Not Twelve Anymore

Merry Christmas...A Snapshot from the Past

A snapshot from the past.

From our 1956 family

to your 2015 family

MERRY CHRISTMAS


Why is Dean looking at Judy like that?

This post is the latest in a series of posts that begin 9/23/15. That post is called Acorn in an Apple Suit. But in reality the story really starts way before that because this year's blog is a cartoon of my life.

I Can Do That

When I was a young girl I was told that if I wanted to go to heaven, all I had to be was good and a few other things. I took being good very seriously.

Being dunked wasn't so bad. I held my breath while Pastor Moneymaker held me under water, thereby gaining me access to heaven.  But I lost admission the very next day by committing one of the seven deadly sins. It was Monday, Christmas break, and I just felt like doing nothing but lying on the sofa all day long watching cartoons and eating Milk Duds. I was a dud and a lazy, good-for-nothing, sloth-- one of the deadly sins. Getting into heaven is not going to be as easy as I thought.

Where Babies Come From

In my twelfth year a friend realized she knew something I didn't, and she wanted to be the first one to break the news to me.

The news was horrifying. IT. SIMPLY. COULD. NOT. BE. TRUE. I mean, how could that possibly be right? I lived in a house with three other females, and never, ever could we be naked in front of each other. The naked body, I was told time and time again, was repulsive and disgusting and nasty and should be covered at all times. So putting two repulsive, disgusting, nasty naked bodies together was more than I could handle. I cried for days over that piece of news.

So now that I know that Mother has been untruthful with me, I have to wonder, what other lies has she been telling? What's next? That there's no Santa Claus??

Speaking of Being Good

Sigh A Lent Night

Oh, here's a funny story, although at the time no one was laughing.

It was supposed to be a fun-filled event where his and her children could get more acquainted. What better way than spending time in a car just driving around Indianapolis singing Christmas Carols, right? Anyway, Helen could not join us, and even though he was upset he couldn't spend every minute of the day with his future step-sister, Judy, Dean was also unable to come.

Ivan was driving; his girlfriend, Joy, sat up front right next to him, and her sister, Betty, sat in the back with Judy and me. Everyone was singing Carols and having a wonderful time. Everyone, that is, except Ivan. Ivan was focused on the road. Apparently he was focused only on the road, not what was on the road, for example the car in front of us.

I saw the two tiny red taillights far ahead of us, but thinking nothing of it--there are other cars on the road, ya know--I continued to sing along with the girls. "Joy to the world, the Lord has come. Let Bertha receive her ring." 

During the second chorus of "Sigh a Lent Night," I noticed that the two red taillights were getting closer, but thinking nothing of it--Ivan surely knows there is a car in front of us, right?--I continued singing Carols with the girls.

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells...what the hell? Just as the two very big taillights were about to become hood ornaments on Ivan's father's car, our car exploded with screams. Ivan jerked the wheel to the right, the car sped down an embankment, through a fence, and came to a stop in a field of expired cornstalks.

It was supposed to be a fun-filled way for her girls and his children to get to know each other, but maybe Hazel was right. Maybe Mother shouldn't marry this guy. I might not survive it.

The Reflection in Trump's Mirror

Right in the middle of my blog that is somewhere back in southern Indiana in 1956, I get pulled back to 2015 to draw a cartoon about a cartoon character. I'll take this down in a couple of days, but it was at the tip of my pen; I had to draw it. This is a conversation I imagine happening in the reflection in Trump's mirror.

Not a Big Deal

It was supposed to be a picnic, a fun-filled event where his and her children could get acquainted; a family outing on a lake in southern Indiana.  But Helen couldn't come and at the last minute, Ivan backed out. But Dean was excited to spend the day with his soon-to-be step-sisters, especially Judy. 

You know the story. I've written about it in my blog, so I'll skip past the part where sixteen-year-old Dean insisted on driving and somewhere south of Indianapolis on narrow two-lane Highway 135 decided to pass a car on a hill and narrowly made it back before impact with an oncoming car. I'll skip past the part where he kept looking at Judy in the rearview mirror, dropped a wheel off the shoulder, over corrected and shot across the road, but made it back on the road before impact with a tree. I'll just skip to the part where Mother, or was it Royal Orville, forgot the pop and Dean volunteered to go to the nearest town to get the forgotten drinks, and he invited me to go along. 

The country dirt roads were curvy and narrow. Dean turned up the radio, began to sing, and put the pedal to the metal. He was driving way too fast, skidded around a 90 degree turn, lost control of the car, and that's when we made impact with an oncoming car.

1954 Ford

A stranger--a young teenage girl--pulled me out of the car and laid me down on the grass nearby. She kept telling me not to fall asleep, but I really, really wanted to. She used something to cover the gash on my forehead, but the blood had already spilled all over my brand new t-shirt and pedal pushers. It was a hot day, but I was shivering and I thought I was going to be sick. Then everything went blank. I don't remember much of anything else, until that night and the next thirty or so nights. 

When I laid down to go to bed, the pain in my chest was excruciating. Every breath was painful, I tried not to cry, but I couldn't help it. Judy, in the twin bed next to mine, covered her ears with a pillow, and Hazel, on more than one occasion, threatened to whip me if I didn't stop crying. But I couldn't stop, so one day about a month after the accident Mother said to Hazel, "I think we should take Carol Louise to the doctor." And so they did. 

Two broken ribs, a concussion, and glass still imbedded in my forehead. But hey, no big deal.



