Oh, The Eyes

With the thirty-third birthday over with I really didn't feel any older just didn't like the sound of thirty-three.  Maybe I would tell anyone who asked that I was thirty-four as it sounded better.  Or I could tell everyone I was forty-four and make they think how great I looked for my age.  

I really did not have to think very hard about who sent the roses for my birthday.  Lucky for me that no one questioned where they came from.  I would have to come up with something really good for his birthday the next month. When I met Barney for lunch the next day I thanked him for the roses. He flashed a silly smile and asked how I knew it was him to which I told him he was the only one who ever sent me roses then just gave him a smile back as we headed off for another picnic.

Back when we were together in college, in my not very astute days, I noticed something very interesting about Barney.  He had the most amazing eyes.  If I ignored facial expressions, a laugh or a happy or sad story I could tell how he felt just by looking at his eyes. There were times when I knew to end a story I was rattling on with if a look of sadness appeared or times when I knew not to pursue a question.  It was Shakespeare that said " The Eyes are the window to your soul". Everyone's eyes do it to some extent but Barney much more than most.

There were a lot of times in college when I would talk about my family and he had been through a lot of those trials and tribulations with me that I caught the look of sadness in his eyes.  Immature me assumed that he was feeling bad for me. But if I asked questions about his family there were brief answers and overwhelming sadness in his eyes so I dropped the subject.  All I really knew was that his father had passed away when he was an infant and he had no brothers or sisters.

That day sitting under a tree at the Liberty Memorial that overlooks the city I paid extra attention to his eyes.  When I told the story about how I had told the women at the New Neighbors Coffee that morning that I thought I had died and gone to heaven  moving to Kansas City I could see laughter.  When I started on funny stories about the boys even though he smiled there was an look of sadness.  Maybe it was way past time when I should ask a few questions.

So, I told him that I knew very little about him growing up except that his father had passed away when he was little, he was an Eagle scout, Mr.4.0 student and played football since I had his high school letter.  I had also noticed that in college he never went home on weekends or holidays....why? Also why do you get this sad look in your eyes when I talk about Wes and Wally?  He sat there for quite awhile being very quiet but I wasn't going to give up and change the subject.

Finally he drew a deep breathe and told me that everything was fine until he was eleven.  It had been just he and his Mom but she remarried and his step-father had a boy and a girl about his same age.  The blended family did not turn out to be much like the Brady Bunch.  His stepfather had a boy and a girl close to his age that he got along fairly well with but the stepfather thought a boy should be more interested in football than Boy Scouts. He tried but things just never seemed to please his stepfather. He just withdrew into scouts and school, spent summer at scout camps and then summers at college. Why was I asking?

I told him I was asking because he never talked about his family and I had always wondered.  When I had asked him how his Mom was several months ago he had gotten this look in his eyes that I had seen many times before, said "Fine" and I knew to drop the subject. Had he ever stopped to think that maybe his family situation growing up made him into the magnificent person he had grown to be? There are probably not really any Brady Bunch families or even any Leave it to Beavers in the world.  Every family has their own set of problems and raising children is not easy. You just have to do the best you can.

He asked me if he was so magnificent when he asked me to marry so years ago why I said no. I told him he was still working on the magnificent part since he was only half-way there.  There was Sarah, Northwestern and all the things you wanted to do and I, lacking in any self-confidence, was sacred that I would ruin your life.  So I just let you go get magnificent on your own. Besides you first wanted to pay my way to Stephen, then why didn't I just come live with you and marrying you was the last offer. Not the correct order, sir.

It was quite amazing watching his eyes as I went from funny things to things that he felt bad about.  Barney finally caught me really watching his eyes and said he didn't believe it was really true that I could tell. It is true that you can tell what someone is feeling by their eyes. 

When I was a teenager I started noticing my mother's eyes and could tell if I was in trouble or not before she ever spoke.  Then in college in one of the pre-med classes the professor went into great detail about it.
Your pupils actually dilate in response to light, mental effort, happiness and sexual arousal. They will constrict with fear, lies and anger.  You can't change how our pupils react to a certain situation and unlike our mouths, they can never lie. I have found that I have to know the person fairly well to read them and some people it is really hard to tell.  I can always tell when Wes is telling me a whopper but I could tell by your eyes what you were feeling long before I knew the science behind it. So, what is the deal with the constriction of your pupils when I talk about the boys or ask about your family growing up?

His answer was fear.  He married Lauren because she was adamant about not wanting children. Then due to his not having a father around, then one he didn't do well with he didn't think he could be a good father.  Your stories about the boys always sound so happy and so much fun even when their behavior was not what you might have wanted. I think with you I would have wanted lots of kids.

