There are things about the next few days that I remember vividly and some things are just a blur.
If you are from the south you know that once someone dies the community immediately begins to fill the house with food. Well meaning folks would come in with their casseroles and chicken and say things that made no sense. I remember one woman that Mama worked with told her that she was young and could marry again. Yes, Mama was only 37, but who in the world tells someone something like that? Besides if your husband’s lover’s husband had just killed your husband, would you even want to think about another man? Other folks would just look at us, some would just sit, and some would go in and out of the house and smoke. It was all a lot to take in.
The day of the viewing or wake at the funeral home was awful. Back then they put the dead folks in the very back room for viewing. It is a tiny little room and really not a good place for the flow of folks to come and go while paying their respects. The new owners of the funeral home, Jack and Joy, put the corpse right out in the big room where everybody can visit and swap old stories comfortably.
(I’ve told Jack and Joy that they had better put my make-up on and have Ricky fix my hair if something should happen to me. I sure don’t want folks looking at me and saying that I look like I’m sleeping! I’m not real sure what exactly is on the other side, but I want it to be a party every day and I want to look my best when I show up!)
Back to the story…Daddy was in the small backroom of the funeral home. When we went in I freaked. Embalming fluid was draining out of the bullet holes in his neck and onto his shirt. Looked like pink blood to me. The funeral director did some high stepping to get it corrected. I had seen dead people before, but I had never touched one before, but I had to touch him. I still remember the feel…stiff…cold…hard. Well, flowers were everywhere. I occupied some of my time there by looking at the cards on the flowers and remember being surprised by some of the people who had sent them. Grief is a strange thing. Everybody deals with it in a different way. I thought thoughts that normally I wouldn’t. I began to grieve for all the things that my Daddy would miss…my graduation, wedding, children, etc. I remember thinking that soon all this would be history and I would be 20 (five years down the road). My heart wouldn’t hurt anymore.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Daddy is Dead
The next few hours seemed like days. About an hour after Daddy left my uncle came and picked up Mama. She said she had to “go to town”. Well, my brother and I knew something was really wrong. I kept playing over and over my conversation with Ronnie in my mind.
When I am upset I clean. I did even back then. I cleaned everything in sight. My brother had an old motorcycle which he mounted and began going as fast as it would go up and down the road in front of our house. Now Daddy never really cared much for me. After all, I was a girl and not much use for anything in his eyes. My little brother was everything to my Daddy. Daddy took him everywhere with him – even to work during the summer. They had a special bond that I didn’t share. I never felt as if I fit in. In hindsight, my brother was probably the reason Daddy stayed at home as long as he did.
Cars began going up and down the road in front of our house slowing to a rolling stop when they approached our driveway. Our great aunt and uncle pulled up in the driveway and asked if Mama was home. When I told her that she had gone to town she looked at my uncle and said, “She doesn’t know.” Well, she was right. I didn’t know the particulars, but I was fifteen and was old enough to know something was very wrong. My brother just kept riding the motorcycle up and down the road, dust billowing behind him. I was afraid that he was going to surely wreck.
After several hours Mama and my uncle pulled up in the yard. Mama got out and I remember asking her “if he was dead”. She simply said yes. By this time the motorcycle had stopped and my thirteen year old brother was sobbing. We just sort of all looked at each other. What were we to do?
We, of course, wanted to know what had happened. It turned out that Ronnie had told Daddy to meet him down a deserted dirt road a few miles from home. They each got out of their vehicles to talk. I’m not sure what was said, but Ronnie emptied a pistol into Daddy’s neck, face and chest. After he killed him, Ronnie went straight to the sheriff’s office and turned himself in.
I was really dirty from the day of piddling around the house and in the yard. I went inside to take a shower. When I went into the bathroom it still smelled like Daddy. I tried to take in the smell of the soap that he had showered with and his aftershave. I was keenly aware that I would never smell his smell again. His towel was still wet. I began to cry.
