My Ride Home April 28, 2014

          

On my way home from work yesterday a lesson my mom taught me many years ago came rushing over my thoughts.  I drive about two miles each day to and from work.  Part of the way is a main street with offices and stores.  The rest of the way is through several neighborhoods, both old and new. 

I was driving through a neighborhood of newer homes when I noticed one in particular.  It was a home maybe two years old.  There were three cars in the driveway with one being up on blocks.  There were two bicycles in the yard.  One of the bikes was laying on top of a rose bush.  I saw a at least a dozen pieces of trash strewn on the lawn.  The lawn had not been cut for quite a while, the bushes were all untrimmed, and a branch from a tree was laying across the walk.  The walkway to the house was lined with rose bushes.  The bushes were overgrown and the roses that had once bloomed were hanging dead and faded.  The side fence was broken down allowing me to see five adults sitting in the backyard.  

I didn't really think much about that house until I had driven a few more blocks.  The neighborhood I was in then was an older one.  My attention was drawn to a little boy standing in front of one of the houses.  That little house was clean.  The grass was manicured.  The bushes were trimmed.  There was not one scrap in that yard.  

The little boy stood by his mother with his hands tucked behind his back.  His mom was trimming a rose bush, one of five that lined the little fence. She had thrown what she'd trimmed to the side of the little boy.  I was almost past the house when I caught a glimpse of something in the little boys hands.  He was holding a rose.  I could tell by the way the bloom was hanging it was either dead or broken.   I imagine he had claimed it from the pile of trimmings and was saving it to surprise his mother when she finished her work.

This scene took me back to when I was just a small girl.  I was in the grocery store with my mom in the little town where I grew up.  We were just getting up to the counter to pay when I noticed the well stocked area of candy bars and treats just where we stood in line.  I pulled at my mother's skirt and asked if I might have a candy bar.  She pointed in the basket.  She was buying bologna, cheese, milk, bread, and detergent.  "Which thing would you want me to put back so you might have that candy bar?" she asked.  Then she added, "If we buy the candy bar how will I be able to make daddy his favorite bologna and cheese sandwich for dinner and you know there is laundry on the porch waiting to be washed."            
                                            
I was thinking to myself if I ate the candy I wouldn't care about dinner and I certainly didn't mind if the laundry wasn't washed.  I just thought that to myself, I didn't say it out  loud.  Mom went on to say, "Some shopping days are fun and some are just hard, today we need what is in the basket.  If I needed to choose between the cheese and the soap I would take the soap.  We may not have a lot but what we have is clean!  Now if you want I will put just the cheese back and you can get the candy bar."  Well I know how my dad liked cheese on his bologna sandwich so I made the grown up decision to keep the cheese. 

I guess when I compared  the big new messy house and the tidy little old house I was just sure that little boy would get the same lesson I got from my mom  from his someday if he hadn't gotten it already.  I guess sometimes cheese and broken roses are just really important!

Book Entry 186: 1987 Robin and the Gymnasium Pole

          Girls go through some major life changes in Jr. High and High School.  I know I did.  I remember the first time I was allowed to wear lipstick.  I remember my first pair of nylons, and I don't mean panty hose, I mean nylons with garters!  I remember wearing brush rollers in my hair every night.  They were so uncomfortable I stuck pieces of toilet paper between my head and the rollers just so I could sleep.  I remember how important looking as pretty as we could was so important to all of us.
          When Robin was thirteen, and in seventh grade, she decided to take a shortcut to the opposite side of school by running through the gymnasium.  I don't remember if she was alone or with friends.  I do remember the lights were off inside, and although Robin knew the layout of the room she managed to run face first into one of the support beams in the gym.

 I got a call from the school that Robin had been hurt.  Mrs. Jaqueth told me she was taking Robin to our doctor's office which was only a few blocks away.

Heart racing I was off to meet Mrs. Jaqueth and Robin at the doctor's office.  Dr. Bigelow showed me Robin had a huge egg shaped bump on her forehead and eyebrow. She had a deep gash splitting her left eyebrow down the middle.  When he showed it to me, Robin was looking too.  Her eyebrow was divided in a way that it was now bi-level!  Dr. Bigelow gave her a shot for the pain.  Next he gave her a shot of something that actually filled the dent so it was even with the swelling.  He took out his suture tray and started preparing to stitch.  (The picture shown is not Robin.  It is a cut much like hers except this one is horizontal and Robin's was vertical.)

Dr. Bigelow and I both had a hearty laugh when Robin mustered up the courage to look him straight in the eye and say, “Could you please try to get my eyebrow sewed together straight?”  The doctor assured Robin he would use his smallest needle and tiniest thread.  He told her when a few months had passed she wouldn't be able to see it.

It was the third week of  October.  When we got home all the kids ran to see Robin.  They all wanted to be sure she was OK but they were all curious to see her injury too.  They giggled and complimented her on the doctors good work.  They were all relieved their sister would be alright..  Of course, once Adam knew she was wasn't going to die he blurted out, “Hey, good going…you're ready for Halloween!”