There were a lot of times Barney could really cause me not to know what to say next. The only thing I could tell him was that your only example of parenting that you start with are your own parents. The best I could do was to keep the good parts of mine and change the bad ones. Hopefully your spouse looks at things the same way but that doesn't always happen. It isn't easy raising children but I can not imagine not having them.

All he could say was how much he loved me to which I replied that I loved him.  Also that if I didn't get going I was going to have a mother-in-law with tiny dots for pupils.


What a day. My mother always said that people needed to forget bad things about their childhood days and move on.  At thirty-three I am beginning to realize that regardless of how hard we try that little child is still inside of us all.

Roses and Daisies

There were a lot of times that summer when I wished that I did not get myself entangled in so many activities.  Most of my neighbors and friends were stay-at-home Moms who spent their days baking cookies and laying by the pool.  Even though there were days when I wished I could do that I knew it wasn't me.  It is funny as this was the era of the beginning of the Women's Lib movement and that wasn't my thing either.

Having Dennis's Mom, Alpha, visiting for the first several weeks of the summer was a lifesaver.  She was the picture of a real grandmother unlike my Mother.  The boys adored her and she baked lots of cookies, could take care of any situation and was happy being with the boys. She also took the edge off of Dennis's curse filled temper while she was there which made life a little more pleasant.

Wes, our almost nine year old, was at times like living with a whirlwind.
 I take that back as it was always like living in constant commotion.  Maybe all the years of drag racing made him think that everything had to be a top speed.  His bicycle was equipped with a wing and a parachute, thanks to his Dad and homework was always poorly done in the blink of an eye. Once he learned to read a menu he always wanted to order the most expensive thing on the menu which only got worse as he he got older.  Most days seemed to bring a new dramatic situation. My Uncle Tom said one time that I would miss his calling if I did not put him on the stage.

There were some good points in that skinny body as he never met a stranger and had lots of friends all of whom he invited over to his house, he was very talented even at eight years old at designing and drawing race cars and very good at getting injured or sick at all the wrong times. The great thing I can say about him at this age was that he was very good at giving us memorable moments.  One of the best in Kansas City was the time we took Alpha and visited the Truman Library in Independence, Kansas.  We had ignored singing in the visitor book but not Wes. He dashed over and signed, "Wes Tarkington and family" in ink before we could stop him. 

I have written a lot about Wally who was four years younger than Wes. He was the total opposite in personality from his brother which was a good thing as I may not have lived through two that were alike. Wally was rather quiet, one of those children who did not talk much when he was little and then came out with full sentences. The difference in their age made for some problems as Wally wanted hang out with Wes's friends but his brother didn't.  The great thing about the neighborhood in Kansas was that it was filled with all ages of boys and Wally got to tag along part of the time. For all the constant commotion at home both of them were perfect little gentlemen when you took them out in public.  I adored both of them and really would not have changed either one. They got to be more fun with each passing year.

When I had gone back to college at the time that Wes was five and Wally was one I discovered that the only time I had to study was when everyone was asleep. It was usually to bed rather early and then I got up at whatever time I needed to in order to study for a test. Many times I got up at midnight and studied until everyone got up at six or seven. That became a habit which came in very handy for writing newsletters, letters to friends or projects I needed to do. That way I had the day to spend with the boys and in the middle of the night no one needed anything.

When I got into making draperies the only place I had had to lay them out was the family room floor.  So I would get up at some weird hour, put a stack of albums on the stereo and crawl around the floor for the rest of the night.  Not the most idea working condition but it was the best I could come up with until we finished the basement. When everyone got up I would fold them up and go be a Mom for the day.  Most decorators farm all the draperies out to a workroom but not me.  I always had to do things the hard way but it paid off in the long run as I could control when they got done, how they were made plus being half the price of any of the other designers.  Perhaps a bit on the glutton for punishment side.

Barney called early on Monday morning to say "Wow" on how the wallpaper and paint looked that I had finished while he was out of town. Nice to have a happy customer and I told him his mini blinds were in.  He wasn't concerned about them but wanted to meet me for lunch on Thursday.  We had not met for lunch for several weeks and he said lunch at his house while I was working there did not count. It was a pretty busy week as I was taking Alpha and the boys on the New Neighbors tour of the General Motors Assembly plant on Wednesday, had to get the newsletter done by Friday, my column for the Lenexa News done by Wednesday and there was a New Neighbors Board Meeting on Thursday morning. We finally decided I could meet him after the board meeting but I really could not stay long.

There was a bit of irony in going to the GM plant tour.  First it was a bit of deja vu as the Whittier School trip when I was in the second grade had gone there plus Dennis worked for Ford.  He could not imagine why I would go to a GM plant - duh.  But the plant was really awesome.  It was the location of the North American Bomber Production Plant where they manufactured the B-25 Mitchell during World War II. It covers 572 acres with 3,200,00 sq ft. and the tour was fascinating.  Alpha had never seen imagined anything so huge and the boys loved seeing the cars go through the assembly line, especially my car crazy little Wes.
It was a very fun way to spend my birthday.

