immediately claimed her as our friend and she did the same with us. We were always together…talking, playing “college girls”, spying on our parents, talking, bossing the boys around, talking, performing dance recitals, and fort building. And did I mention talking?

We solved so many problems when we were together…just talking. We solved our parents’ problems, the boys’ immaturity issues, mean-teacher syndromes, bullies’ emotional repressions, and so on. We voiced our solutions regularly. I don’t know why no one ever listened to us.

Usually, creating a sisterly bond with someone who doesn’t live with you takes time. This one did not.

No matter how long we are a part, when we see each other again, we pick up right where we left off. Maria, Wendy, and I are blessed to have her.

She is a definite mix of contradictions. She would play outside in her best dress, prance around like a princess and then climb trees in the blink of an eye.

She loved make-up. And nail polish and jewelry. She had boyfriends by the time she was in the fourth grade. (And that was plural, by the way.)

She is wickedly smart, didn’t get grossed out when Jack split her finger in half, is not ashamed to show a little skin, and most of her favorite movies almost always have two guys fighting over one girl.

There is so much more to say, but instead of telling you, I will hopefully show you. Until then, here is a little dialogue for you:

“Let’s play college girls,” I say. “I’ll be Victoria!”

“I’ll be Maria!” my sister declares.

“I’ll be Hot Lips,” says our new sister. “No, just Hot.” A thoughtful look crosses her face. “No, just Lips.” More thinking. “No, Hot Lips.”

(She only used this name once. So, I’ll be nice and not change her name to Hot Lips.)

Usually, she was…Roxi.

You are so drop dead gorgeous!

Grace was the mother of two boys. Redheaded they were and I looked like their sister. It fooled people so much that often I was mistaken for Grace’s daughter.

The oldest of Grace’s children was probably the cutest kid I have ever seen.

Like I said, his hair was red. But, it curled just a little bit. And his eyes glowed with merriment and happiness and sometimes mischief. Give him a green top hat and you’ve got yourself the cutest Leprechaun ever!

He was the first peace maker. He was everyone’s friend and everyone’s comforter. He had the ability to get between me and Jack and steer us in some kind of direction, so we would make a decision.

(So, who was the real leader, I wonder?)

He never met a person he didn’t like. Everyone was worth knowing and he was awed by everyone he met.

He asked question, after question, after question. And he was always learning. Always making something.

The greatest thing he ever made was pure joy. Spend one minute with him and he made you feel good about yourself. Loved. Liked.

And apparently he had dreamy eyes and a killer smile. Wendy thought he was drop dead gorgeous! She wrote him her first love note in the first grade.

And, of course, he was ever so sweet to her.

So, he shall be called Gorgeous.

Inside and out, he always was and still is.

The Fort That Jack Built

I am going to introduce my friends in order of birth. (Though, I am still the oldest.)

I was a loud child, boisterous when my feelings weren’t hurt, bossy as long as I knew I wasn’t hurting someone’s feelings, and always rarin’ to go.

I met my match when Jack came into my life.

Jack was just as boisterous, just as bossy, and just as ready to live life as I was. Consequently, we fought a lot.

I had ideas about what we should do for fun and so did he. And God help us if our ideas didn’t match. We would argue for probably 10 minutes, wasting precious play time, while our friends groaned and waited for us to make up our minds.

I won a lot.

But so did he because I was a tomboy and Jack loved to play games outside and build stuff. He would build forts in the empty lot next to his house. We would help…most of the time.

The girls didn’t like it when I let Jack win. (Let…he he he.) They weren’t tomboys and didn’t want to play Hide-And-Seek, or build forts. Maria was so annoying whenever we would play Hide-And-Seek. Whenever she was “it”, she would say she was tired and go back inside. It always stopped us from playing. (SO ANNOYING!)

When I won, we usually made the boys dance to the soundtrack from “American Graffiti”. I’m pretty sure the only reason why they are good dancers now is because we made them practice at such an early age.

Jack and I were the oldest and the ring leaders and we fought for control. But I couldn’t have thought up all the fun we had on my own. He is, without doubt, the best instigator of fun I have ever known. In this instance, he is a lot like his mother, Jo.

And though we argued, and I could make him pretty cotton pickin’ mad, we loved each other anyway. I wouldn’t have my driver’s license if it weren’t for him. My wedding reception would’ve been ruined if not for him.

And as adults, we can still fight. (You should see us play Charades.) But he is our protector. Our champion. And if I could steal a few lines from a song that reminds me of him…

“Nothing’s gonna harm you. No one’s gonna dare. Others may desert you, not to worry, whistle I’ll be there. Demons may charm you with a smile, for awhile, but in time…nothing can harm you, not while I’m around.

…they should show you exactly who Jack was and is.

Our Friends

I was not a shy child. Maria definitely was. Wendy definitely WAS NOT.

We complimented each other rather well and have made some lifelong friends because of our compliments. The three of us had a little bit of everything.

When we met our friends for the first time, Wendy was still cooing from her baby seat. She got passed around between Jo, Grace, and my mother. But she certainly watched us whenever we ran into her line of sight.

There were four new friends for us…three boys and one girl. With Wendy in the mix, we outnumbered the boys…thank God! Of course, Wendy wasn’t big enough to help out, yet, but we girls did pretty good.

Whatever the girls wanted to play was what the boys played. And even if the boys tried to make a stand and play without us, they almost always tried to mess up what we were playing. (Which meant they really couldn’t bear to play without us.)

It was cute when the boys tried to stand up to us, but eventually, they would always…

Rock Around The Clock!

(He, he, he.)

Stay tuned for their names…

Room At The Inn

There is always that one house where everything happens. For us, that house belonged to a family of four.

My dad met these very special friends at his RCIA classes. The wife was the one who always saved a seat for him. I am pretty sure she figured out really quick that Dad needed everything to be saved, including his seat.

I am going to call her Joseph. Jo, for short.

She reminds me of Joseph, Mary’s husband. She always does for everyone else, regardless of how it affects her. She takes a lick and keeps on ticking. Maybe I should think of her as the Energizer Bunny…

No…she’s Joseph.

Her house was where all the action happened. She always had room for everyone and made sure everyone had fun while they were under her roof. It was, in fact, a second home to me and my sisters.

Jo loves first, laughs second, and advises third. Her memory is long and very vivid. One of my favorite things to do was listen to her remember things from her childhood. It made me realize how very important my childhood would be to me. And I did my best to soak up as much of it as I could.

Jo had Halloween parties, and Christmas parties, and Easter egg hunts, and slumber parties, and Just-Because parties. Eventually, the younger girls got into the party planning and began to create their own parties.

One centered around training bras. (But that is another story for a later post.)

If I learned one thing from Jo, it was to pay attention to the people who crossed your path. You never know what gems you might discover hidden inside. And if you got stepped on, so what?

Mary’s husband had one of the most important roles of all. And he takes a back seat in the grand scheme of things. But, without Joseph, things would not have been as “right” as they were.

And that is who she is. A person whose heart and words making everything right.

Jo…a very small name for a larger than life heart.

But, she doesn’t have to wave around a flashy name to make her mark. She does it just by being in the room.