When I am upset I clean. I did even back then. I cleaned everything in sight. My brother had an old motorcycle which he mounted and began going as fast as it would go up and down the road in front of our house. Now Daddy never really cared much for me. After all, I was a girl and not much use for anything in his eyes. My little brother was everything to my Daddy. Daddy took him everywhere with him – even to work during the summer. They had a special bond that I didn’t share. I never felt as if I fit in. In hindsight, my brother was probably the reason Daddy stayed at home as long as he did.
Cars began going up and down the road in front of our house slowing to a rolling stop when they approached our driveway. Our great aunt and uncle pulled up in the driveway and asked if Mama was home. When I told her that she had gone to town she looked at my uncle and said, “She doesn’t know.” Well, she was right. I didn’t know the particulars, but I was fifteen and was old enough to know something was very wrong. My brother just kept riding the motorcycle up and down the road, dust billowing behind him. I was afraid that he was going to surely wreck.
After several hours Mama and my uncle pulled up in the yard. Mama got out and I remember asking her “if he was dead”. She simply said yes. By this time the motorcycle had stopped and my thirteen year old brother was sobbing. We just sort of all looked at each other. What were we to do?
We, of course, wanted to know what had happened. It turned out that Ronnie had told Daddy to meet him down a deserted dirt road a few miles from home. They each got out of their vehicles to talk. I’m not sure what was said, but Ronnie emptied a pistol into Daddy’s neck, face and chest. After he killed him, Ronnie went straight to the sheriff’s office and turned himself in.
I was really dirty from the day of piddling around the house and in the yard. I went inside to take a shower. When I went into the bathroom it still smelled like Daddy. I tried to take in the smell of the soap that he had showered with and his aftershave. I was keenly aware that I would never smell his smell again. His towel was still wet. I began to cry.
Friends - The Term Used Loosely
Daddy had a friend named, Ronnie. He and Ronnie became seemingly very good friends. He would visit them on a regular basis, as in about every night. We later learned that he would supply that family with new refrigerators, cars, whatever they might need. I remember once the two families actually went out one Saturday night to an auction that was several miles from our town.
Several days after Daddy had bought a new car, he didn’t come home one night. Odd…Well, come to find out he and his friend’s wife had spent the night together somewhere in a motel in a nearby town. I don’t know if it happened that night or another night, but she became pregnant with what I am told is my Daddy’s daughter. Of course, we or maybe I should say I didn’t know all of this at the time it was happening, but he brought this baby to our house when it was just a few months old. I remember taking her to my room and playing with her on my bed. She had dark hair and was a pretty little thing. I didn’t know then that that was the only time I would lay eyes on what they say is my little sister.
Well, Daddy started spending the night in the camper outside our house. He was a violent man and would slap Mama around all the time. I tried to stay in my room when I felt a storm brewing between them. At the time, the TV show Dark Shadows was very popular and I loved to watch it after school. Dark Shadows was a soap opera about werewolves and vampires and such. In my mind, Daddy was a lot like the folks on that soap opera. I thought that he might be possessed or something. It was as if he became a different person when the sun went down. During the day, to the public, he was kind and seemingly a very nice person; however, when the sun went down and he came home, you could see hatred and meanness in his face and especially his eyes. At this particular time, it seemed that he was meaner than ever especially to Mama. He did some very horrible things to her that I won’t even document as it would very much embarrass her if she ever found out anyone besides us knew about them. Just let me say that I saw things children should not see.
Ronnie, Daddy’s “friend” (with friends like that you don’t need enemies) called our house one hot June evening (it was June 18, 1973 actually). I had been outside all day and ran in when I heard the phone ringing. I answered it and Ronnie asked me if I knew where Daddy was. I told him that he had not gotten home from work yet. He said and I am paraphrasing, that I was old enough to know what had been going on that he felt that he was going to have to hurt Daddy. Well, I really thought that he was just upset and mad and would never do anything drastic. He asked me to have Daddy give him a call. When Daddy got home I did as I was asked to do. Daddy came inside and took a bath and ate supper before making the call. During supper Mama said something that made him mad so he slapped her right out of her chair at the kitchen table. I made my way to my room as soon as I could to get out of the way.
