
She had two grown sons who, for
whatever reasons, weren't very active in her life (and that was definitely
their loss). She didn't have a daughter, and I lost my mother when I was a
young child. I had two babies 11 months apart, and was slightly overwhelmed
with a husband working two jobs to keep them in formula and diapers. Louise didn't drive. I not only drove, but had a car. And as long as she was willing
to help with one of the two occupants in the adjoining car seats, she was
welcome to come everywhere the boys and I went. And she did!
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Louise & Trevor |
In an old station wagon that we jokingly
referred to as the “red bomber”, the four of us would take to the road when I
finished my part time morning job and head to the grocery store, K-Mart, the
park or to Sunnyside Dairy Farm for ice cream and milk. It didn’t matter. We
always planned some small outing requiring very little money, and made the most
of it.
We started each day together, and
it would usually end with the two of us sitting on my front porch watching the
kids catch lightening bugs on summer evenings, or chasing leaves in the fall. There wasn’t a holiday or
family birthday that Aunt Louise and her husband, Bill, didn’t spend with us. And, oh, those backyard barbeques featuring her favorite blue claw crabs! “Talking and
chewing”, she liked to call the hours spent around the table telling stories
and laughing. In later years, she revealed that those table time chatters were
among her favorite memories.
Among my own favorite memories is
that when you walked into Aunt Louise and Uncle Bill’s house, the buffet in the
dining room was loaded with pictures of my two white, blond haired boys. How
odd that must have seemed at first to her own family when they would visit. But
to Aunt Louise, it was the way it should be.
The boys, walked in and out of
her house at their leisure. Whether climbing up to the table for breakfast and letting
Uncle Bill put hot sauce on their eggs, or spreading jelly on cornbread that
Aunt Louise made in a cast iron pan, it was an extension of home to them.
Literally, only a wall separated our two dwellings. From the time they
were infants and could open their eyes and see her loving brown face, the boys were
truly at home in her arms.
Going Shopping! |
Sadly, Louise is gone now. But as a tribute to her for this Mother’s Day, I will tell you her most favorite story involving my son
Kyle .She would tell it to everyone and anyone who would listen. Louise, this one is for you.
When Kyle was four, he was attending a pre-school, that Uncle Bill and Aunt
Louise would take him to while I was working. One February, they were learning
about black history. They were given coloring books with figures such as Martin
Luther King, Eli Whitney and Rosa Parks. He brought the book home to show me.
We were going through it when he pointed out that the teacher told him to use a
brown crayon to color their faces.
“Why did she do that?” he asked
me.
“Well, because they are African-American
and they have darker skin then us, “I explained to him.
“Is Aunt Louise African-American?”
I was kind of waiting for this
discussion, “yes, she and Uncle Bill both are”.
He sat quietly for a minute, and
then asked “are they different from us?”
“I don’t think that they are, do
you?” I asked him.
His hesitation surprised me a
little, then he answered a firm, “No”
But then, he leaned in and lowered
his voice. He seemingly wanted to let me in on a secret that only he knew. “There is one difference” and then
leaned closer to my ear.
“When black people pee, it’s blue”.
“What?” I asked, not quite
grasping what he was saying.
“Whenever, I go to the bathroom
at Aunt Louise’s, I look in the potty and it is blue in there”
When I stopped laughing, I explained
to him that she used a toilet disinfectant that I didn’t use at our house.
He was
happy with that explanation and went over Louise’s to have lunch with Uncle
Bill. In his mind, any doubt of a difference between him and his beloved Aunt
Louise, was gone. And all was right in his world.
Today, the buffet that held the
many pictures of the boys sits in my house with a picture of Louise on it. It’s
in the dining room, where she loved to spend her time “talking and chewing”. Throughout our home, there are pictures of her at the boys' sports awards, Christmas plays, zoo trips, and as they got older, graduations and proms. We are all so ever grateful for the blessing of her presence in our lives.
I miss you, my dear old friend.
Happy Mothers Day.
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