7 Feb 2016. Palm Beach Gardens, FL
A Field Mouse and a Stuck-Up Teenager
Since Lauren and Robert have come stay with us, I have put a lot of extra effort into consolidating (where possible) and throwing out (when feeling overwhelmed) my collection of papers, books, and files. Ive been trying to get control over the bulk of history that has been squirrel away in different corners of the house. Of course, there are hundreds of pictures of me as a baby. But, better than that, I have come across some very old photos from as far back as Edina, Minnesota. There were stories that I'd written in grade school and papers that mom had kept -- that came to me after she died.
There are certificates and awards. There are lots and lots of pictures I'd forgotten about. A few them I have scanned and put online in some of my blogs. The vast majority of them are very fuzzy and faded but bring back very vivid, sharp memories.
One of my favorites from among my elementary school work is a short story that I wrote, probably in third grade. It is called A Pleasant Field Mouse. In it, the mouse decides to prepare a picnic. There are details about the kinds of sandwiches she is planning to make. At the end of the story is a small picture of the invitation that she sent out. It invites all of the nice people to come, but warms that all "bad" people are to stay away.
The drawing covers the upper half of a 24" x 12" sheet of manila construction paper. The text was printed on the kind of lined paper specifically formatted for children to learn to print. (You remember the kind, it had solid blue lines running horizontally across, interspersed with dotted pink lines so that you could tell how high the lowercase "n" and "s" and "a" letters were to be printed.) The written story was them cut out and pasted below the illustration.
Given the fragile nature of such papers, I was surprised that it hadn't crumbled away by now. The thing is about 50 years old.
And then just this week, Aunt Janny returned to me a letter that I had sent to Grandma Burton over 40 years ago. It's written on a very small note card and asks about how Grandpa Burton is doing. I tell her how much I am looking forward to seeing her during vacation next summer. There are some inane remarks about things that are going on in our home and then the main reason for the letter.
In a post script I ask her to please be sure and do those things that mom had asked her to do.
I suppose it was my attempt to try and help mom in someway. Somehow I sensed that she he was worried about something that was happening to Grandma Burton. Knowing grandma, she probably didn't appreciate the hint, or even catch the humor of a situation in which her granddaughter would think that she could change her grandmother's behavior.
My handwriting is small and cramped, filled with curly cues. It appears as prim and self-righteous as I was during my high school years.
Actually, to be truthful, I have been self-righteous about most things for most of my life.
I do not remember doing it, but I do remember my mother complaining that I would tell her how to react to my brothers and sisters when they were disobedient. She had collected a number of books that talked about how to be a more effective parent. I picked them up and found that they contained dozens and dozens of stories about situations involving parents and children. Because they were stories, they stayed in my memory. Because the situations were realistic, I was able to identify them when they occurred at home. I cannot imagine how irritating that must've been for mom. I eventually learned one of the most important precepts that the books have could taught: how to keep my mouth shut.
Even when I remembered not to say something, I did store what I saw and heard and I know that it affected how I interacted with my children.
Just sitting here now, my memory is flooded times when I tried my best to keep the "bad" people away. I joke about the fact that my children's "permanent records" probably contain notes about how to deal with their mother--who was a hindrance to the child's education. I would frequently go and get them out of school to go to the park or get ice cream.
The teachers didn't appreciate the disruption of their daily schedules. The office secretaries told me that my children needed to be in school so they could learn everything they would need to know. I countered with the fact that they were getting straight A's and so they probably already knew just about everything that their teachers were teaching them.
Growing up, I learned from dad that once I had decided what I wanted to happen that I needed to follow through and make it happen.
I know that mom was worried, when I married Brent, that I had pushed him into proposing to me. We hadn't known each other very long and she knew that once I had decided something, I always believed that I was right--and that I would push to achieve my goal.
Psychologists classified me as a "type A" personality: good at business and getting things done, often at the cost of those around me. And when someone threatened my children or my family, that tendency went into overdrive.
Megan had a very hard time taking standardized test. Every time she scored very low and sometimes even got zeros. (Today she would've been diagnosed as having severe test anxiety.) After going through three years of that (1st through 3th grade), I told the guidance counselor and principal at her elementary school that there was no value in making her continue to take those kinds of tests.
Even after all that, Megan came home one day crying because she had had to take a standardized test and had not been able to answer any of the questions. I called the school and I talked to her teacher. They decided that instead of taking the tests, that she could just go and sit in the library for the three or four hours of testing time. I told them that that was ridiculous; I would come and get her.
I told Megan that if her teacher told her she had to take another timed test or if they tried to make her go and sit in the library, that she was to have the office call me and I would come in and "punch them in the nose."
Sure enough, a few months later, the teacher told Megan that she had to take a standardized test with the rest of her class. She stood up to her teacher for the first time, and told her that she did not have to take any more of those tests. She insisted that her teacher take her to the office so that she could call me because I was going to punch her in the nose.
They called me, and I came down, and took Megan with me to spend the afternoon.
That evening Megan was very sad and quiet. I sat down next to her and asked her why. She answered that I had not kept my promise. When they called me and I came to get her, I didn't punch anybody in the nose. I tried to explain that because the teacher had done what I wanted that I did not need to hit her. Meg looked at me with big eyes and said "You promised. You PROMISED that you would punch her in the nose."
Ever since that time, whenever Meg, La or Nate (or even Brent) has felt threatened by someone they feel they cannot control, I reminded them that all they need to do is call me and I will come and "punch him in the nose." When Nathan had nightmares about monsters, I would remind him every night that as soon as he saw a monster I would be there right next to him and together we would "punch him in the nose." It represented a warning to all of the "bad" people that they were to stay away from those that I love. I hope it has also helped my family to know that I am always willing to fight for them—to stand with them against those people, events and things that are difficult.
There were, oh, so many times when I failed to protect my children from the bad things around them. There were, oh, so many times that I was not well enough to stand beside them as I promised. There were, oh, so many times when I could not follow through and make things go as they should have.
Over the years, my "type A" personality has softened so that now I think of myself as a "type W or X." Things that were vitally important to me 20 or 30 years ago are not important to me at all now. I know that there will be lots of time to achieve goals I've had to put aside for now. I am learning to work more on principles and actions that will define my eternity. I hope I am becoming more like my little field mouse who welcomed the "good" with food and friendship and simply turned her back on the "bad."
P.S. Meg, La, Nate, Brent: If you need me, I will always try my best to come to you and punch in the nose anyone or anything that dares to threaten you--because I love you always
