Keepsakes

I can't think of anything to rant about. At the moment. The D just woke up, so that's likely to change any second now. No, actually, he's been pretty sweet lately. Same for Kiddo. In fact, now that I think about it, something must be wrong. Or maybe my psychotic break the other night scared some sense into them. After all, they'd be up Shit Creek without me. Or as Mother would've said, in a World of Ita. That's World of Hurt, in Japanese.

I was born there, you know. Daddy was stationed there for three years and that's when I came along. Can you imagine my poor mother flying back that far with a bratty/bossy/pissy seven year old bitch-in-the-making, a rambunctious five year old boy and a cherubic year old baby girl? On a propeller plane. By herself. The military men flew together, sans wives and kids. They probably played poker and smoked cigars on their great big C-130s. Probably even had a bowling alley and a bar. I'll have to ask The D about his flight home from Japan.

Mother bought lots of pretty things there. And since I was born there, they all belong to me. Because I said so. Except the smoked brass lamps bitch-from-hell former sister wheedled out of Mother. Oh, well. I unselfishly let Deb have the Cabbage Patch doll collection. So relieved she wanted them. Mother was somewhat obsessed with them. Funny, huh?

When if I ever get unpacked, I'll have to take some pictures of the beautiful things my Mother left.

Last weekend, Deb was cleaning out some closets at M&D's house and she found a big plastic bin marked "Keepsakes." She couldn't bear to look in it. She brought it to me. Bless her heart. Right after Mother died, we went to pick up some things for The D and Mother's shoes were under the kitchen table. Right were she took them off the last time. I wanted to pitch them but Deb wouldn't even let me move them. I'll have to go get the rest of Mother's personal belongings.

I have to admit, though, I haven't looked in the Keepsakes box even though it's right beside me on the floor in my office. Until now...

...Wow, I think two hours have gone by. There were some very sad things in the box. Heartbreaking. I'm gonna try to forget about that and focus on the sweet things.

I found Mother's high school yearbook. Actually, it's nothing like what we think of as a yearbook. She graduated from St. Benedict's Commercial High School in 1952. Mother was assistant editor of "The Ledger." Funny that I worked on my yearbook staff, too. Hers was a 10 page, mimeographed collection of quotes and memories. No photos. I'll share a few excerpts.

"Her care was never to offend, and every creature was her friend."

Somewhere an Office Manager is waiting for a courteous, efficient bookkeeper in the person of FCS. She is also a good stenographer. Her own correspondence keeps her trim in letter writing. Her pet peeve is speed demons in hot-rods and her favorite sport is baseball. (Homer probably plays.) F has a special touch when it comes to playing Volleyball. She was one of the best players on the team.

The seniors wrote their last will and testament. Here's what Mother wrote:

I, FCS, will to Dolores my love of Shakespeare, and to Connie my love of writing letters.
And here's the coolest thing of all.

OUTSTANDING SENIOR WINS PRIZE!

More than a month of hard work of composing, writing, and rewriting all paid off for one of our seniors, FCS, in the recent one-thousand word essay contest "America Is Everybody's Business," sponsored by the Ladies Auxiliary of the V.F.W. She won the second prize, $25.

She was one of the top-ranking typists. 62 wpm. Wow. When I took typing in high school, my personal best was 19. I'm lots faster now, I think, but I've had a little practice.

Maybe I'm more like her than I thought. And that makes me very, very happy.