I'm guessing mom was packing some Honda to the gills, and we were getting ready to hit the road, but she has this wonderful story, a story that still makes her cry. I was very young, doll-size maybe, and just as we were about to pull away, dad spoke. You have to understand we were all so young: mom maybe not even 19; dad not much older.Pointing to me, this is what he said: "She's not a doll, Mary. You can't just put her on a shelf and take her down when you want to play. You have to always love her." When mom tells the story her voice cracks on "shelf," and it feels like all the windows in the world are rolled up tight.
I guess what breaks my heart the most is thinking of the two of them--just kids--standing in the heat of the summer made hotter by the running engine, and him telling her this, and her memorizing it--learning it by heart, as they say--and carrying it with her all these years. "You can't just put her," she'll repeat, and every time, her voice wavering, "on a shelf," she'll say. Then the engine hums, and we're on the road, and maybe she looks back but maybe she doesn't, and we're heading somewhere--fast--but we won't know where till we get there.
7 comments:
Oh Nicole,
This mama cries real tears when I read this. You have such a talent when you are writing stories about your family. I can't wait to read more, even when I am crying so hard. All of your writing is amazing, but, I so love being quoted or written about. I love that you make your childhood sound like a southern novel When it becomes a screenplay, I want to be a consultant and make the decision on which actress plays me. It' s me and you kid. Who loves you?
Mom
I LOVE that story. I could feel the heat and almost heard the sound of your mom's heartbeat. I can't imagine what it took to make that decision. .. . .your parents are amazing.
Oh mama! I love that you love being quoted. As for being a consultant, I'll have to quote you again: "We'll jump off that bridge when we get to it!"
"I guess what breaks my heart the most is thinking of the two of them--just kids--standing in the heat of the summer made hotter by the running engine..."
What a sweet story -- and one with a happy ending! Don't be heartbroken over it though. We didn't know it was hot (never had air conditioning), and we didn't know we were kids. I didn't even know we were poor, although we didn't have a pot to peeeeeeeel our potatoes in.
~Dad
Ah, pappy, so true. It does seem strange, but I wouldn't have wanted any of it to turn out any different than it did. And though we didn't have a pot to peeeeeeeel our potatoes in, I clearly remember a big ole pot for space noodles and three spoons for Joe, you and me.
Space noodles...now there's a summer's fare. I don't remember much...a fireman's hat here, a race car there...and sleeping. Sleeping in that space formed by the back of the couch and dad's legs. And I do remember the heat...without any knowledge of air conditioning.
Wow, that was such a story. Thank you for sharing.
I so enjoy reading every member of your family's posts and their take on the day.
A sight to read.
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