When we got home there was a beautiful birthday cake sitting on the dining room table, a vase of yellow daisies and a vase of a dozen red roses. Karen and her son had gone on the tour with us and never said anything about my birthday.  As we walked in the door of my house she started laughing and said "Surprise". Karen was surprised at the roses but Carolyn from next door popped in to say they had been delivered that afternoon.  All the card said was "Happy Birthday".  Within a few minutes more neighbors came over and we devoured the cake. It was a great birthday...but


Where did the roses come from?  Either Cathie or Pam, my college friends?  That would be odd as usually a card or a call was all we did if that. Not Mother or Dad as I had already heard from them.  Maybe it was one of my brothers.  

Family Secrets

I have to admit that my little volunteer job at the health department assisting the doctor with girls who had female medical problems was a real culture shock for me.  Some wanted birth control methods but many had had problems I had never heard of and I have to admit to experiencing a "cringe" factor over some of them.  Hopefully I did not show my surprise at some of it.

When Frances, the head of the health department, called and wanted to talk to me about the job I must say I was worried.  Do people get fired from volunteer positions? That was the only thing I could think of for the next few days as I was very good at always thinking the worst.

 I took Alpha to the New Neighbors luncheon.  I actually had never seen her drink anything with alcohol in it but convinced her to have a Bloody Mary since there was always a social hour before the luncheon with a cash bar.  Must say after the drink she really had a great time and enjoyed meeting all the ladies. When we got home it was time for me to go see Frances and pick up a pizza on the way home since neither Alpha nor I felt much like cooking especially after a couple of Bloody Mary's.

Frances wanted to know first how I liked working with the doctor at the clinic.  I explained to her that even though it was a culture shock at times for me since I had learned I grew up pretty sheltered from the real world I really did like it. She then explained that she thought I would be really good at doing some family planning counseling.  There were a lot of questions from her about how I felt about birth control methods and abortion.  This was 1979 and abortion was now legal but was a very controversial subject. One that was not openly talked about very often.

I took a deep breath and told her that I had seriously thought about it from the aspect of trying to get into medical school.  My opinion was that for me I could never have one but realized that there were circumstances for others that warranted having one. That it had nothing to do with religion but more with someone having the emotional stability and family support to have a child. Mother had told me stories in my teenage years when abortion was illegal about girl friends of hers in high school that committed suicide because they had gotten pregnant in the 1930's.  I often wondered if they were made up stories to keep me from being sexually inactive when some of my classmates were getting pregnant and having babies or disappearing to go to what was termed unwed mother's homes. I think I believed they were true and could understand their actions.

Personal experiences shape a lot of our values, beliefs and opinions. When I was in high school a girl who was pregnant was not allowed to attend school but had to drop out. That may have been enough to keep me on the straight and narrow plus the fact that if I had gotten pregnant there was no way I could have told my parents. Then there was the little family secret I did not find out about until after I was married. It was something Mother never talked about and I didn't ask but Dad told me the story.

When the three of us kids were little, Paul 7, me 5 and Ken 3, an ambulance came in the middle of the night and took Mother away.  We were just told that she was sick and everything would be alright. That was a good explanation for us and in a few days she was home. What I found out from Dad later was that she had an illegal abortion from a local doctor who was known to perform a few.  Something went wrong and she had to have thirty pints of blood to save her life.

Dad never said what the reasoning for the abortion was and I did not ask. Not asking Dad why was something I would always regret. I  figured that by the age of twenty-six she had already had four children. There was a baby girl between Paul and I that only lived seven days due to a severe birth defect.  Maybe there was some problem with the pregnancy that would have resulted in the loss of her life or the loss of another child. I will never know the answer to that question but it was my parent's personal decision which it should be.

I had never told anyone that story before.  There is doubt that either of my brothers know but there I was pouring out the entire story as I knew it.  Frances did not look surprised or shocked as I am sure in her career she had heard everything.  It was then instead of firing me from my volunteer job that she offered me a paid part time job as a family planning counselor as she thought I would be excellent at it. Of course I was pleased but with summer and the boys home, Barney's house to finish and the annual two weeks vacation in Warner, Oklahoma I had to decline.

Frances thought for a few minutes and then asked if starting the the fall would be better.  That way I could come into the office when I had time during the summer and sit in on her counseling sessions as a training process. There would also be the chance to observe some of the other aspects of the health department that I had not seen before.  With the timing worked out I whole heartily agreed to the job.  I knew the job would not be easy but I would find out later how really difficult and emotionally draining it was.

