Down On The Corner

 As everyone must know by now I love music. I do not remember a time when the radio was not playing in our house. 

We listened to all types of music. My father was very fond of the 1812 Overture. Mom liked Cowboy Copas. When Elvis hit the scene I would dance through the house to Rock & Roll.

On TV we watched Spike Jones. That is where my love of silly songs started. We watched Lawrence Welk. I desperately wished I could be a Lennon sister. American Bandstand was seen all over the country... except where I lived. My grandparents did get that program so I could watch when I spent a few days there.

And of course it seemed like every town had at least one aspiring Rock & Roll band. It did not take me long to figure out that the first song every band learned to play was Green Onions. It is an instrumental song by Booker T and the MGS if you want to find it on YouTube.

Of course I had my favorites. I have written about them before so I will let you breathe. But I do want to mention two groups.

The Everly Brothers were from Iowa. Their voices blended so beautifully together. I think Wake Up Little Suzy was the first of their songs I heard. What made them special was that they never had a bad song. Every song they sang was perfect. My favorite is Poor Jenny.

Creedence Clearwater Revival also never had a bad song. They sang about bayous and swamps even though they were from California. Willie And The Poor Boys was not their first hit but it made us feel like we were watching those poor boys on the corner sing and dance to make a bit of money. My favorite somg is It Came Out Of The Sky.

Who do you enjoy listening to?

Do Not Wonder Why I Admire Her

There were 9 children in my husband's family. Three girls and 6 boys. My husband was one of the younger boys. Two of the boys were younger than he was.

The brother next to him in age was just beginning to walk. Suddenly he became very sick. His fever was high. 

As with all families at that time they tried to treat him at home. He only got worse.

They took him to the hospital. The diagnosis was spinal meningitis. The doctors told my other-in-law and father-in-law that he would be dead within two weeks.

He could not eat or drink. He would never walk or talk.

They understood that the family had other children so it was recommended that the baby be placed in a nursing home. The doctors felt it would be easier on the family not to watch him die. And no one was equipped to care for him.

My mother-in-law had other ideas. After much arguing she finally forced them to show her how to put the tube down his throat and into his stomach so she could feed him and give him water. She said that if he was going to die he would die at home surrounded by people who loved him.

Mom fed and bathed him every day. She held him and sang to him. She would make a soft place for him on the floor so he could watch a family of cardinals through the window. If the weather was nice enough she would take him outside for some sun and fresh air.

He lived for years not weeks. He was loved and as comfortable as he could be. It was love that did that for him.

He was becoming a young man. Mom told me that he was beginning to get body hair. She worried she would die before he did and no one could take care of him like she did.

One day my husband said no one woke them up. They went over for breakfast. No one was there. They knew their brother had died. It was their father's birthday.

My Sister Moved

Thank goodness for telephones. They help me stay in touch with those I love. 

I try to stay in touch so I can hear those precious voices.

My youngest sister was my "baby".  She was born when I was 11 years old. I guess my maternal instincts were kicking in.

In large families the older children always help with the younger ones. I was more than willing to help  with my sister. I took everywhere I could. She even went on several dates with me. 

My sister loved being the baby. She was about 8 years old when she decided we could call her a LITTLE girl instead of a baby..

One time my date and I took her to the circus. She even won a prize. (When they went around selling chocolate bars the ones in their pockets had the numbers entitling you to a prize.) We left the circus early because my sister did not feel well. I thought maybe too much candy.

My parents checked her and took her straight to the hospital. Her appendix was ready to burst. An emergency appendectomy fixed her right up. When she came home from the hospital I helped nurse her back to health.

Now my baby sister is retired. She lives with her youngest son and his family. It is a good arrangement.

Recently my nephew got a new job. It pays a lot more. But it meant they had to move to North Carolina from Michigan.

My sister loves it there. She even has a balcony outside her bedroom. Her granddaughters love to play there. 

So I can still talk to her on the phone. And she sends pictures of her new home. What a great invention phones are.

Taking Care Of Mom

 My children take good care of me. And do not think for one second that I am ungrateful. However there are times that they go a bit too far. 

Now I tried really hard take care of their wants and needs when they were little. I like to think I did a good job. I not only love my children but I like them too.

One year my youngest son and his wife decided they wanted to host our Christmas celebration at their house. When I asked what they wanted me to bring they told me, "You always do everything, This time you will do nothing." So we all had a wonderful time and all I had to do was enjoy it.

