Now, where was I?

About a month ago I mentioned it wasn't wise for me to write when I was depressed. Then I promised I would get back to work soon. I also begged for more followers. Well, I haven't been depressed all this time. I have been too busy knocking things off the to-do list and playing with my grandchildren to sit down and concentrate long enough to write. I told Debbie this morning I had to spend some time writing today or my head was going to explode. It probably wouldn't actually explode but who wants to risk something like that. It could get messy and Debbie would make me clean it up.

Many of my memories are 'warm and fuzzies' about growing up around a slew of wonderful, yet crazy family members. I wanted to write a story about aunt Cricket's kids because they are a product of the woman herself. She was so much fun to be around and her daughters grew up just like her. She had two daughters, Mary Wayne and Peggy. Three boys rounded out the family. They were, in order of age, Edwin Lee, Milton, and Bruce. Sadly, I don't have too many memories of Ed or Milton because they were so much older than me. I will tell what I know over time but most of what I know comes from a series of letters I received from Mary Wayne. She and Bruce are all that remain of the family and I hope they are both around to attend my funeral 40 or 50 years from now.

I wrote Mary Wayne and asked a few questions about the past so I could get some facts about the early years. Instead of simply replying to my questions she wrote a series of stories which were a delight to read. Warm memories flooded my heart as I read and things I had completely forgotten came back to me in a rush. I don't expect any of you to have that same feeling as I pass these memories on. I do hope you enjoy the tale. It is written from Mary Wayne's perspective and I edited slightly to make the story flow in the proper sequence. I also added information in italics. Otherwise, the words are her own.

Mary Wayne's story:

We moved to River Oaks from Temple a few months after Peggy was born. That would make me two years old. Mother told me that one day I came down the short hallway to the kitchen carrying Peggy on my outstretched arms. Mother was afraid I would drop her and being startled, she screamed. I promptly dropped Peggy on the floor. Mother scared me when she screamed. What else would a two year old do?

We lived nine houses down from aunt Blanche and uncle Leroy and three doors from the city park. Milton and Ed would go to the park and play on the swings. They would swing so high they would go over the top. That always scared me! They weren't afraid though and would do it over and over again. On Friday nights a local company would set up a large screen on one end of the park to show movies. We would take our blankets and sit on the ground watching movies....much cheaper than going to the theater! Occasionally mother would give Peggy and me each a dime to go to the movies at the theater on River Oaks Boulevard. We would walk there and cross that busy road to get there. We paid five cents each for the movie and had a nickel each for a candy bar. Of course I was in charge of Peggy. I guess our parents thought it was safe. (One of my earliest memories was being invited to go on one of these hair-raising trips. I was sure we were going to die crossing the road and couldn't enjoy the movie for fear of the return trip.)

While living in River Oaks mother developed a mild case of polio. She had to be in the hospital so Peggy and I were sent to your house (aunt Blanche and uncle Leroy's) to stay. Being a small child, I didn't know if mother would come home or not but I knew I wasn't going to stay there! After everyone was asleep I slipped out the backdoor and went home. Daddy didn't make me go back.

When I was in the first grade daddy fell off a bridge in Mineral Wells where he was working. He crushed his lower leg. I guess we were on workman's comp or something. It was near Christmas and I overheard mother and daddy saying we weren't going to have Christmas. This was serious stuff to a seven year old! The next day I sat on my teacher's lap crying as I told her what I had heard. As all sweet, caring teachers do, she leaked the news to the fire department. On Christmas Eve, while we were off getting our free tree, men from the fire department came bringing presents for all of us. Mother was so embarrassed but I loved that old cracked face porcelain doll more than the one mother and daddy had bought me! Let me explain. There were only two bedrooms in that old house so when mother and daddy talked at night I could hear everything they said. I think they talked much softer after that.

It's hard to have a lot of memories when you are so young but I do remember a few things mother shared with me. Apparently aunt Blanche helped mother out with things a lot. One story I remember is one mother recalled about going grocery shopping with aunt Blanche helping with the boys. Aunt Blanche was supposed to keep Milton in tow but he proved to be too much for her. At one point he got away from her and ran through the store hollering "high ho Silver". As he ran past the candy counter he grabbed some candy and yelled to the clerk, "Mudder will pay for it". Aunt Blanche was quiet and shy so this horrified and embarrassed her. Milton was a happy, smiling little boy but very mischievous.

Here's another memory told to me about Milton. The city bus ran on our street daily. One day some balloons were floating across our yard just out of Milton's reach. He started chasing them, ran into the street, and was hit by the bus. Mother grabbed him up and ran to the doctor's house at the end of our street. He wasn't hurt all that bad but to be cautious he was confined to bed. That poor bus driver came by our house every day bearing comic books for Milton. We all thought that was wonderful. Later on, some kids were playing "pop the whip" up the hill from us. A young child was popped out into the street. That same bus driver couldn't stop and hit the child, killing him. The bus route was changed after that and no longer came down our street.

Tomorrow I will finish Mary Wayne's story and include a few memories of my own. I just realized the story ended on a sad note. It is a good place to stop though so until then....