Reminiscing and Settling In

I’m back in the town of my childhood and it feels so strange.  Did I really go to school here for six years?  So much is the same…so much has changed.  I think what saddens me is the lack of memories.  It seems I should have memories of a place I lived for six years.  High school should have left an indelible imprint on me.  But as I look back I remember how I didn’t fit in… ever.  I was the clutz…the blabbermouth…the socially inept dweeb, I think.  I do have fond memories of debate tournaments…of being allowed to “shine” by doing what I couldn’t do in the every day.  But where are the memories of every day?  I have a few.  I remember Mr. Stewart’s freshman science class because the students tormented him so much.  I remember being the only freshman to take typing in Mr. Roebuck’s class.  I got permission because I played piano…what a gift typing was.  I remember Mrs. McKee and Hilda Taylor’s English classes…I loved English.  I remember sitting in a history class one day when they announced over the loudspeaker that America was withdrawing from the Vietnam conflict.  I remember working really hard to prepare for debates in Mr. Tullier's speech classes...and sometimes in his home.  And I remember a lot of anger and angst and sharp feelings my senior year when blacks and whites clashed over who should be the new head football coach…when a somewhat unknown, but beautiful and sweet African-American girl was named homecoming queen and everyone was so angry.  I never understood that kind of anger...but I was also never a minority.   I lived too far out in the country to be involved in any after school activities.  But it’s funny…my brother was able to be involved in football, so maybe that was just a family decision. 

I wasn’t in charge of my life in high school like so many kids seem to be today…and like several appeared back then.  And now it makes me a little sad.  Because I’m getting the chance now to get to know my classmates in ways that I didn’t back then, and I’m discovering them to be a really great group of people.  What is it about high school that has us fighting and clawing for recognition…what is it that separates us from knowing each other?  How is it that we think it’s okay to choose to like or not like someone?  I’m grateful that I’ve never been a person to just choose to not like someone…to choose to not associate with someone for any reason.  I’ve been blessed throughout life to have known some special people that many others would have rejected.  And maybe that’s the gift high school gave me.  Being on the end of feeling left out and rejected and on the outside made me want to make sure I never made anyone feel that way.  I’m too curious about people…about what makes them tick.  I love to listen to their stories.  I like to read their faces and study their body language.  I love sitting at the airport and staring at strangers and making up stories in my mind based on the actions I get to see.  But now I’m chasing rabbits.  I guess coming home really is strange…I’m glad Ruston is changing.  I’m glad I’ve changed since I was here.  I’m especially glad that classmates have reached out to connect or allow me to connect with them and discover how wonderful and funny and inspirational they are.  This was a good town to grow up in…I wish I’d  known then what I know now.  I would have embraced it more…and embraced the wonderful people of this area.

Mom had a very good day yesterday (especially compared to Monday and Tuesday).  Her spirits were better and she let me beat her at Scrabble last night.  Well…actually…I beat her because she’s drugged (grin).  I can’t wait to share that with my little brother who said she had trounced him at the game.  It was a fun evening for me…I think a little frustrating for her.  She’s not used to losing to one of her children.  She’s had a busy morning with a couple of favorite visitors and her LPN coming by…and now she’s resting peacefully in her bed.  I think the bed is cooler than her recliner…I was glad to see her willing to lie down and rest.  I’ve had a wonderful few minutes talking with my husband…thank you, Skype!  Technology sure makes an event like this more manageable.

It is HOT HOT HOT in Louisiana this week.  Last night at 6:00 the heat index was 120 degrees and the weatherman commented that he didn’t remember ever seeing that before.  I hope we never see it again.  We talked a few minutes this morning about people back in the 1930’s who also experienced some heat like this…without a/c’s.  We decided that they would have been more acclimated for it back then.  But it does lend credence to the fact that life moves slower in the South…it has to!  That’s the only way to survive this kind of stuff.

So that’s my update today.  Nice to be able to keep it on the upside for a change.  The oxygen machine is breathing down the hall…the refrigerator is working to stay cool…the a/c has been running non-stop…the cars are whizzing by.  Life is going on…something that makes preparing for death seem unreal.  My life is on hold right now and everyone around here still seems to be running their routines.  And maybe God is giving me this time for reflecting on the blessing of having grown up in a Christian home, in a Christian community…  surrounded by Christians…so that I’ll focus on His blessings.  My mom is going to soon be with the Savior that I’ve been learning about for 53 years.  She and Daddy lived Jesus in front of me…in their love and ministry to others…in their patience and forgiveness with me and my brothers…in their faithfulness to each other in a world where faithfulness is not in high commodity.  I’ve lived a blessed life…and I’m slowly settling back in to the wonderful community of my childhood.  I am blessed.