I’ve been called a lot of things and most of them I deserve or have proudly earned. Stubborn. Headstrong. Driven. Demanding. Kind. Intelligent. Different. Interesting.
A friend told me that when someone calls another person interesting it means there aren’t really any words that fit but they don’t want to say something bad about the person so they just throw people into that interesting bag. I felt insulted. Those who called me interesting just hadn’t got to know how stubborn and demanding I can be.
Add impatient to the list.
My poor mother. God rest her soul, I never put her through anything like that again, and with good reason. I got spanked all the way home by her and then when my dad got home I got a good swat from him too even though he accepted my defense of how brilliant my solution was.
It was a beautiful day. It was still warm fall. It was one of those days that still feels like summer. I asked mom if we could go for a walk in the woods. It didn’t occur to me that someone would have to carry my sister, and that someone would be a very tired, overworked woman.
I was 5 1/2 years old. Theresa was an infant of 5 months, Brenda and Greg were at school and mom had laid down for a nap. Theresa was sleeping peacefully and I was asked to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake her as mom was really tired and needed a nap and yes, I understood. She always asked me if I understood because that would mean anything I did other than that was intentional. I’m an adult now and I know that.
Another thing that occurs to me as an adult was that the class of kids born in 1959 was very, very small, possibly due to a lot of atomic testing in Nevada while women were pregnant. They say. Calves and other animals were born with deformities, kids too, the lucky ones just didn’t make it. I would have gone to kindergarten but there wasn’t a class available that year that my parents could send me to. A half day of school – back then, that’s how they arranged classes – would have been impossible with us living in the country and mom with part-time transportation as she and dad had to share our baby-blue Dodge Dart Station Wagon.
This was on our 40 acre farm, complete with barn, goat shed, fields and rock piles, fenced in areas previously used for the sheep, a nice yard with a swing set that mostly worked, apple trees to climb, long driveway with raspberry bushes on either side. I wanted to take a walk in the forest but mom wanted a nap. I couldn’t see why both couldn’t happen. Dad had taken us kids (and at times me alone) on several walks into the woods. I knew all the plants I should never touch. I knew I could eat some berries but only if dad said they were ok and never ever eat them by myself because some are poisonous and they look just like the ones we could eat. Never eat wild mushrooms. Never go past the stump of a tree in the clearing that Greg was afraid of because he thought it looked like a bear but it was pretty clear to me it was a stump of a tree, I could see the wood. (Greg didn’t have glasses yet) Dad always told us, if for some reason, we were out there all alone, we should never go past the stump because if we got lost he would know where to find us. That was not quite good enough for me. I had more questions but he explained it to me like this. He told me if I was in the woods I might never be found but it would be easy to see someone in this clearing. Off I went so confident in myself and my own abilities. I could let mom and Theresa sleep and I would come home on time to see Brenda and Greg coming down the driveway from the school bus drop off. At times mom and I had gone to pick them up when it was rainy with the car so I knew how far that bus stop was.
It was probably about 1:30-2 pm. I quietly left the house. I remember going down by the barnyard and cutting through the old lamb pens, being really careful to not get stuck by fencing, and slowly crawling through the wires just as I had been taught. I really loved being out there by myself. It was thrilling to me! I missed having my dad there to answer all my questions but I knew right where I was going. I headed for the clearing. I had so much fun. It was my first time in the woods all by myself. At that time I had no idea what liberating meant but I sure felt it.
There I stood in the clearing, looking at that stump, wanting to go past it just to see what was in the forest beyond. I could see Trilliums with their big leaves in the distance. The forest there did look just like the forest where I had just been. Dad told me that was why there was no reason to go any farther into the forest because it was all pretty much the same. I walked out into the clearing and thought, “Hey that stump does look a little like a bear from here” but I knew it wasn’t a bear. I knew I couldn’t go any farther but I had forgotten how I got there. I turned around with my back to the stump. I thought the way home was right in front of me but I could not be sure. Now what would I do? My stomach was rumbling which meant it was time for Brenda and Greg to be getting home soon. Mom always gave us some sort of snack to hold us until supper. I realized I was lost.
I can’t explain how, but in my mind I saw Brenda in the yard on the gravel drive looking out at the woods. I knew mom was standing next to her. I looked down at the ground and saw some very long, thin branches. I picked them up, held them high as I could hold them, walked on my toes trying to stretch ever higher. I walked with big strides back and forth in the clearing waving my hands from front to back just as if the limbs were walking. I must have done this several times, I grew tired, and I had to sit down in the grassy clearing. This time I faced the stump. I knew when I was walking, Brenda would see them and say, “Trees can’t walk.” Mom would say, “That’s Debbie.” As I was seated on the grassy area I saw my mom come through the trees and I got up so happy to see her and exclaimed, “I knew you would find me! I’m so happy to see you!”
Well, that is exactly what happened in the yard that day, and exactly what Brenda said to mom and exactly what she said to Brenda. I told mom that is why I did it because I knew Brenda would notice it and say that. She still spanked me all the way home with clenched teeth yelling, “Don’t you ever do that again!” She took my arm with her left hand, dragging me up the hill through the thorny bushes, past the old sheep pens, spanking me with her right hand the entire way. I said, “The easy way is that way” looking over toward the way she came to get me, but she yelled keep moving.
My dad took me in the living room, alone, right after supper. In support of my mother, the obvious fright I had given her, and his love for her, he listened to my side of the story, then he said, “Yes, that was smart, but I have to teach you to never do that to your mother again. No means no.” Over his knee I went with one big swat, I got sent to bed. No TV, no book, just bed. That was punishment.
The next day Brenda told me I had scared all of them. She retracted her statement when she was a teen, and since I was 5 years younger, I annoyed her trying to copy every single thing she did. She grew so annoyed with me that she told me she wasn’t scared at all that day, she secretly hoped I would never be found. I knew she was making it up. Then she told me when I fell out of the car after the Tasty Freeze, she wasn’t crying because she was worried about the blood and scrapes, she was actually crying tears of joy. Then I knew she was full of it and dismissed it all. Teens. I sure miss her.