Lessons Learned as a Small Town Chick

Every Vote Counts

Election day in my hometown meant a late night home for Daddy.  He would head down to the county courthouse after the polls had closed to wait for votes to be hand counted and winners to be announced.  As a city councilman Daddy knew the importance of service to his community.  And in a small community where you personally knew your constituents, he tried to represent folks fairly.

 

Political powerhouses would do well today to do the same, to listen to those who place them in leadership and to remember that they are not there to wield power, but instead to protect our democracy and serve the people.  Political pundits can hash and rehash the debates of the day.  But it is the politicians that act and serve their constituents honorably that will lead our country. 

 

Lesson Learned:  Freedom cannot be bought with dollars or back room deals.  It is bought with the words of our Constitution and the blood of our American soldiers. 

Steps to Dreams

The Carnegie Library in town was a favorite place.  Climbing the broad concrete steps flanked by brick banisters meant opening the doors to adventure.  Because my family didn’t travel often, I learned about the world from the books I found on the shelves of the library.  The characters in the books became my personal tour guides that taught me about a world outside of my small town.  The stories nourished dreams of places and friends that would be in my future.  And when my life was sometimes dreary like the time when my mother had a long hospitalization, the books gave me hope of happier times.   

 

Lesson Learned:  Even when life doesn’t seem to be going as you planned, read on.  You’ve yet to write and read your last chapter. 

Forever Gone

I cannot let today go by without paying tribute to my mother.  She passed away one year ago today at eighty-three years of age.  It isn’t until someone is gone forever, that you slowly come to the realization that any frustrations, large or small, that you had with that person were not worth the time you spent on them. 

 

If Mother were here today I wouldn’t mind her ramblings, or her worries about every detail of her life.  To be spoiled by her with my favorite meal, a backrub, or a listening ear as an audience to my life are no longer options.  I miss her.  She was a strong person, stronger than I ever gave her credit. 

 

“Happy first birthday in heaven, Mother.”

 

Lesson learned:  Appreciate your friends and family today.  Tomorrow won't always be there.  

Helping the Blind to See

My parents believed in helping their neighbor.  Neighbor could be defined as the family next door, the nursing home across town, or a need presented by the church. 

 

There was a blind couple that my mother would visit on the north edge of town.  They were elderly and to the best of my knowledge had no children to help them.  Since I never had a babysitter, I always got to have a front seat experience to Mother’s visits with them.  

 

Walking into their home, laden down with food my mother had prepared, I was wide-eyed.  After all, these were the BLIND PEOPLE.  Everyone in town knew them.  Their TV was always blaring, just to the right of the front door, I’m sure it was ongoing company for them.  But the most fascinating thing to me was the web of rope that criss-crosssed across their ceiling.  These folks, to survive and live independently in their home, maneuvered by reaching up and following the ropes from room to room.  The floor beneath the webbed pattern was clear of clutter, which allowed them to move relatively quickly about the home.  Except for the cleared paths, the house was messy.  After all, they couldn’t see the mess. 

 

Once we arrived, I was assigned to sit on the sofa, watching television while Mother put away the food we brought and prepared their dinner plates.  While in the kitchen she’d  clean the kitchen counters and check the refrigerator for spoiled food. 

 

After some time, Mother would be finished and come out to the living room to retrieve me.  Before we’d say our final farewell, I’d often be asked to sing a song for them to brighten their day.  Then we were off to our own home.  A home that was tidy and neat with no web, no lingering odors of ‘oldness.’ 

 

Lesson Learned:  Don’t turn a blind eye to the needs of those you encounter.   If you look closely, you’ll see and recognize the needs. 

Finagling Your Way

 

 My Daddy was a homebuilder by day and a wanna be cowboy on the weekends.   As an amateur roper who roped with his buddies every Sunday afternoon, he dearly wanted me to be a barrel racer.  That was not an option as far as I was concerned.  I enjoyed riding my chestnut horse, Star, but racing around barrels at breakneck speed was more danger than I wanted to participate in! 

 

The local Round-Up Club sponsored a contest every summer for Rodeo Queen and Daddy encouraged me to enter.  The qualifications were simple…sell the most raffle tickets for a saddle and you’d be crowned Rodeo Queen for the year.  Beauty and brains were not the issue in this contest.  However, a smile and careful thought helped sell more tickets than a scowl! 

 

As the contest deadline neared I was tired of traveling to nearby cattle sales and other venues to peddle tickets.  I did learn to be more outgoing as I approached total strangers in the richly scented sale barns, asking them to help me become queen by purchasing one of my tickets. 

 

After what seemed like endless weeks of selling tickets the end was finally in sight.  The night before the contest winner would be announced Daddy came home and said, “Well, I know what we need to do if we want to.”  An official in the Round-Up Club had tipped Daddy off to the dollar amount needed to pass my main competitor in sales.  If Daddy would shell out the money (and at that time he had it to shell) I could be the queen.  The conversation was short-lived.  Of course we wouldn’t do that, it wouldn’t be fair, it would just be us finagling our way, as if it was our right.  And that wasn’t the way my family did things. 

 

The following evening I was proud to be introduced as the runner up, as the Rodeo Princess, and have my grand ride around the arena.  I was even prouder of my parents and how they kept their standard true. 

 

Lesson Learned:  As you ride around the arena of life make sure you can be proud of what you’ve earned. 

Party Shoes

There is one birthday party I attended at a grade school age that will always be remembered.  The friend to be honored was a girl from my church  Her mother sent out lovely invitations for the birthday party and I couldn’t wait to go to the party.  We shopped carefully for a gift and wrapped it up with colorful paper and a stick-on bow.  This was a time in America when you dressed up for parties, especially little girl birthday parties.  So I put on a freshly ironed pretty dress with a full skirt and my Sunday church shoes. 

