Our Music

"My song first, Maria. Then we'll listen to yours."

Maria glares at me, her hands on her hips. "We listen to yours all the time," she declares.

I roll my eyes at her and reach for the sleeve that holds my favorite 45.

"No!" Maria shouts. "It's my turn."

I stop and think. Now that I have discovered I am good at taking care of people, I realize I am not taking good care of my sister. I can share, can't I? I'll get to listen to my favorite song later. After all, isn't it better to be kind?

"Okay," I tell Maria. "We'll listen to yours first."

With a triumphant grin, Maria slips her favorite 45 onto our plastic record player and the music of Lipps, Inc. blasts through our cotton candy pink room. We dance to Funkytown, Maria, Wendy, and I. We giggle when the "Darth Vader" voice sings, "Won't you take me to". We lip sync, we spin, we sing, we laugh.

Ah, music...

Maria's song ends and now it is my turn. Maria and Wendy don't stay because they don't care for my song, but that is alright with me.

Reverently, I place the 45 on the record player and close my eyes in anticipation. The music hits me, wafts around me and fills me with gladness. I sing along without dancing. Singing is more important.

I don't really know what the words mean. The melody is all that matters and I sing every note perfectly.

"Lookin' For Love"...

What a song!

Searching For Me

Let's see...

I can't do Math. 6 + 7 is too much for me. I can't sit still in my seat. I can't keep my hair neat.

I can read and I read very well...but, I can't answer questions about what I read.

I can throw and kick a ball with vigor and accuracy, but I can't usually beat the boys even though I try really hard.

I can spell and I never even have to study, but I can't seem to win the spelling contests in class.

I have enough energy to play from sun-up to sun-down, but not always someone to play with.

I can sing, but there isn't an appropriate venue for singing since I am only 6.

Hmmm...

I can get Bill out of bed in the morning. I can make him smile at me. I can change his diaper and I can feed him...

And there is no "but" in that sentence.

My Absolute Fav-o-rite Place!

An acre and a half.

A cement driveway large enough to hold 6 or 7 trucks.

The cement wraps around a garage that doubles as a small engine repair shop.

Enough smooth surface for bikes, scooters, skateboards, and big wheels.

Enough yard for baseball games, dune buggies, go carts, tractors, and motor bikes.

This place, this Heaven, is my grandpa and grandma's house. My grandpa created a Mecca for his grandchildren. There was a vehicle for everyone and we were always drivin', or ridin', or scootin', or hittin'.

Inside there were people playing cards, or scrabble, while silver pots bubbled with potatoes and the oven produced a roast so fine, it melted in your mouth.

"Hey, Kara!" my dad calls as I careen around the corner of the garage on a big wheel. "Get in," he orders.

He is driving the go cart. I hop up from my big wheel and he cries, "Hurry every chance you get! Your mama will be stickin' her head out the door any second!"

Mom didn't care much for the go carts and worked really hard at keeping us off of them. She lost the battle frequently.

I hop onto the cushioned seat next to my dad and he takes off. The wind is whipping through my hair as we shoot across the driveway, over the grass in the front yard and swerve around the house into the big yard out back. "Yeehaw!" I scream just like the Dukes, my grin splitting my face.

The frigid air (it is December) burns my cheeks, but I don't care. My dad is driving like he's Bo Duke and I am screaming at him to go faster. Luke and Han are racing past us on the motor bike and dune buggy, swapping insults with my dad as they pass us up.

We race around the garage, coming back toward the big driveway and as my dad takes the small jump up onto the driveway, I go rolling out of the go cart. I roll and roll and roll and when I stop, I am surprised as all get out that I am not hurt at all.

"Hey, girl, are you alright?" my dad asks.

I hop to my feet and say, "I'm ok! My puffy coat saved me!"

"Well, thank God for the coat," he says. "Now get back in here and we'll do one more lap."

I hop in and off we go!

Goodness, I adore this place.

Efficient Evening Activities

That time between homework (God save me) and bedtime was my favorite time of day. Mom would make supper, while Bill played with his cars as he sat in his high chair, and Dad would play with us girls.

Hide-and-Seek. And this is how it went.

Dad was always "It", which blew my mind because who would choose to be "It" every time? However, I didn't question him aloud because I wasn't going to be the one who ruined a good thing.

Dad would start counting and we would run and hide, giggling as we ran, pushing long hair out of our faces as we raced to the best hiding spots in the house. He always counted slowly, giving us plenty of time to hide. I made my decision quickly, but Wendy would take forever, giggling as she would hide behind the couch and then change her mind and hide between the piano and the fireplace...in plain view. Then she'd giggle again and run off to a new spot.

