Saturday, July 23, 2011

Bambi's Mother Would Understand...

I remember my first day of school. It was in September of 1960. My mother walked me to the bus stop. I was wearing a plaid dress with a starched white collar and a pair of black and white oxfords accented by lacy little socks. I carried a brand new book satchel (God, do they even make such things anymore?) That satchel was burnished and smooth and smelled all leathery with a strap that dug into my tiny six-year-old shoulders that felt as if they were carrying the weight of the world. Inside the satchel was a Blue Horse Tablet with two of those big, fat pencils, a box of 24 Crayola crayons, some Elmer's School Paste, a mini-box of Kleenex, and some milk and lunch money (which totalled 28 cents). I waited for the bus while my mother promised that she would be waiting for me in that very same spot  that afternoon when the bus dropped me off after one of the greatest adventures so far in my short little life. Ah, my first step on a journey of independence.

All went well until lunch time. I couldn't eat. I wondered, what was my mom doing? Did my baby sister, Patti, miss me? Were either one of them thinking about me at that moment? The lunch room was cavernous. Around that room was painted a mural of a particularly parochial pastoral scene. On one wall, through a thicket of green brush strokes,  I saw a deer staring back at me with sad, imploring eyes --  a baby fawn, brown with white spots and spindly legs. All I could think was, "Oh, God help me, somebody shot Bambi's mother!" Immediately, I was no longer in the cafeteria of St. Michael's Elementary School. I was running for the thicket. In my frenzied little mind, a shot rang out. Snow was falling as I called for my mother -- she wasn't there. I started crying, wretched, deep, heavy sobs as my shoulders sagged and heaved. Oh, how I wanted to be in my mother's arms! How badly I needed her! A nun, Sister Bertrand, came to me and asked what was wrong. I could manage only to wheeze and whisper, "Somebody killed Bambi's mother..."

I wouldn't admit then that I was sad or frightened. I just couldn't. After all, I wasn't a baby! Since that day, I always think of Bambi's mother whenever I don't want to deal with what is at hand. It is so much easier to try to shirk the sadness and blame another source. I told everyone I was thinking of Bambi's mother after my grandmother passed away and her house sat empty and lonely for years. I told everyone I was thinking of Bambi's mother when my best friend moved away. Yes, I was thinking of Bambi's mother when my son, Kyle, left home to start a new life in Atlanta, Georgia.

Now, my daughter, Jenny, is getting ready to head out for Shrevesport, Louisiana with her husband, Ken. It is a new adventure for them -- a wonderful opportunity! They will be leaving within a month or two. I wish them well. I wish for them all the happiness in this world. I wish for them success and joy and endless exhilaration. I just want them to know,though, that I will be always be waiting for them at the bus stop. I will be thinking of them. I will let them go with all my hopes and promises and as much love as I can send their way. If I cry just a little when they leave, know...somebody killed Bambi's mother!

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Vacation Time is Over

Oh my gosh, I haven't posted a new blog since Christmas!!! Where does the time go? Actually, I do have an excuse, meager as it may be. You see, a couple of months ago, my computer had a MAJOR stroke -- it suddenly quit working,  an acute and absolute malady at fault. It seems my Motherboard had bitten the proverbial dust and would not be revived. Alas, after weeks in the intensive care unit at our local computer repair shop, another Motherboard was located and deemed an acceptable donor for a transplant. After some delay over a pay-pal account, the operation was successfully performed and my dear old computer picked up almost where it had left off before its collapse. Not to wax Pythonesque, but...there was much rejoicing! (Especially happy I did not have to try to re-load my Rosetta Stone -- I heard that could be a real nighmare!).  

Anyway, my computer was as good as new, but I was not. I had gotten quite lazy in the interim. My blogging discipline was was my Facebook interactions and forum maintenance. I had gotten used to not sitting in front of a monitor and was not wont to go back -- at least not for awhile.  I spent my time enjoying the beautiful weather we were having, visiting with my parents, coming up with new recipes for the Pillsbury Bake-Off (I think I may have a million dollar winner, by the way), doing lunch and shopping with friends, and going to lots of movies. Also, strawberry picking season started here last week, so there is another BIG diversion. I mean, everyone pauses for strawberry picking season, right?

Now, however, as I sit here munching a mouthful of strawberries, juice running down my chin, I am starting to feel like an island in a stream. I think it's time to get back on the boat and float. I took a vacation and now I am ready to pick up where I left off. Oh, if only I could find a new Motherboard to jumpstart myself!