The work on Barney's house went well that week. By Friday I had the wallpaper and the painting of the dining room done. That was the easy part of the job.  The draperies were going to be a challenge as I had no place but the family room floor to lay them out. The real problem was that all the hems were going to have to be done by hand since my sewing machine, Mother's 1950's Singer, did not have all the bells and whistles that I really needed. God forbid that I would buy a new machine when this one had served me well since I learned to sew in the sixth grade.

Barney had to go to Denver for business before I finished the wallpaper.  He gave me my rewritten medical school application before he left since it was probably not a good idea to have it laying around.  No need for questions on why he was writing a medical school application for the interior designer.  I told him he could just tell Lauren that he found an ad in the paper that said "Aspiring doctor will decorate your house for fun lunches."  I read the essay and I hardly recognized myself.  Barney said he wrote is as he saw me because I would never describe myself in such nice terms.

We were two weeks into the summer and it was not turning out like I had planned.  I had looked forward to a quiet, laid back summer of hanging out at the pool and taking Wes and Wally to lots of fun places.  I felt they needed one after the commotion of moving and living in a motel like last year. But due to my inability to say NO when asked to do something and the outside forces around me it was turning into a very busy and interesting few months.

Can't Is Not A Word

When I originally started this blog a couple of years ago I named it I Should Have Known because if I had somehow known a lot of things perhaps I would have made better choices, worked harder at being really successful at one thing instead of mediocre at several and been seen as a more normal person - whatever that is.  Life has certainly been a roller coaster ride with all the ups and downs but it was and still is a heck of a lot of fun. 

Maybe from my little stories my readers do not get the fact that I am incredibly shy.  Even though I jump into new things telling myself "I can do that" there was relatively little self confidence that I could do anything.  One of my high school friends recently said they had always thought I was very laid back.  If they only knew that I was really hiding the fact that I thought of myself as not smart, not popular, not pretty or cute or able to do anything well.  Maybe I just smiled a lot and tried to be nice to others so they would like me.  

It is interesting in that a lot of the personality traits or our inner perception of ourselves does not change much as we grow up.  It seemed like when I was in dancing class in grade school and junior high I was always the largest one in the class and by fourteen I was wearing a size fourteen when everyone else was a size eight.  Mother always told me I wasn't fat, only "solid" whatever that meant. Now at thirty pounds less than what I weighed in high school I am still surprised to see the skinny size six me when I look in the mirror instead of the "solid" me.

One of the first blogs I wrote in this series was titled "I don't have bad hair days, I have bad hair".  It gives a pretty good description of a lifetime of wanting to have long beautiful locks when I was stuck with hair similar to a dog's.  It only grows so long and it stops.  I think I described it by asking it you ever saw a dog like a German Shepard dragging long hair down the sidewalk. Lucky for me every few decades the short pixie style haircut comes back into vogue which gives the chance to look in the mirror and figure I look okay.

Now to the lack of self confidence. I hear someone say everyday they wished they could learn to play a musical instrument, write a book, ice or roller skate, paint a like an artist and countless other things. It is easy to just sit back and wish you could do a lot of things.  It is a lot of work to try but what have you lost if you try and not become a Dorothy Hamill, a Gene Krupa or a Dan Brown?  I look at it as you missed a lot of fun in trying and the self esteem that you at least tried. Who knows if you keep trying you might just get great at something.

So, what brought on this sudden change in my story line about my rather strange life?  The chance came up for some auditions to a musical theater production.  It required a lot of tap dancing so naturally I signed up for a crash course so I could audition. It also required a singing audition which was a stretch as my musician son has always said I sing off key. 

Well, the tap dancing was difficult since it is hard to compete against twenty-somethings who have been dancing since they were born. But I learned that I could do it, it is really fun and I have a pair of expensive tap shoes so I will be ready for the next audition with more practice.  I was terrified to think about the singing audition but did work pretty hard practicing to sing on key. By the time I walked on stage in front of everyone I think I thought "what the heck" and belted out the song pretty much on key. Having previously flunked singing auditions I surprised everyone - even Marshell and myself.

Marshell, my "now" husband as I call him to distinguish him from the others, always tells me self confidence is a wonderful thing.  It is but it is not something I think I have ever had.  The important thing is that I tried.  Next time I hear someone say they can't do something I am going to tell them to at least try. The really fun aspect of my life is the my willingness to try new things.  Maybe I will never be a great writer, tap dancer, musician, artist and world famous but I will always know that at least I tried. 

That is my little story or lecture for the week.  Have my inner perceptions of my self changed?  No, in my little brain I am still not smart, cute, talented or anything else.  I am still that shy little girl afraid that I can't do anything and no one likes me but I certainly have a lot of fun.  Throw away all your self doubts and get out and do all those things you always wanted to do. 

Back to the story line next week.  Hmm....let's see....will I get fired from my volunteer job?  What will happen next?

By the way, I did get a part in the play.  Not dancing and maybe not singing but at least I did get a part.