Applause!

Take a bow! Curtsey! Applause! Humor and Fun! Games to be Won! Clouds in the Sky! Sunshine! Singing! Joy! Emotions galore! Yes, all of these things come to my Mind when I begin to write another Chapter in this Love Story to Me. Me! This Child of God and Mankind! This Spirit Gentle, Mild, Glowing and Beautiful! YES! ME! BEAUTIFUL!!!! A Gift, a wonderful child awaited so very long. Blond, Curly Ringlets, Shirley Temple Style. How long did I have to sit to get that Hairdo? Was I patient, did I let Mom dote over me? Or did I never have time? Would I have been a Tomboy? WAS I Tom Sawyer up in that Tree???? Did I Conquer and Rule my little World? Yes, I feel I did! This is a surprise coming out from my Mind. Why? Because somewhere later on, somewhere in a time when I felt Lost and Abandoned, I lost these feelings, as most Children do I suppose as they  have a guide into the "Real" World. As we moved from Missouri to Iowa. As I grew older. As the Real World Turned. I moved from my make believe world, my "Kingdom". I was no longer the Extreme Ruler, the owner of all lands before me and beyond. Gone were the magic critters I loved. Those "loch Ness" type creatures who dwelled at the bottom of that Pond so vast and deep. The gnomes or Magic Fairies did not move with us...for there may not have been room in our cars or truck. I was "coming of age" then. I was the girl in "Labyrinth", that girl who was no longer a child and yet, still not a woman. I should have tried to express my feelings on paper. I am not sure why I did not. Too much "Reality" I suppose. That and the fact that I wanted the move. I saw it as an extreme adventure. I saw it as choosing my future instead of being taken somewhere I did not want to go. So many things were changing. I would attend a new school in the Fall no matter whether we moved or not. My world would either shrink or grow no matter what choice my parents made. The reality of it was not there yet...so I was just going with the flow. My magic Tree was gone. No private places on the new place we rented. Oh, there was the Barn and a Machine Shed, but we were not allowed to go into those. There was no magic tree at the new place. Box elder bugs ruled the few trees that were in our yard. I spent as much time in my room as I could, but there was still no magic tree to call my very own. No make believe world. I tried to stay in it, but the changes were just too many and came too quickly. We at last all 3 had our own separate rooms. This seemed like a Magic all of it's own. I had my own closet....deep and dark. The wallpaper was old, but I did not mind that, I knew I could cover that up with pictures from Magazines of my favorite Heart Throbs of the day. I knew that I wanted to grow up. I wanted to become a woman. I wanted to have my own way sometimes. I was alone after school. That would have become a wonderful time to Dream again had I not had to take on the Responsibility of fixing Supper for the Crew. My parents were going to both be away for that bewitching hour after school, that spooky time when Goblins hid behind every door. No longer were those critters my Happy Friends, now they were evil and haunting. I was then forced into a Reality from which I could never return again to that innocent Dreamy world of childhood. Would I only have had someone to tell me things would be ok....yes my mother told me that....so did my Grandmother. THEY were not the ones who had to face the Monster Teachers who liked to pick on the new child/girl who had a powerful Missouri Drawl. She must be stupid to talk like that. No one ever said this to me, but I felt it. I felt unwelcome. I felt out of place. I felt the regular pain of growing up, doubled by the trauma of the move. Whether a good move or not, it was a horrible experience to me. My brothers seemed to fit right in. They made friends quickly and off they went. Jim had his cars to work on. I always wanted to learn but did not ask. Girls don't do that sort of thing. Well at least that was what I thought, thus I never asked to learn, just stood by and watched in awe as Jim worked on his prize vehicle. I would ask him many questions one after the other. About what he was doing and why. I do not remember what kind of car he started out with, but I would guess it was some sort of a dodge or plymouth. I just remember when he managed to buy the Super Bee a bit later on after we lived in Fenton a while. It was an awesome sound when he drove that big engine car into our yard. My Dad bought a new car, to, right from the Showroom. This was unprecedented to us....a downright Miracle.... Things were looking up. We not only had a newish truck, but now a brand new Dodge Charger.....this happened a bit after we moved, in 1969. Mom was teaching. Dad had a good paying job at the Implement north of where we lived. The drive was a bit further, but the pay and the folks he worked with were very nice to him and to us. When Dad came driving that car on to our rented acreage, I actually got goose bumps! Mom seemed to love her work. She would stay after school and chat with the other Teachers about how the day had gone, having a cigarette or two and a soda pop. (I never approved of smoking then or ever, I knew it was a disgusting, nasty habit, even at a young age.) I got to have a pop sometimes when I would decide to wait to ride home with her instead of riding the Bus route home. The bus route would get me home much later than going with mom did. Now looking back, I can see that I should have gone home and instead of eating snacks and such, spent that first hour or so home without anything to do writing or even reading. By the time I got home though, I was always exhausted and only wanted to "veg" out for a while. My friendly snacks were always there. No thinking, no writing, no anything except unwinding. I would look for snacks when I got home on the Bus too, but the house would be dark and cold then. And Mom was there starting supper, so I was put to work sooner. The demands began to get more and more as we had homework piled on us. I found that my academics were way behind those of my classmates. My workload doubled if not more. Of course I could have gotten a lot of it done in Study hall if I had not spent the time in there chatting with girlfriends or looking at the cute boys....like most of the girls did. Growing up meant going out, getting married, and for some possibly going on to College to "find a man". I have never felt that urge to be better than or get better grades than others. I was too used to failure I think. I wonder if any of my friends truly went