I assumed he counted slowly to increase the suspense of the finding. I am not so sure now.

When Wendy finally settled on a place, he would shout, "Ready or not, here I come!"

We'd squeal and giggle with excitement and then he'd say, EVERY TIME, "Are you girls ready?"

And we'd all shout, "Ready!"

EVERY TIME.

And wouldn't you know it, he would find us in less than 10 seconds. At six and a half I thought he was the best detective in the world. At thirty six I am feeling a little stupid.

My dad certainly knew how to get things to work in his favor.

The Trials of Playing

Jack and Roxi have a vacant lot next to their house. It is the perfect place for Hide-and-Seek, or tag, or fort building.

Jack, Georgie, Phillip, and I head outside to breathe in the fresh air and run out the ants that were always in our pants.

Roxi, Maria, Wendy, and Lela are still inside where there is air conditioning.

I breathe in deep, relishing the sun's rays on my skin and the sound of the leaves crunching beneath my feet, as I follow the boys to the fort.

It is just a floor suspended between three trees about 10 feet off the ground, but it is magical to be up in a tree.

"After we nail the boards to the trunk for the second floor, we'll play Hide-and-Seek," Jack informs us.

"That's a good plan," Georgie agrees. "How many boards do we need?"

"Four."

I look up and narrow my eyes at the space above us. It is a pretty wide expanse between the three trees, and it is much higher up. I don't think Jo is gonna go for a second floor of the tree house.

"That's gonna be too high up," I inform Jack. "I bet your mom doesn't let you."

"Then why do I have the boards for the steps up here already?" he asks me, his hands set on his hips.

"Did you ask your mom?" Georgie wants to know, probably realizing the same thing I am.

Jack rolls his eyes and doesn't answer the question. Instead he tells Phillip to grab some nails from the bucket and he picks up one of the boards.

I sigh and sit, watching the three boys nail four boards into the trunk of the tree. Jack steps back and admires their work, declaring it to be perfect. We climb back down, ready to play Hide-and-Seek, but I don't want to play with only three hiders.

"I'm gonna go get the girls."

I dash inside, hollering for the girls, taking the stairs two at a time. I find them arguing because Wendy and Lela were spying on Roxi and Maria while they were playing college girls. I holler above their arguing, "The boys wanna play Hide-and-Seek. Do y'all wanna come play?"

Wendy and Lela giggle and stick their tongues out at Roxi and Maria, completely ignoring me. Roxi and Maria screech to see the protruding tongues and I start to get impatient. Jack isn't going to wait forever.

I holler again, "Let's play Hide-and-Seek!"

Maria whips around and glares at me. "I don't want to sweat, Kara!"

I roll my eyes, put my hands on my hips, and yell, "Well, you aren't gonna run that much anyway!"

"Then why do you want me to play?" she says, raising one eyebrow just like my mother.

I groan and flounce off. It is so annoying trying to get a good game of Hide-and-Seek going. I can't afford to argue with them anymore because Jack is going to get impatient and find something else to do if I don't hurry up.

I run outside to find the boys gone. Disappointed, I walk back inside.

Well...at least I know his mother isn't going to let him build a second floor and now I'm glad Wendy and Lela are annoying Maria and Roxi...

I decide to go help them.

Dutiful Catholics Continued

"Because, Dear Heart, if God gives you a gift you must use it in service to Him. You share your time and your talent so others might do the same."

So advises, with a raised eyebrow and a calm, steady, English teacher tone, Mylin. My mother always gives a rebuttal with a formal tone and a raised brow.

It was at this point I became aware that she would expect the same from me.

I am scared...

Dutiful Catholics

Oh, wouldn't it be great if there was a nursery at church? Parents could actually listen to the homily instead of whispering in a fierce, yet God-like tone, "Get off the floor." "Stop jumping." "Don't turn around." "Be quiet."

Parents could sing without having to keep tiny hands off the pages of the hymnal for fear of that sickening sound echoing high into the rafters....Rip!

Oh, how wonderful that would be!

And, even better, it could be open on Thursday evenings during choir practice. More adults would join the choir and wouldn't have to pay for a babysitter! Grace and Jo would trade off watching the lovely children and...another brilliant idea...we could teach them about their Catholic faith through song and dance and coloring!

Such dutiful Catholics...

So, it was all wrecked. Everything. Ruined.

No more bowling alley. No more balance beam. No more sliding down the stairs with the couch cushion.

No more...

Why, oh, why does my mother have to always get involved?