Music
Our home, when I was born, was the second floor of Melba and Harold Hyde’s house near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Though the Hydes were my parents’ landlords, they became like family to us, so we often shared meals in their kitchen. After dinner, Harold would move to his old upright piano, set his can of beer on top, and begin to entertain. He didn’t use print music; he just curled his fingers on the keyboard and played the music living in his head. When I grew old enough to stand, I would get as close as I could, gripping the edge of the piano bench to keep my balance, and watch his fingers dance across the keys. I was mesmerized by the beautiful sounds he created. We moved to our own house when I was two, leaving the piano behind, but while...
Wrap-around
I was in third grade when my mother sewed a pretty blue wrap-around skirt for me, a simple style that encircled my body a couple times and tied at the waist with a long belt. It was my favorite color and I couldn’t wait to wear it, even though it was January and the skirt was made of thin cotton fabric. Mother suggested I save it for spring when the weather was warmer, but I was too impatient. In the sixties, little girls always wore dresses or skirts to school, so winters were a challenge, especially at recess. I wore tall socks and boots but depended on a knee-length wool coat to keep my thighs warm. The day I wore the skirt was especially cold. My thick wool socks, sweater, and coat did little to protect the mid-section of my body so I ran while my class...
Skirt
On the days I play piano at the retirement home I dress a little nicer than my usual jeans. I do it out of respect, knowing it’s how my parents would dress were they still living. This particular day, I wore a skirt that was navy blue with white polka dots, along with a yellow sweater, a classy outfit I ordered from Lands End a couple years ago. At the conclusion of the program, one elderly woman surprised me by saying, “That skirt is so pretty! I have one just like it!” Seriously? I know I’m old at sixty but am I really dressing like an eighty-year-old? “Don’t you just love wearing it?” she asked. Not any more, I thought. Not any more.
Granny
My friend, Sarah, who works as a nanny for two adorable girls, ages three and five, also coaches a girls’ volleyball team. Her two charges were with her at a recent game, one that I happened to see. When I walked into the gym, Lucy and Nora gave me excited hugs, causing the nearby referee to ask, “Are these your grandkids?” I am a grandmother, but I wasn’t aware that I looked like one. Until then. The question, one I have never before been asked, shocked me. And I was shocked that I was shocked. And then I was shocked that I was shocked that I was shocked…. You get the idea. This is my sixtieth year and I joke about being old, but I wasn’t aware that I really look old. I pushed aside my shock, gave the man an answer, and tried to...
Orphan
My parents both died on October 18, though eight years apart. Mother was buried in Raleigh, where I spent most of my young life. Daddy, though, had lived with me in Tennessee for his last two years, so I shipped his body to North Carolina to be buried next to his beloved. I was busy when I got to Raleigh, meeting with folks at the funeral home and at the cemetery to make final arrangements. A woman at the cemetery office said, “So, we’re burying your mother.” “No,” I said. “You already have my mother. My father is joining her.” I had already discussed our situation with these people over the phone and was surprised by the error. “Oh,” she said with great sympathy. “You’re an orphan!” What? I...
Wistful
The colors in the sky amaze me as daytime fades to the west. Shades of pink and gray are a beautiful contrast to the slowly darkening blue. Streaks of sunlight reach through holes in the clouds, looking like spotlights. What hidden wonders are they trying to uncover before the sun slips below the horizon? Everything I see is a wonder and I’m taking it all in during my evening walk. Not only the colors of the sky, but also the raucous mockingbird warning me away from her nest, the grass, flowers, and trees of my neighborhood, and friends in homes I pass. The sky is definitely the center of my attention, though; it makes me wistful. The thought of being in it, floating among the clouds, that heavenly place of beauty and peace, is appealing. An...
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