So, So Lucky

You have to go way back in time for this story to make any sense.

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For the first time ever, I've actually made contact with some of the people that populated my parents' lives. My parents moved around constantly as Daddy had this thing about acquiring degrees. He ended up with two masters and one PhD. He'd work awhile and then take a notion to go back to school. I wouldn't even want to try to add up all the places my parents lived since their marriage in 1949.

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Everywhere they went they'd make a couple of friends and it was a lifetime deal for them. Christmas cards would be exchanged, letters written, occasional phone calls or visits would be made. I grew up hearing the whole life story of people I've never met, never will.

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My parents always wrote of all the wonderful things that happened in their lives and all the fabulous accomplishments of their wonderful children, glossing over all the problems. On paper, my sister and I achieved an impressive resume, to be sure: both of us graduated from college early with honors, acquitted ourselves in law school admirably (i.e. we graduated. My sister made Wig And Robe, I graduated), and always managed to scare up a job somewhere.

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We married, my sister had an early divorce, but got a good one the second time around, both adopted adorable kids, etc. etc. etc. ad nauseum. There were years--years! that my sister and I both went through crappy jobs, rotten boyfriends, medical problems, etc. that were never revealed to the adoring public who awaited the glowing missives every year from my beautiful, brilliant, madly-in-love parents.

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My parents acted like teenagers going steady until the day they died. You think Obama and his wife looked hot for each other? Well, I hate to think of my parents in that way, but from the way they grabbed and kissed each other at the slightest excuse (like if Mom removed a casserole from the oven) I'd say that they were pretty much in love Obama style. And you should see the love letters..And Daddy's favorite song ever was Peggy Lee's "Fever"..which makes me a little squicky..but we had some lovebirds for parents all right. Lucky. Lucky parents. Lucky daughters.

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Some little old bird told me that there were people on the mailing list who didn't greet another unbearably smug but charmingly written (with my father's wonderful sense of humor) Christmas letter from "Ruth and Grady" with smiling anticipation. People who had awful problems.

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People who had unresolved, shall we say, ISSUES.

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My little old bird was chirping the truth.

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So most of the people I've called couldn't be more gracious or caring, (Hi Jim and Doris! Hi Ed and Doris! Hi Vickie and Callie Vick! ) but there's been a few.

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Ok, I present this to you. Mom had a "friend" in high school. JUST A FRIEND. So she was a hot blonde with curly hair and sparking green eyes, so what? They were JUST FRIENDS. HONESTLY.

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Her friend, Clarence Smith, wrote her letters all through his service in WWII. We just found another college scrapbook with a towel marked "Aloha!" that he sent her from Hawaii. He sent her about 30 pictures with friendly inscriptions on them, pictures from all over the world. He was quite the well traveled serviceman.

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Well, I couldn't care less about the pictures, and I thought that perhaps Clarence Smith would like them. I copied down his number and called him. I got his wife. Clarence, your wife could not have been ruder to me. She was cold and rude from the start of the conversation. She ended it by saying, "I don't think we'd be interested," and hung up the phone. No, "I don't think so, but thanks so much for asking." Maybe they weren't JUST FRIENDS???

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Good Lord Almighty, woman, they were such good friends that Mom asked him to play at her wedding. That doesn't sound like they were anything but friends, or Mom was incredibly insensitive, one or the other. Maybe she was the girl that got away? Maybe he did some talking in his sleep? Maybe the rumor floated back to Mooresville, NC that Mom kept her stunning figure and beautiful face 4-evah--even now, even though she's almost dead, would you believe she still looks pretty and has a great figure? Now I have to figure out if he had any kids who would like the pictures. CLARENCE SMITH'S KIDS--are you out there? Email me! Your mom totally dissed me!

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Next I called a couple that I'll call John and Jane McCrabby. Poor things! You see, they adopted two children at the same time that my parents did. Daddy and John were pals in grad school, and I don't know if Mom and Jane were close. Anyway, they're still living and sentinent, and together, and MOM lost the love of her life eleven years ago and suffered a whole lot, so lady, maybe you could cut her a break, HUH? But her kids have had such horrible luck in life.

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Ok, we'll start with the oldest, Sue, who is my age. Poor Sue got pregnant at age 15; her parents made her get married. She had a son. The marriage didn't last long, as you can imagine. Sue picked herself up and went back to school, became a nurse, and remarried.

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Then, several years ago, her second husband killed himself. Oh Sue, my heart breaks for you. Then her son, we'll call him Sam, got a girl pregnant when HE was a teenager, so Sue became a grandmother before she was 40, I think. Sam's girlfriend ran off and Sam is raising his son alone, or was, anyway.

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The son, age 2, died several years ago very suddenly of bacterial meningitis. Now that is just so much tragedy that it makes me feel like I'm starring in Ozzie and Harriet.

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The second child, Roy, is seriously schizophrenic and I don't think he's ever been able to hold down a job.

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To tell you the truth, I wanted to cheer up the McCrabbies by letting them know that our "perfect, wonderful, beautiful successful" family has had its share of grief and pain. So I called and got Mrs. Crabby on the phone and told her the tragic news about Mom. My jealous bitch radar started to ping mighty hard after the first few SECONDS. She didn't even try to sound sad. I heard--jubilation. I was shocked. I expected some quiet satisfaction once she got off of the phone but I didn't expect her to sound as if I was awarding her a prize from Publisher's Clearing House. After all, the family was friends with ours for 40 years. They visited us. They sent letters and my mom sent letters back. They sent us Christmas cards every year. Daddy and John were great pals and knowing Daddy, I'm sure he did many kind and helpful things for John. I'm sure Mom sent her consoling letters and maybe even flowers each time another tragic missive arrived. At the end of the conversation I asked if she'd like Mom's mailing address and contact number.

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"No," she said. That's all. Just..."No."