Wild Women: Well hello again

I love blogs...just because I haven't been posting doesn't mean that you all haven't been reading.  I've been in a slump, due in part to the issues apparent in mom's book.  Part III was the weaving together of many people, many resources, and many stories.  It departs from the chronological telling of mom's story and instead focuses on advocacy. 

But thanks to blog stats that I find hard to be true (9,000+?), I write renewed in my dedication to the blog.  We can do it!!!

As a thank you, I wanted to post a Wild Woman entry sent to me by my friend Daphne who first met my mom when she came to visit us in Taiwan.  To be clear, Mom would have watched and said, "Blech!" to the violence and revenge theme.  But hey, how often do I have the chance to defy my deceased mother?  Plus the footage comes from a Swedish film, "Thriller: A Cruel Picture"; my mother-in-law is Swedish and would also not approve of violence, so it's like an adolescent two-fer!

Look Up, Look Way Up

Photo by Arthur Nelson Trever, 1933 Chicago World's Fair.

A Divorce Followed by Breast Cancer

by

Lois Trever

Janet and her husband decided to divorce after their two years in the Philippines; it was a very painful decision.  A short time after Janet and the children returned, she called to say there was some suspicion of breast cancer.  Not long after that, she asked me to come take care of the children during her hospitalization.

There were lists on the side of the refrigerator telling me how to cope.  As always, Janet had built a large army of true friends who were ready to help.  When Janet came home, folks brought food--one big man had, himself, baked two pies.  The refrigerator and cupboards were well stocked.

It was a very pretty house, rented from a minister.  There were swings in the backward, roller skates, swimming lessons on the calendar.  Both children, especially Sarah, were eager to show me a beautiful cemetery just back of the back yard.  We three walked there several times every day.  Sarah, will of the wisp as she was, would dance and skip ahead around a corner and disappear only to be found in a little while, full length on her back on a tombstone, long blond hair draped over the stone.  Andy was more likely to be riding his two wheeler bike off on an intersecting lane.  I don't know if I am imparting the sweet but eerie circumstances as they affected me.

The time for Janet's breast surgery arrived quickly.  The children went off for a day at a friends house.  I drove to the hospital.  When Janet came back from surgery there came her wonderful friends to be sure she could faintly hear spiritual music.  They came in many numbers, each with something comforting to bring and to do.  I found myself at the door of the room and decided to go out and walk a bit in the fresh air.  As I walked tears broke through, quickly becoming an uncontrollable torrent.  I climbed into the car but then came more tears of helplessness and sorrow.  I remembered I was near the office of Janet's favorite friends Meryl Tullis, a motherly figure in Janet's life. 

Meryl came to the door, invited me in and brought coll water and soda crackers.  I felt her concern and understanding.  As the weakening sobs continued she said, "Lois, look up, look way up."  I did so and realized that my uncontrollable tears had stopped.  There is a magic made up of actual knowledge of anatomy that stops the tears and sadness when we look up, "way up," as Meryl said.  I have often used Meryl's magic to help me.

Before I returned home Janet and I had a few happy times together, including times all four of us walked or rode bicycles in the quiet cemetery, visited by no one but us.

Sarah, Janet, Andy during that terrible/wonderful year.

Odd, my own Good Year shot last month over Daytona.  Guess its in my blood.

Chapter 4: Solstice Baby

My brother Andy and bewildered me.  Still sport those looks.

Moral of this next story- never take a bet against my mom.  In her own words:

Sarah was born three years later, and again an incredible bonding and world vision resulted the night afterward.  I wanted to be able to live in that state of being forever.  She also was induced 3 weeks after my due date.  I wanted her born on June 21, the summer solstice, but the obstetrician induced her the morning of the 20th to better fit his schedule; he said he was sure she would arrive that day.  She was born at five minutes past midnight on the 21st.  After announcing she was a healthy beautiful little girl, he laughed and said, "You'd do anything to win a bet!"

Mementofacts from my baby book:

Announcement in the base newsletter.

Standard military congratulations letter from Sen. George McGovern*.

*In an odd turn of events, George McGovern now lives in my town!  He was walking behind me just the other day.  I thought to stop and turn and thank him for his letter but decided to wait for the next time.

Fair's Fair

It's not been all rosy, folks.  Some people write and are encouraging--it means the world to me, keep it up!  Others who I thought would appreciate the blog haven't really tuned in to the medium.  And some I thought might take the blog wrong way have and are hurt.  What can I say, dynamics are a bitch.  I took a little break, loaded up some Strawberry Fridays to carry me into the spring, then got back to the work at hand. 

And there it was.

My mother writes in her draft prompting a friend to write her chapter, and I quote my mom here: "A story that probably won't make it into the book unless my gutsy daughter Sarah, a lot like you in fact, is even gutsier than I imagine."

Oh, it's there people.  In my most playful font I imagine you say, "The bitch didn't!"  Oh yes, she did.  What follows?  The story of me and my first menses.  How does this fit in with her book?  It maybe doesn't.  But it entirely fits in with this blog.  I've aired her honest laundry, and fair's fair.

I meet your challenge Janet Trever, and will raise you!  Knowing, trusting that the two of us can go there together.

So here is her version, uncensored and unabridged.  Not the way I'd tell it, but again, fair's fair.

When she left for her summer visitation with her Dad's family just before her 12th birthday, she asked me what would happen if her period began during the 3 months; many of her friends' menses had already begun.  At the airport we planned a code system so that no nosey folks at the other end would know what she was telling me.  The code we came up with: "Molly Brown's Living room."

The story could end there, but doesn't.  On her birthday, June 21st, we talked on the phone a while, I went to be early for exams the next day.  She called late at night, woke me out of a sound sleep, and all I could hear was this person babbling about some living room.  I finally woke up enough to understand.  There were no supplies in the house* for her, she needed me to talk to her Dad and take her out to a store to stock up.  I talked to him (his wife, Sarah's step-mother, was out of town at the time) and they got through the experience as best the could.  That phrase is permanently embedded in our brains to this day.

*My one correction.  WE WERE CAMPING!!!  I WAS IN THE WOODS WITH BOYS AND MEN AND MORE BOYS!!!  I made my dad drive to a phone in the middle of nowhere (in North Dakota already, keep in mind) in the middle of the night to pass the code phrase on to my mom so she could explain to my confused father.  I couldn't tell him what was happening, just that I needed a phone. 

In the end you would not believe my luck.  Hours from home, my dad drove to the nearest convenient store.  Ready for the miracle?  My beloved sister just HAPPENED to be at the same store in the middle of the woods and saved me from a death by humiliation in sparing my dad from the purchase and explanation of the bags contents.  Thanks Charlotte, I still owe you!

The walls people, check out the walls.  Also, check definition of TMI.