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June 27, 2011

Little Sister, Sally
The oldest kid in the family always thinks that the youngest has it made. The youngest kid thinks all they get are hand-me-downs. And here's the news:  both are right.

Sally was the youngest in our family. Remember that we were farm kids and this was a childhood of the fifties and sixties in rural Ohio. Our amusement was limited to invented games, swings from trees, hammocks, a special night at Dairy Queen during the summer, or a visit to neighbor's pond to swim. Sally took everything about imagination one step further. First I have to say that of the three of us, she is the smartest and most athletic (loose interpretation, meaning agile, coordinated).  Of yes, I forgot fearless. Sally was the freckled faced kid with hair every which way, always exploring and ... think of the character Ramona and you'll have a good idea. She wandered the farm in search of baby animals and then carted them in her doll buggy, she always ALWAYS had a book with her and enjoyed reading in remote places...the linen closet and under my parent's bed to name a couple. When she was in first or second grade (can't remember) she began keeping a notebook with her where she wrote outrageously funny poems and limmericks. No one knows whatever happened to that thing, but she could have made  a fortune later on. Then while Richie and I were riding bikes all over she convinced Dad she wanted a unicycle. In those days, you wouldn't buy such a thing so Dad made it for her. She grasped the skill in no time! I tried and tried and so did Richie...to no avail.

I don't know what it would be like to always following behind older siblings but I often wished I could have made Dad laugh the way she could or had Mom's extra attention. All this only proves that no matter where you are on the Totem Pole of Life...someone else's position looks better.
Posted by Nancy Rossman on June 27, 2011 at 8:22 PM in The Baby in the Family | Permalink | Comments (1)


June 20, 2011

The Love of a Brother
My little brother, Richie, has always been my pal. He got his name as to distinguish himself from our father, also a Richard. And as much as he dislikes "Richie" these days ...it's still how I think of him. As the oldest child I was often put in charge of Richie. Take him by the hand when we shopped, to the school bus, to his class the first day of school, etc. He never liked to be away from home and he's still that way today. Only in the last few years has his wife been able to pry him into a car or on a airplane for vacations. Earlier this year she even talked him into a month (MONTH) long vacation in Florida. He said he loved it, may do it again next year. Who knew? A guy can change.

Growing up in Ohio in the fifties, Richie and I shared farm chores. While I entertained him with stories and jokes, even singing, he would do all the work. He never minded the long list that Dad gave us. There were't other kids anywhere near us so we were each other's pal and work partner. We made fun out of our chores. Seems like an oxymoron, but imagine no TV (until 1953) and only a few programs on the radio. We made up games and occasionally got into trouble. We covered for each other so often that Dad took to spanking both of us instead of a lengthy interrogation.

As we aged we became each other's confidant and that is still true today. We laugh, cry, discuss. We may not always be on the same page with all beliefs but we respect each other's opinion. I love that he can stand up to me and gently say, "All I'm saying is you might want to consider..." What a diplomat.

Nowadays I watch him with his four grandchildren and have to smile. How affectionate and sweet, and patient he is with them. How lucky those kids are, but how lucky I am to have such a wonderful guy for a brother that I still call Richie.
Posted by Nancy Rossman on June 20, 2011 at 10:10 AM in Brothers | Permalink | Comments (3)


June 13, 2011

Grandma Lilly's Words of Wisdom
There's a reason we call our Nanas "grandmothers" ... as in GRAND. They are the best part of mother. And growing up in the fifties and sixties my grandmother, and others, had a look about them. White-haired, overweight, pearls...think Barbara Bush. Grandma Lilly spoiled me with ice cream from the Good Humor man, even if dinner was an hour away, she bought me the toy Mom said I couldn't have, she read to me every night. Sometimes it was the same book over and over. She never reminded me that we'd already done that story. Grandmothers did all those wonderful things and then delivered us back to our parents. I never considered that what was so grand wouldn't be that way if I lived with her 24/7.

Grandma Lilly gave me even more than that. It was attention. She talked to me, asked me questions about school, my friends, and later my boyfriends. Her interest in me made me want to go to her for advice. She'd make me a cup of tea, and I'd talk...just talk without coming up with a solution. (Even now whenever I have a big problem the first thing I do is make a cup of tea. Just thinking about her makes everything better).

As a teenager I considered my mother from an alien planet and never wanted to involve her. I consulted Lilly about my boyfriends and subsequent problems. I vividly remember when my first boyfriend, Greg Smith, dumped me for another girl. I cried until my hair hurt.. Lilly wiped my eyes and said, "There's plenty of other tin cans in the dump. Don't you worry." I sure didn't think it was funny then but I remember it now. I've even quoted it to my daughter.

After problems developed in my marriage It was Lilly I turned to for advice. I wanted Tom to be more affectionate and do things with me instead of watching sports on TV all the time. When I asked her what to do she heaved and sighed. "A fella isn't likely to change."

If those two scenes aren't pearls of wisdom, then I don't know what is! 
Posted by Nancy Rossman on June 13, 2011 at 9:27 AM in Grandmothers | Permalink | Comments (2)


June 6, 2011

When Peggy Sue Got Married....
When I turned forty and looked at my mother's life, I often wondered if she regretted her decision  back  in 1940  to break up with Peter and chose my father. I don't mean that I wondered if she loved my dad, but the decision that she made resulted in many tough life adjustments. It had to have been hard. I think I would have been looking over my shoulder going...hmmm.

It is also fair to say that I have had to make tough choices in my life and the BIG one about divorcing my first husband, and father of my only child, was right up there at the top of the list. I berated myself for choosing him in the first place. I should have been smarter, should have taken more time to know him, etc.

In 1986 I went to see the movie When Peggy Sue Got Married  that starred, among many others on the rise, Kathleen Turner and Nicolas Cage. I was already a huge Kathleen fan and assumed I was going to see a lighthearted film that would just be fun. WHOA.  This light-hearted plot got heavy and emotional, a reminder why Peggy Sue made the decision she did (LOVE) and the GOOD that came out of it. In this case, Peggy Sue got a daughter that she loved/loves...and that daughter would not be the same if she had a married a different guy.

It's weird that this film impacted me so much but I have seen it many times since and it always has the same effect. My mother never saw the film but she once said that if she had married Peter, instead of my dad, that she wouldn't have us. (of course she would have had other children that she would have loved, I'm sure but I didn't go there)

I have learned a lot from my mother about accepting the good that comes from my decisions and tried to NOT be the kind that looks over her shoulder about how things could be different and better. A change in attitude has certainly made the road much easier to travel. 
Posted by Nancy Rossman on June 6, 2011 at 9:11 AM in Regret | Permalink | Comments (2)


 
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