mrscatinthehat
Seussical
I went to relax with the newspaper a bit ago and laughed whole heartedly about the girl who made her prom dress out of duct tape (a whole new concept).
Then I came to the obits. I always look to see if it is someone I know or a relative of someone I know so that I can do the proper thing and extend my sympathies.
Tonight I came across a name from my childhood. As soon as I saw the name I had a brief flash of memories and decided I had to investigate if it was the person that had came to my mind.
As a child there was a woman that I saw walking across the street from me. I looked at my dad and asked who it was. As a child I knew everyone on our block and they all knew me (it was one of those kind of neighborhoods) so I was confused as to who the person was walking across the street. She had long dark hair done in pigtails down her back and she bobbed from side to side as she walked. When she had set eyes on me she waved. That was when I had asked my dad who she was. He told me it was J. I knew the name because I had received cards from this person on valentines and christmas. I didn't know that it was a grown up because the writing was more child like than my own. So of course my next question was where she came from. He told me that she was visiting her parents and pointed to their house and that she lived in the "county home". Of course as a young child I did not know what that meant. So I just smiled and waved back. I got cards from her for several years until we moved out of town. I had always been set down and made to send cards back. I had no idea that I had been corresponding with someone with a mental illness. When I had gotten older I had asked dad about her. He didn't know what was "wrong" with her just that she had gotten too difficult for her parents to care for.
I have not thought about her in many years. Then I see the name tonight in the paper. Of course I could not remember what her parents names were so I got out an old city directory ( I have them for genealogy) and checked out their name and it was the same as the people that had lived across the street from me as a kid. I looked at the age of the person who had passed away and could not believe that she was 74. I don't remember that the person that waved at me looked older than my dad. She seemed young even to my child mind.
I sit here on the verge of tears for someone I barely knew but have a fond memory of because of those cards she sent. I sit here thinking that was my first encounter of mental illness and didn't even know it. It was also my first encounter where parents had to seek an alternative for their child. And obviously it didn't bother my dad as he encouraged the acquaintance. Which since my dad never met the difficult children (he died before I married this husband) I know he would have been supportive of things unlike so many others in my family.
I hope I can leave work for a bit tommorow so I can go to the visitation. I just want to pay my respects to her siblings (that which I never knew). Strange how someone that touched my life so long ago and had been relagated to the back of my memory can bring such strong feelings.
reflective,
beth
Then I came to the obits. I always look to see if it is someone I know or a relative of someone I know so that I can do the proper thing and extend my sympathies.
Tonight I came across a name from my childhood. As soon as I saw the name I had a brief flash of memories and decided I had to investigate if it was the person that had came to my mind.
As a child there was a woman that I saw walking across the street from me. I looked at my dad and asked who it was. As a child I knew everyone on our block and they all knew me (it was one of those kind of neighborhoods) so I was confused as to who the person was walking across the street. She had long dark hair done in pigtails down her back and she bobbed from side to side as she walked. When she had set eyes on me she waved. That was when I had asked my dad who she was. He told me it was J. I knew the name because I had received cards from this person on valentines and christmas. I didn't know that it was a grown up because the writing was more child like than my own. So of course my next question was where she came from. He told me that she was visiting her parents and pointed to their house and that she lived in the "county home". Of course as a young child I did not know what that meant. So I just smiled and waved back. I got cards from her for several years until we moved out of town. I had always been set down and made to send cards back. I had no idea that I had been corresponding with someone with a mental illness. When I had gotten older I had asked dad about her. He didn't know what was "wrong" with her just that she had gotten too difficult for her parents to care for.
I have not thought about her in many years. Then I see the name tonight in the paper. Of course I could not remember what her parents names were so I got out an old city directory ( I have them for genealogy) and checked out their name and it was the same as the people that had lived across the street from me as a kid. I looked at the age of the person who had passed away and could not believe that she was 74. I don't remember that the person that waved at me looked older than my dad. She seemed young even to my child mind.
I sit here on the verge of tears for someone I barely knew but have a fond memory of because of those cards she sent. I sit here thinking that was my first encounter of mental illness and didn't even know it. It was also my first encounter where parents had to seek an alternative for their child. And obviously it didn't bother my dad as he encouraged the acquaintance. Which since my dad never met the difficult children (he died before I married this husband) I know he would have been supportive of things unlike so many others in my family.
I hope I can leave work for a bit tommorow so I can go to the visitation. I just want to pay my respects to her siblings (that which I never knew). Strange how someone that touched my life so long ago and had been relagated to the back of my memory can bring such strong feelings.
reflective,
beth