 

When Mother dropped me off at the party there were several other little girls there, some from church and others from the school the birthday girl attended.  The games we played were fun.  But by the time we were ready to gather around the Formica kitchen table and watch her blow out her candles I’d found out the news that following the birthday party there was going to be a birthday sleepover for her ‘special’ friends.  Evidently some friends were staying while others went on home. 

My heart sunk.  I wasn’t a special friend?  What had I done to miss the cut of the sleepover?  The cake tasted like sawdust, the chatter no longer interesting.  The parting thanks for the gift meant little to me as I walked out to Mother’s car with my leaden feet.  However unintentional the slight had been, it had crushed my spirit. 

 

Lesson Learned:  The best ‘present’ is awareness in how your actions affect those in your circle of friends.  Put on their party shoes to see if you are treating others kindly. 

The Clock is Ticking

Facing your own mortality was a product of living in a small town.  I well remember sitting in funeral services.  My parents would take me with them, Daddy in a suit and tie, Mother in a dark dress.  Funerals were as much a part of our life as weddings, Sunday services, and family gatherings.  I'd often doze off during the message being given by the minister at the funeral.  But when it was time to 'make the walk' to the front of the church to have a final viewing of the loved one who had passed on I was always ready to go.  It fascinated me to stretch on tiptoe to look into the luxuriously draped casket so see the person lying there so neatly and primly dressed. 

We all have an end to our days but in our current society we try to avoid death at all costs and certainly don’t take our children to funeral services.  Allowing death to be a part of my community while growing up caused me to understand at a young age that life is measured, and one doesn’t know the length of that measure.   

Lesson Learned:  Life will end, how will I write my story?

Embarrasing Moments

I'll never forget one of my big moments to shine.  Mother had insisted that I take a year of organ lessons with the piano teacher in town.  Mrs. Neal lived just a block from our house so on the afternoons of our weekly lessons I'd walk down the sidewalk to her home.  What a novel idea--walking somewhere.  Another benefit of small town life!  Mrs. Neal had a porch swing on her wide front porch.  As you drove or walked past her house you'd always see the children of the town sittting, waiting for their turn to go in for a lesson.  Well, for that one year, I learned all about the organ and how to operate the foot pedals and dual keyboard.  And, since Mother's goal was to have me play for church services she was thrilled when the pastor invited me to play a "special" number for service one night. 

The piano and organ flanked the platform of our church and you had to go up about three steps to get to where the organ was situated.  The pastor introduced my piece and I still remember proudly walking up those steps and situating my sheet music on the organ.  There was a lamp that hung over the organ and it was perfect for illuminating the music to be played. 

I began playing my piece, things were going perfectly.  I was truly making Mother proud.  Then I had to turn the page.  The problem was that when I did turn the page it caught on the lamp and caused it to tumble.  To prevent the lamp from crashing to the floor I reached out with both hands to grab it and my elbows landed on the keyboard.  The sound was horrific, the lamp was saved, the congregation laughed like crazy, and then I had to play the final page of music.   I was horrified and my cheeks burned as I finished playing and went back to my pew.   I never wanted to see those people again.  Unfortunately I had to go back and face them over and over and over again. 

Have I had subsequent embarrasing moments over the years?  You bet!  I've had too many to count and much worse situations to deal with.  Thankfully, the crashing light and dissonant chords taught me early in life to keep my chin up and move on. 

Lesson Learned:  Life can come crashing and crushing at any time.  How you catch the light and play the last page is what propels you forward. 

 

 

 

 

 

Family Christmas

Reflecting on Christmas this year, I'm reminded of Christmas as a child.  How, even though I knew there was no Santa (since my parents never promoted the idea) I still hoped in the back of my mind that he really was REAL.  I well remember sticking the fluffy foil Christmas tree branches into the 'trunk' of the tree.  And I loved to shuffle across the carpet in my white knee-hi socks to touch the foil tree so I could get shocked and see sparks. 

Christmas was a small event for us with just my parents and sister at the table.  Mother always prepared chicken and dressing for our dinner and had pumpkin pie for dessert.  We'd open our few gifts and then enjoy the day together, relaxing, playing with toys. 

Lesson Learned:  Simpler is better...take time for each other...things can be added and replaced but time can only be spent once. 

 

Fads

Fads--they never go away, do they?  Currently everyone you meet has a scarf tied in some creative manner around their neck.  At my age, that is a GOOD thing!  But, let's face it.  Scarves will soon give way to the next big thing.  I specifically remember a couple of fads that caused me to become demanding and insist on a trip to the dimestore.  The first was the Thing toy.  Does anyone else remember this?  It was made of fake fur, came in different colors and you slipped you hand into a holder that it was attached to, then you would shake the 'Thing" and lastly, groom and style its fur with a hairbrush.  Mine was a bright turquoise.  I'm sure at some point Mother helped it out of its misery and sent it to trashcan heaven. 

The other I recall insisting on purchasing was a CPO jacket.  Does anyone know what CPO stands for?  Anyway, by the time I convinced Mother to go downtown with me to buy one they were pretty picked over.  The only jacket left in my size was brown and tan plaid.  I wore it proudly!   I just searched online and found they still sell the CPO jacket and you can even buy vintage versions.  Hmmm, maybe one of those vintage ones belonged to me once upon a time! 

Lesson learned:  Fashions change, 'things' come and go, enjoy the trends but remember to stay true to yourself.