Dangerously standing up in my carriage- asserting myself early onJ I wanted to stand up and be counted!
Sadly, by Mother’s Day of that coming year George left Elle and me for good. After that I would never again experience what it was like with a mother and father together except when visiting the homes of friends. I do treasure a few memories of them together before their final separation that would lead to their divorce sometime between my third and fourth year of life..
There are a few snapshots in my mind of my mother being home and preparing supper for our family. I loved her being there. I remember having the chickenpox and her being there while I recovered on the sofa. I would stare at mom in the kitchen as she was busy preparing food and cleaning up the dishes. I loved the feeling I had just watching her being there. Having my mom nearly would become one of the obsessions of my childhood. I craved being near to her and was painfully homesick whenever I was apart from her. It would take many decades into adulthood before I found adequate strength to detach enough to stop craving my mother’s love and acceptance. I simply cannot understand a child who does not long to be close to their mother (regardless of the circumstances) since that was always my default mode and my mother was so often my world.
There is a strong memory of George my dad coming home from work and me jumping on his lap as he sat on the sofa. When he got home from work I was so happy and wanted to be with him more than anything. I’d sit on his lap bouncing or try to open his falling eyelids with my little fingers. George’s eyes kept closing and I hated that. “No no Daddy! Don’t go to sleep” I said. “I’m not going to sleep just resting my eyes” he would say. Sometimes he would bounce me on his knees to nursery rhymes. He was fun and made me laugh and feel so happy. No one could ever be afraid when on Daddy’s lap! He must have been so tired after working a long day at the steel mill at a job he probably hated. Unfortunately he didn’t keep most of his jobs for very long. His artist personality but mostly his drinking interfered with anything routine except time in the bar in the evenings.
I also recall times when Elle and George yelled at each other and he threatened to throw an old time radio at her. I think I usually started crying when they argued. I just wanted them to stop. I loved it when there was peace and harmony in our home. The surroundings were irrelevant. All that mattered was the two people so important to me- mommy and daddy.
A little child cannot understand why conflicts or arguments happen but they do have feelings about them. I believe that parents would do well to have their arguments and express conflicts when they have privacy apart from the children observing them. Watching conflict only makes a child feel insecure, afraid and the seeds of anxiety can be born before anyone knows it is happening. Children cannot comprehend adult conflicts and do best when they are protected from them as much as possible.
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