Note: My blog reads backwards, last page to first. The current post is the most recent in a series of posts that relate to one subject. But you already knew that, didn't you?

Everything is Going to be Okay

Did You Hear Me?

You Can't Do It!

They couldn't bear it. Mother was leaving Hazel after seven years to marry the man she loved. Oh, Lord, there were so many reasons why this was a bad idea, so one day Hazel and the family called the pastor over to the house to try to change Louise's mind.

At first Mother was confused.

Confused

All her life she thought all she had to be was good: do the right thing, follow the rules. But everyone was always telling her what to do, how she should live her life. Now that she has found love, shouldn't they be happy for her? Shouldn't they support her decision to marry Royal Orville.

No! No! No! No! No!

Grandmother said that God does not approve of divorce, and to remarry is a sin that is worthy of spending eternity in hell. And besides, the man is an Indian. She knew there was something in the bible about not marrying Indians but she didn't know where is was off hand.  When Mother told Grandmother that he was a Christian and he attended The Church of God, Grandmother said, "Oh no! Not The Church of God! They have it all wrong. They're all going to hell."

Hazel said that she rescued Mother and her two girls and took care of them for seven years. When Mother needed her she was there. It was a sacrifice that Hazel did willingly. Now that Hazel needs Mother, Mother is leaving her...and for an Indian of all people.

Aunt Gracie said she wanted Mother to be happy, but she was concerned about Judy and Carol Louise. Because of Mother's inability to take care of herself and her two girls after their father abandoned the family, Gracie had taken them in and was a stable mother to them for five years. She handed that responsibility over to Hazel and she did an excellent job. When Mother told her sister that Royal Orville was a very good man with a high-paying factory job, Aunt Gracie said she had heard that, but she still wasn't convinced he was the man for Mother.  She didn't mention that he was an Indian, but she didn't have to because her husband said it for her.

Uncle Jimmy said, "She can't do it! She can't marry that Indian!" Of course, he didn't say the part about  him being an Indian in front of Mother. That would have been wrong.

When Louise asked the pastor what he thought, he said, "You can't do it!" and began to explain why, but Mother had stopped listening.

Mother became sad that no one was on her side. She felt shame and guilt for being so selfish, thinking only of herself.

Guilt & Shame

And then something happened that no one expected. 

Deviance 

She defied everyone and made a decision to marry the Indian from the hills and hollers of West Virginia. The courtship would take about a year and during that time, I would learn the horrific news about how babies are made, almost get myself killed by not one of my future stepbrothers, but both; and I would become painfully aware of just how important I wasn’t—or should I say the perception of how important I wasn’t--in an environment where adult lives mattered more and children were to be seen and not heard. I was becoming aware of where I fit into a family where inattention and distraction felt like indifference at best and neglect at worst.

Royal Orville

So here's the man who has created so much upheaval in our family: Royal Orville from the hills and hollers of West Virginia. He's dark and often mistaken for African American, but he is American Indian, Cherokee actually. But he's only part Cherokee. Which part I don't know, but somewhere way, way back there an Indian and a Caucasian did the nasty-nasty and had a baby. Not that "way, way back there" matters, though, because if he has an ounce of Indian blood in him, he can't marry into the Irish McCloud family.

As you know, the Irish are by far the finest examples of humans that God has ever created, and because of that they have always been treated with the utmost respect. They have never been looked down on and considered lower class.  In fact, because of their superiority, they are the only people who can judge others and be justified in doing so. The family will have to gather force and intervene. Louise cannot marry this guy.

What was that? Oh no! He has three children, too??

His: Helen, Ivan, and Dean  

Hers: Judy and Carol Louise

Uh, oh! Why is Dean looking at Judy like that?

Adults Talk, Children Listen

If anyone thinks that children are not influenced by the adults they keep company with, they are mistaken. When adults talk, children listen.

Down Hell's Path

Mother's announcement hit us all by surprise. Grandmother was first to warn Mother of God's displeasure should she continue down hell's path.

Hazel was next to try to change Mother's mind by reminding her of her sacrifice for Mother, Judy and me.

But nothing could dissuade Mother from following her heart.

Well, maybe it's not such a good idea after all.

Eleven

By the time I was eleven, the church had relaxed its strictness about what women could show and wear. But since I was a child, the new rules didn't affect me. Except for church and school, where I had to wear dresses, I continued to wear my usual attire: pants and t-shirt.

Whereas my sister, Judy, went from a pretty child to a beautiful teenager (at thirteen she was often mistaken for twenty-one), I went from ugly to ugly. My hair was baby fine, thin and unruly; I wore glasses, and because I refused to stop sucking my thumb, my two front teeth stuck so far out I couldn't close my mouth.

Hazel had moved us from the inner city to the suburbs of Irvington, and I was just beginning to feel at home at our new address when Mother made an announcement that would rock everyone's world and, if her mother was right, it would send her straight to hell.

Times...They Are a'Changin'

There was a time when I was very, very young when God's spokesman at our church, the pastor whose name shall remain untold, shared God's rule book with his faithful congregation. My mother, single with two young children to raise, had been told that since she was divorced--never mind that her husband left her for another woman--she was a sinner. With one strike already against her, she didn't want to break any more rules, so she did as she was told, until...

God changed his mind and rewrote the rule book.

Times...they are a'changin'

but we still can't dance, bowl or go to movies!!

Wanna bet?

Note: My blog reads backwards, last page to first. The current post is the most recent in a series of posts that relate to one subject. But you already knew that, didn't you?