to College just to get a good Education. Would that I had asked them. Would that my horizon be expanded beyond the humdrum of daily school work. I found a haven at school however. The Library. The Librarian was a wonderful woman and I was saddened when she died not too long after we moved there. It made me morose for a while. When school was over for the day, I hated coming home into that house all alone. I would usually be responsible for cooking supper too. No time for what I wanted to do....I was a Dreamer who was not allowed to Dream. It was not practical, did not get you anywhere. I often wonder how things might have been different had I found that one Mentor. That one grown up who could nurture my talents without judgment. I do see now as I update this writing that I had options that I did not take. I took the easy way, not the challenging one. I gave up on myself and my abilities. Daily Life took up most of the time I could have spent following my desires and dreams. (sounds like an excuse to me now) Dreams were only that, something that wasted time. Nothing practical in our "Reality". Sometimes I was afraid to Dream. I was also so tired, stressed, and lonely. Sometimes I wonder if my Mother had her Dreams squashed when she was at about that same age. Now looking back, I saw a look in her eyes in her picture taken with her Dad on or around her 13 to 15th Birthday. She had this scowl on her face, like she wanted to be anywhere else but there. I later found out that Mom did not want to celebrate her Birthday by going on a Picnic. She was pouting! My Mother was a Beauty. She had alabaster skin, bright and clear. She was a handsome woman...I would not call her Pretty in the sexual sense, but she was a strong, good looking woman who looked like she had the world at her fingertips. Had she been like me? Had she Dreamed only to lose it as reality grounded her? She didn't totally give up on that Dream though. She returned to school to get her College Degree. True, it was some time later when things they had tried did not have the results that my parents and grandparents wished at the time they took the chance to Dream. The Farm my Dad had Dreamed about his whole Life and which he took a chance to buy was materialized. However, it never produced a decent crop. The calves died. The milk turned bad. Dad had to get another job to help pay the bills. So much for his Dreams. Still when the times got tough, my parents would just get tougher and knuckle down and keep going. They had that old Midwest Pride and sticktoitiveness. They never did give up. Not on each other, nor on having and meeting Dreams. My Mom got a part time job to help pay the bills when we were still quite small. (she ended up with a severe alergic reaction to the strong soap that was used to wash the dishes, and her hands became a real mess for some time while they healed) Then my parents bought a Grocery Store and managed it for a few years till they had to collect overdue Bills from some folks who just could not get things totally together. One step ahead of the Bill Collectors was how most people lived in that part of the state at that time. Mom and Dad were so sympathetic to their customers that they almost lost the business through mis-management) Mom completed her 4 year degree and moved on to find a Teaching Job. The move to Iowa was a big step up with Mom being able to move back close to her parents again (she had missed seeing them so much whild in Missour to begin her Teaching career. I wonder now how much of her Dreams she gave up. I found some writings she did. I think possibly she began writing when we lived in Missouri as her escape. She took several writing classes while going to College too. Her writings were found in a file by my Dad some time later. There are no dates on the writings, so that is all guessing on my part. I always thought my Mother would have loved to have been an Actress. She even did parts in some Community Playhouses after we moved back to Iowa. I know Mom always made lots of jokes and used humor to get through tough times. As all those in my family tend to do. My Dad can cut a joke right along with the best of them. My Grandpa on my Dad's side was a consummate story teller. He would tell things so vivid you were there. I wish we had gotten more of his stories down on paper or recorded before he passed away. My grandma on my Dad's side was the best cook and gardener I have ever known. She could get just about anything she wanted to grow even in that dirt poor Missouri soil. She worked as hard as any person to do so. They were such good grandparents to go to visit. My Grandpa and Grandma on my Mom's side had their own small Grocery store in a tiny little Iowa town. My Grandpa was a very quiet man. Grandma was a strong working woman. They were so quiet. My Mom's folks were harder for me to get to know. They were more to themselves. I think it was because they didn't get to know us really until we were at that awful awkward pre-teenage stage. Grandma would always cook these fancy meals for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I loved that. She would get out the fancy "good" dishes then. We felt like Royalty whenever we would get to go there for those meals. We also got to spend lots of time around the store and the apartments they mangaged, and their house. That house was glorious to me. It had a closed in fancy porch on the south end. I don't know if they added the porch on or just enclosed it, but it had so many windows and French doors in both the front porch and one of the bedrooms. I always loved playing house or actress with those doors, just happy to open them and close them....like a star taking a bow. Of course that was not allowed if I got caught, too dangerous. I might break a window and get hurt! Whenever we would visit them, Mom would either go to the store to help Grandpa, or would be visiting with Grandma and whichever friends would come over to see us. That or we would go out to some friends of Grandma's or Mom's from when she was growing up. This bored us to no end, so I am sure we were not the best behaved children as we could have been. Who wants to sit and listen to gossip? Not me. I did not care who was dating whom or who was being mean to their wives and families. Or who was getting a divorce. Maybe if I had paid more attention,

I could have been a Gossip columnist? Gee another Dream job missed! This story will have to continue another time. I need lunch and possibly a nap! More later on! Meanwhile, I must take a Bow, and Bow out! Hugs One and All! Applause, Applause! from Katie