Category Archives: oh so e-‘mo

double birthday

Tuesday, May 23, 1939
143rd Day–222 Days to Follow

Mary went to Tempe to take a Geography test.

Gertrude called.

The Mother-Daughter banquet was held. Bill and Inez played a duet.

Kenyon baby came.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Today I share a birthday with Memo’s oldest daughter Mary. She’s in her 90s but still here, would still be driving and teaching if given the opportunity, and I’m trailing behind her at this new number 34.

This year was such a marked contrast from last, when so many friends and family members gathered and blew my mind with their presence. This year, quieter. Shared a celebration with my roommate’s sister, and a house full of family, but not my family. Leaving me feeling loved but ready to make my own life, my own family, traditions waiting to be created with someone new.

There was delicious food, a sparkly birthday cake, cards and gifts, and the all-day gift of rain. Waking and falling asleep to this late spring drizzle has been a present for my parched soul. Maybe something there will start to grow again.

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quiet blog, sad heart

Still wanting to return to this project, but today is not the day. No, today is the day that marks nine long years since the little red-haired boy passed away. Entire lives have begun in that span; the next generation progressing their way through school and friends and general kid-dom. We’ve celebrated graduations and weddings and births, returned together for reunions and holidays and even plain-old Sundays. We carry him around, wishing we could go to him for advice or just a laugh, and I wonder if there will be a rejoining of souls somewhere far ahead and long away, after time and space are through.

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Ball game show

Sunday, February 5, 1939
36th Day–329 Days to Follow

We all went to S.S. and church. Mr. & Mrs. Ronning and Betty Joe came home with us for dinner. We played Bridge afternoon & evening. Mary & Betty Joe went to league.

Billy went on a picnic with Kirchoffs to South Mts.

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Sunday, February 5, 2012

I had to work part of the day, and kept getting asked if I would get to watch the big game. I wasn’t into it this year, especially after being frustrated and offended by the commercials last time. Maybe next year I can suspend feminist outrage and watch the game again. Though, honestly, playing cards all afternoon and evening sounds like a better way to spend the day right now. I did have some heart-tugging moments of missing my family and the way we all would gather at my aunt’s house to watch the game together. Feeling isolated; what else is new?

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The babes

Saturday, February 4, 1939
35th Day–330 Days to Follow

The babes had their music lessons.

Had a big rain, no work for Shorty today. Got some coal from the garage attic. Cold & rainy.

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Saturday, February 4, 2012

I love how she calls her two youngest children “the babes.”

It’s funny to think of my grandfather, a somewhat intimidating — but not at all unloving — man most of the time I knew him, as a young boy, taking music lessons that would someday eventually lead to his meeting my grandmother. We’ve all heard it, and hear it again nearly every time Debussy is heard in a movie soundtrack or in the middle of a store’s muzak station. How the dark-haired girl rounded the corner at church camp to see the red-haired boy gracefully make his way through Clair De Lune. How she had watched this irreverent boy riding in a car with his pastor, unabashedly smoking the whole way to and from camp. And, later, the snap of the photographer’s shutter that would capture the tea-length white lace dressed and grey suited couple laughing over the humble wedding cake the bride herself made, a cost-cutting decision that pained her mother.

How music–something likely thought of as a periphery expense, especially during the downtrodden 30s–and my great-grandparents’ decision to include it in their childrens’ education, ultimately led to everything I know of family.

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Everyone’s catching up

10 doz. eggs brought $3.60

Monday, January 30, 1939
30th Day–335 Days to Follow

M.E. & Mary went to the show, to see “Marie Antoinette.” I washed today. Mary went to register. She came home on the bus. I met her and took the eggs to Leonard.

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Monday, January 30, 2012

Today was super hard, especially knowing I still had a close friend still in Portland. It took everything I had not to get back in the car and drive down for another day. Instead I stayed home, waiting for the phone to ring with a Very Important Call. That call never came. I tried to busy myself with other things, but mostly I just kind of fell into a blue day, especially when the professional organizers came to haul more stuff away. I wished with all my might that I had space to keep so much of this…stuff. I know, that probably makes me a hoarder. It just kills me thinking that someone’s things are headed toward the dumpster/recycling center – especially when the world is overrun with junk already. But I don’t have the time to repurpose things…I was too busy feeling sorry for myself, you know.

Later in the evening J and I watched some of United States of Tara, then both of us went to bed kind of early; another sucky Monday on the books.

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In the quiet

Tuesday, January 24, 1939

24th Day–341 Days to Follow

 

Mrs. Nicholls & Mrs. Drorbaugh came. Mary came home at noon.

I called on Mrs. Heart and Mrs. Grimes.

 

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Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Today was reserved for quiet, though I didn’t explicitly set out for it to be so. I woke early when my roommate came home from Canada, stopping here to drop off the dog and get ready for work. Hearing the lock turn over and the door open always stirs up a lot of anxiety in me, and I can’t ever seem to settle back into sleep until she is gone again, off down the road. But even then, today, I was awake for hours in this altered state of anxious thought before finally resting again, however briefly. So the morning was pretty much shot, and it leaves me thinking that I need to find a better way to handle these mornings.

 

Later we reconnected over sushi up the highway, but she turned in early after a long morning of travel and then work. And I’m sitting in the quiet, not really sure what to do with myself. Tomorrow will be better, or, at least, I have more things planned to occupy my time. But the reality is that this awkward holding pattern is unsustainable, though I can’t even imagine what is next.

I miss the friend stopping by, the taps on my window on Saturday mornings that turned into entire weekend adventures. Mourning relationships I didn’t even have, not like that, anyway. Feeling lonely and stuck and vulnerable and managed… Hoping sleep will help.

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