I remember I was reading Gone With the Wind and was sitting in the floor of my room when I heard Daddy talking to Ronnie on the phone and then heard the car door close outside. I don’t know what it was, but something told me to get up and look out the window. I got on my knees on my bed and watched my Daddy back out the driveway and down the little dirt road in front of our house for the very last time.
Several days after Daddy had bought a new car, he didn’t come home one night. Odd…Well, come to find out he and his friend’s wife had spent the night together somewhere in a motel in a nearby town. I don’t know if it happened that night or another night, but she became pregnant with what I am told is my Daddy’s daughter. Of course, we or maybe I should say I didn’t know all of this at the time it was happening, but he brought this baby to our house when it was just a few months old. I remember taking her to my room and playing with her on my bed. She had dark hair and was a pretty little thing. I didn’t know then that that was the only time I would lay eyes on what they say is my little sister.
Well, Daddy started spending the night in the camper outside our house. He was a violent man and would slap Mama around all the time. I tried to stay in my room when I felt a storm brewing between them. At the time, the TV show Dark Shadows was very popular and I loved to watch it after school. Dark Shadows was a soap opera about werewolves and vampires and such. In my mind, Daddy was a lot like the folks on that soap opera. I thought that he might be possessed or something. It was as if he became a different person when the sun went down. During the day, to the public, he was kind and seemingly a very nice person; however, when the sun went down and he came home, you could see hatred and meanness in his face and especially his eyes. At this particular time, it seemed that he was meaner than ever especially to Mama. He did some very horrible things to her that I won’t even document as it would very much embarrass her if she ever found out anyone besides us knew about them. Just let me say that I saw things children should not see.
Ronnie, Daddy’s “friend” (with friends like that you don’t need enemies) called our house one hot June evening (it was June 18, 1973 actually). I had been outside all day and ran in when I heard the phone ringing. I answered it and Ronnie asked me if I knew where Daddy was. I told him that he had not gotten home from work yet. He said and I am paraphrasing, that I was old enough to know what had been going on that he felt that he was going to have to hurt Daddy. Well, I really thought that he was just upset and mad and would never do anything drastic. He asked me to have Daddy give him a call. When Daddy got home I did as I was asked to do. Daddy came inside and took a bath and ate supper before making the call. During supper Mama said something that made him mad so he slapped her right out of her chair at the kitchen table. I made my way to my room as soon as I could to get out of the way.
I remember I was reading Gone With the Wind and was sitting in the floor of my room when I heard Daddy talking to Ronnie on the phone and then heard the car door close outside. I don’t know what it was, but something told me to get up and look out the window. I got on my knees on my bed and watched my Daddy back out the driveway and down the little dirt road in front of our house for the very last time.
In the beginning.....
I was born in a small rural town in Georgia. My Father worked in a sawmill and Mama, at the time of my birth, didn't work at all. Meager would be a more than fair statement about how they lived. In fact, for several years they actually shared a house with my aunt and uncle. Things were tough. My Daddy and his brother eventually owned a log cutting business together. That was sometime in the sixties and things did begin to turn around for them. Mama and Daddy actually built a house in the mid to late sixties. It was a nice ranch style house built by Ross Reese, a local builder of the time in the small rural town. It had a modern kitchen, a den, living room, dining room, three bedrooms and two baths. Nice by the standards of the day in rural Georgia. I remember Daddy buying a very nice and new Oldsmobile 98. It was green and had all the latest bells and whistles….electric windows and seats, stero, everything! We were finally doing more than getting by.
Our little town was and still is wrapped all around the local high school football team. We’ve often laughed and said that any house in the whole county could be robbed on Friday night as everyone, including the local police and sheriff deputies were all at the ballgames. The town was (I can’t speak for now as I’ve been gone so long) so very much divided into the haves and the have-nots. Even though we had technically risen a little above the have-not crowd, we were still not considered among the haves. You had to be born into that crowd. I even remember a school mate coming home with me one day and stating that her Mama said that we were poor and that she had never known anyone poor before. Listen, I had been to their house and ours was newer and better furnished than theirs!