My daughter was all of 18 years old. She was the manager of a pizza store. She was required to work long hours and often quite late. It was not a bad neighborhood but it was not really a good neighborhood. She was careful as I knew she would be. She never had any problems thank goodness.

One day I mentioned to her that I had a doctor's appointment coming soon. She immediately began to scold me! "Mother you know I have to work that day. I won't be able to take you." I told her that I had been going to the doctor by myself for many years. Then she said in her most imperious voice, " But that is different. I can take care of myself." Kids...

As you know I had a stroke a couple of years ago. I am so fortunate that it was not more serious than it was. My problem was that my taste buds and salivary glands were affected.  Because of that I could not eat. 

When I told the doctors they would tell me things like just eat what you can. Which was nothing. I tried in the beginning. Eventually I gave up. I was eating nothing. My son was thinking of putting me in a home hoping they could get me to eat.

Then one day he had an idea. He bought child sized foods like applesauce, yogurt, and smoothies. Every few hours he would bring me one to choke down. If you notice all of them are wet foods.

I began to feel better. Eventually I would try a piece of toast. Then some scrambled eggs. I now can eat whatever I want.

That was when I realized that I had been dying of starvation. It really was not so bad. I did not desire food at all and I just kept getting weaker and weaker. My son saved my life.

So you can see my children take care of me.

 

The Boy With His Head In A Cloud

One of my brothers is an enigma. There were seven of us. We fell into groups. I was one of the older girls and we were referred to as the girls. The older two boys were the boys. The last two were the kids.   That is only six you say? You are correct. We were the boys, the girls, the kids, and David. (I use that name because it is my favorite name for a boy.)

This does not mean that David was left out of things. It was just a convenient way of referring to us.

David seemed to be in his own little world. He liked to be alone while he was playing. I used to say it was like his head was in a cloud. He loved playing with his cars and trucks. He made elaborate roadways for them. Some were half a block long.

Animals loved him. They let him put his hands in their mouths (ew) and never complained. One day he went up behind the family dog as she was eating. She did not realize he was behind her. When he jumped on her back (as he often did) she turned around and bit him before she was sure what was happening.

David was bitten on both lips. Mom rushed him to the doctor whose office was half a block away. The doctor cleaned him up and recommended that he be taken to another doctor the next town over. Our doctor was quite old and his shaking made it impossible to do jobs that required a steady hand.

The new doctor said that normally wounds like these would require stitches but they tried not to stitch animal bites. He said that in the future David would need plastic surgery to repair the damage. I am happy to say that his lips healed and except for a tiny scar on his upper lip there is nothing to show that it ever happened.

We built a house. It was located on a small hill. There was one house across the street from us and another way up at the end of the street. David loved to ride his sled down the hill in the winter.

One day there was a knock on the door. When Mom answered a man stood there with his hands on David's shoulders. The man was pale with fear.

David had ridden down the hill and into the street just as the man in his pickup truck was driving on the street. David and his sled had gone right under the pickup. The man did not know whether David had been hurt.

David was fine. After a few minutes to collect himself the man went on his way.

It all happened decades ago. David has still not done himself any serious damage. 

White Boy

My sister-in-law died a couple of years ago. There were times we were very close and others when we did not speak. She was always good to my children. I loved her children.

Her mother was American Indian and her father was French. She did not see much of him and little of her mother. She was mostly raised in an Indian boarding school.

She told me that once at a basketball game she gushed over a cute boy on their team. Her older sister explained that he was her brother. She had no idea that she had brothers. She soon found out that she had a large family.

She was close to her two older sisters. She also had three younger sisters. The older two of them had babies the same time as I did. All those babies... But I digress.

When my sister-in-law was still in school she told the nuns she was going to marry a white boy. She met my brother-in-law and fell hopelessly in love. 

Against the wishes of his parents they married and promptly had three children in three years. 

Now my brother-in-law was not always the best husband. For one thing he tended to wander and carry on with other women. My sister-in-law was naturally hurt but she was the best wife she knew how to be. She always forgave him.

Once she went to visit her old boarding school. When she was talking to one of the nuns she told her about her husband. The nun asked her why she ended up marrying a white boy.

When my brother-in-law was in prison she stayed by his side even though he had been wandering before he went in. She found out she had inoperable cancer.

She lived with the knowledge that she was dying. She told me that she had prepared herself to die but she hoped for another year so she would be there when her husband came home.

She was still alive when he came home. I worried that he would carry on with the woman he had been seeing before. Instead he went with her to doctor appointments. He helped her get around. He even went to church with her. He made her last days happy.

All she wanted to be was his wife. In her last days he was finally also her husband.