You may have been wondering, as did the folks back East in Dancing with Wolves, “Now, why don’t [s]he write?” In my case,
folks, depression. I slept through most of 2014 and when I was awake, I mainly
gazed vaguely out the window or read a book until I fell back asleep. I did a
little knitting on easy-peasy projects, but I haven’t picked up a piece of my
main hobby, cross stitching, since Lucy#1 died, because I have been unable to
make my mind focus well enough to follow a pattern. I bottomed out in December
2014, clawed my way out of the dark, and have only been back to pretty much
full-time normal function for a month or three. I started a more detailed knitting project, but I still haven’t tried to cross
stitch. That may be the acid test, and maybe I can give it a shot next weekend.
At any rate, even while I’ve been one big emotional
malfunction, I haven’t wanted to give up this family story – I’ve just been
unable to write it. So, here we go, back to the life and times of the Two Lucys
and our family.
Lucy#1 left me seven boxes of photographs. Some are great
big packing boxes, and I haven’t opened those yet, but I took three smaller
boxes to Austin a couple weekends ago so Colene and I could divide them up.
What a hoot!! It happens that many of the photos in the
three boxes were scenery from various trips Lucy#1 took over the years, and
while we said, “oh, pretty” a lot, those weren’t keepers for us. The photos we
examined closely and divided between us were the ones with the people we knew. Those
people photos are our gold!
Here’s a keeper:
I’m fairly certain this charming family portrait was taken
in the early ‘70s, in our kitchen in Austin. It looks to me that I’m trying not
to cry in this photo, which suggests my Uncle Gilbert took it. I’m crying or
about to cry in nearly every teenager picture he took of me! I hated having my
picture taken, would always try to get out of it, and he would eventually (by
shame or by physical force) make me be in the photo. However dorky I was, though,
man-oh-man, check out my cute family! Isn’t Colene adorable? (But why is she
wearing long sleeves while the rest of us are in summer attire? I wish we had
narratives to go along with these gems.) Leroy looks the same as always,
handsome with a crew cut. And look at Lucy#1!!!! What a doll! It’s fun to
remember her being so young and happy!
I sat at that very table every afternoon to do my homework. (Yes,
I was the super-geeky teen who got the homework out of the way before
suppertime, so I could have my evenings free. If only I were so good about
getting things done now! Ha!) I did my homework at the kitchen table so I could
talk Lucy#1’s ears off while I worked on the school stuff and she cooked supper.
She was my sounding board, my spell-checker, and my problem-solving assistant
all rolled into one. She taught me what turned out to be one of the most valuable
lessons for life, while helping me with my algebra and geometry proofs, simply
by saying, “Read that problem to me again.” She later confessed she had no idea
how to do the proofs, but she knew that if she could keep me focused on the
problem by reading it to her over and over, I would figure it out on my own.
She was correct, with both the high-school math problems and the approach to
life’s problems. I’ve learned a lot of things and solved a lot of problems in
my life by reading and/or tackling the thing again and again until – presto! --
success.
I learned a lot and laughed a lot that kitchen table. Lucy#1
listened while I fought my way through algebra and geometry and taught me to
figure them out (and grow to love them), especially the proofs. She listened to
my tales of teenage woes and joys and taught me how to walk on. She told me tales
of the extended family and of the people she worked with, their woes and joys,
how they were walking on, and her take on their situations. Lucy#1 knew what I
needed to know and hear and learn, and she taught me as well as she was able,
all at that kitchen table.