My Daddy was one of seven or eight children. His father had been in the sawmill business and needed all of his sons to help him as soon as they could. Most of them didn’t get very far in school. It seemed that his whole family had a love hate relationship with one another. They fought, and I mean literally, all the time. One was always mad with the other one about something. Then, if that wasn’t bad enough, they would gang up on someone outside the family and fight too. I know that at least one of the brothers served some time for such. Well, all that, continued to lead to a bad reputation for the whole family around town.
Then it all started…
Our little town was and still is wrapped all around the local high school football team. We’ve often laughed and said that any house in the whole county could be robbed on Friday night as everyone, including the local police and sheriff deputies were all at the ballgames. The town was (I can’t speak for now as I’ve been gone so long) so very much divided into the haves and the have-nots. Even though we had technically risen a little above the have-not crowd, we were still not considered among the haves. You had to be born into that crowd. I even remember a school mate coming home with me one day and stating that her Mama said that we were poor and that she had never known anyone poor before. Listen, I had been to their house and ours was newer and better furnished than theirs!
My Daddy was one of seven or eight children. His father had been in the sawmill business and needed all of his sons to help him as soon as they could. Most of them didn’t get very far in school. It seemed that his whole family had a love hate relationship with one another. They fought, and I mean literally, all the time. One was always mad with the other one about something. Then, if that wasn’t bad enough, they would gang up on someone outside the family and fight too. I know that at least one of the brothers served some time for such. Well, all that, continued to lead to a bad reputation for the whole family around town.
Then it all started…
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
What's Mama Got to do With it???
I woke up this morning and low and behold there was Mama looking back at me in the mirror! When did she creep into my body and take over? Her eyes were there showing age in the corners and since when did her hands become mine? Alas....much to my horror, I'm not in my thirties or even forties any more. What's a Diva to do?
I've been giving this a lot of thought as of late. In fact, I even purchased a book entitled How Not to Look Old. Yep, who in the world would have thought that I needed help! The book was really pretty good. It told me how to put on my makeup, what to wear and what not wear, etc. However, it didn't tell me how not to feel thirty. I still feel thirty, but since I have a thirty year old daughter, I'm pretty sure that I'm not thirty anymore.
Lots of things happened to me in my forties. Once my children were grown, I ran away from home to a much larger town where I didn't know a soul, I helped start two companies, got married again (I said I'd never do that.), retired, married off my daughter, became a grandmother, bought a house and lost my companion dog of 16 1/2 years and a special friend. Should I wonder where the gray hair came from?
Just when I thought things were calming down I made a miss-step and broke every bone in my ankle! That was not fun. I'm still recovering from that little walk.
So...it is time to evaluate.....Yeah!!!! I'm still alive!!!! I'm a survivor!!!! There is so very much to tell about my life. I think this medium will allow me to reflect upon all that has happened and will maybe help someone out there along the way. If you aren't too bored, please tune in for the rest of the story......
I've been giving this a lot of thought as of late. In fact, I even purchased a book entitled How Not to Look Old. Yep, who in the world would have thought that I needed help! The book was really pretty good. It told me how to put on my makeup, what to wear and what not wear, etc. However, it didn't tell me how not to feel thirty. I still feel thirty, but since I have a thirty year old daughter, I'm pretty sure that I'm not thirty anymore.
Lots of things happened to me in my forties. Once my children were grown, I ran away from home to a much larger town where I didn't know a soul, I helped start two companies, got married again (I said I'd never do that.), retired, married off my daughter, became a grandmother, bought a house and lost my companion dog of 16 1/2 years and a special friend. Should I wonder where the gray hair came from?
Just when I thought things were calming down I made a miss-step and broke every bone in my ankle! That was not fun. I'm still recovering from that little walk.
So...it is time to evaluate.....Yeah!!!! I'm still alive!!!! I'm a survivor!!!! There is so very much to tell about my life. I think this medium will allow me to reflect upon all that has happened and will maybe help someone out there along the way. If you aren't too bored, please tune in for the rest of the story......
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