My very earliest memories are of being mercilessly teased by my next oldest brother and sibling rival. I must have been about two when he told me to jump up and down naked on my bed and then said he would tell our parents that I was jumping up and down on the bed naked.
I began life laughing at his jokes and enjoying a pleasure in life that I recollect with a sense of envy.
But life can change. A few years later I feared for the lives of my parents and prayed for their continued survival. My mother was desperately ill and my father had heart disease both of which had presented about the time I was eight.
It was rather touch and go.
That was back in the good old days when not a lot was known about these diseases compared to now. I asked an older sister about how people got sick and she told me about bacteria and disease.
In my child’s mind I thought that I could learn enough about biological science that I could
bring my mother back if she died. I didn’t know very much about corpses then or how final death really is.
Both my parents managed to survive much longer than I had anticipated. I didn’t find out until
later their actual medical condition and how fortunate I was to have them at all.
The trips to the shack in north central Wisconsin managed to strengthen my mother: long walks, sunshine, fresh air and as I learned later proximity to where her family was originally from.
I think having the kids out of the house in the summer months was great for my father because he had time to do home projects like paint the place (the inside, it was a rental) and not have children under foot.
It was a let up from stresses of family life.
Both my parents were actually quite old by the standards of that time and I knew it.
Eventually there were books on bacteria and my understanding of such things in my teens grew because my older brother, the one who occasionally protected me from the deliberate teaser and rival was passionately interested in such things and kept those kinds of books around.
The sister who had explained bacteria and disease to me had been living in London for a couple of years by the time I was sixteen and after she came home for a brief visit I rode the bus back to the airport with her. After I saw her off I had an uncomfortable feeling that I would not see her again.
She died of a brain tumor in London.
That particular sister was one of three that were children of both my mother and father. She was also the one without apparent brain dysfunction and both beautiful and helpful. She was my personal Angel responsible for so many of my better sensibilities and I loved her dearly.
I think her death crushed my father. He was sitting in a chair at the dining room table and I stood over him as he heard the news and he broke down and cried. He said "A father should not outlive his children." He apologized to me for weeping in front of me as I put my hands on his shoulders and said it was OK for him to cry. I was simply oblivious and unfeeling.
At the same time my mother was lying close to death in a local hospital and my father forbade us tell her about our sisters death. He was afraid of losing them both.
I knew she wouldn’t die then. I have no idea why.
I began life laughing at his jokes and enjoying a pleasure in life that I recollect with a sense of envy.
But life can change. A few years later I feared for the lives of my parents and prayed for their continued survival. My mother was desperately ill and my father had heart disease both of which had presented about the time I was eight.
It was rather touch and go.
That was back in the good old days when not a lot was known about these diseases compared to now. I asked an older sister about how people got sick and she told me about bacteria and disease.
In my child’s mind I thought that I could learn enough about biological science that I could
bring my mother back if she died. I didn’t know very much about corpses then or how final death really is.
Both my parents managed to survive much longer than I had anticipated. I didn’t find out until
later their actual medical condition and how fortunate I was to have them at all.
The trips to the shack in north central Wisconsin managed to strengthen my mother: long walks, sunshine, fresh air and as I learned later proximity to where her family was originally from.
I think having the kids out of the house in the summer months was great for my father because he had time to do home projects like paint the place (the inside, it was a rental) and not have children under foot.
It was a let up from stresses of family life.
Both my parents were actually quite old by the standards of that time and I knew it.
Eventually there were books on bacteria and my understanding of such things in my teens grew because my older brother, the one who occasionally protected me from the deliberate teaser and rival was passionately interested in such things and kept those kinds of books around.
The sister who had explained bacteria and disease to me had been living in London for a couple of years by the time I was sixteen and after she came home for a brief visit I rode the bus back to the airport with her. After I saw her off I had an uncomfortable feeling that I would not see her again.
She died of a brain tumor in London.
That particular sister was one of three that were children of both my mother and father. She was also the one without apparent brain dysfunction and both beautiful and helpful. She was my personal Angel responsible for so many of my better sensibilities and I loved her dearly.
I think her death crushed my father. He was sitting in a chair at the dining room table and I stood over him as he heard the news and he broke down and cried. He said "A father should not outlive his children." He apologized to me for weeping in front of me as I put my hands on his shoulders and said it was OK for him to cry. I was simply oblivious and unfeeling.
At the same time my mother was lying close to death in a local hospital and my father forbade us tell her about our sisters death. He was afraid of losing them both.
I knew she wouldn’t die then. I have no idea why.
