A friend of mine told me I somewhat reminded him of the Jason Aldean song "She's Country." For a lot of reasons I think he's right. I don't feel completely comfortable in the western glam scene, because it is just that… glam. Just like the rap scene has been over-commercialized with bling so has the country scene become bedazzled. But being grown in Texas soil makes me bleed something unfound in the concrete, smog, and industrial/commercial BS I see so much of.
During college, linking up with hippie-types I felt a strain between the two subcultures. I grew up in both the suburbs and small towns in Texas. I went to Mexico (bordertowns/la frontera) a lot as a kid. I fished and gardened. All this has made me what I am today.
For this post, in lieu of mother's day, a way of celebrating our beginnings and formation of life, I'll write about some specific things that have shaped who I am today… my fondest memories.
One of my fondest memories is visiting my Grandmommy's ranch in Campbell. I'd go there with my dad to visit. My cousin and I would go to the sand-pit where I remember her teaching me that girls too can pee on the ground. My aunt and grandmother would help us make things like decorated walking sticks, adding fake fur, leather braids and beads. We would go to the lake and hunt for arrowheads, which we'd actually find some of, and search for four-leaf clovers and make bookmarks with pressed flowers.
My mom and I lived with my Memaw for a while on the farm a couple times. I think if I felt like anywhere was home, that was it. Someday I'd like to buy that place back from the people who own it now. There were lots of trips to the feed store with PawPaw, feeding ponies and dogs with Memaw, planting marigolds. I spent many a year in black rubber boots. I remember one time in my junior years we had worked all day outside on something, and we went in and sat under the fan and ate cheddar cheese crackers and peanut butter with a ice cold Coke. Now and then when I let myself eat that, my mind goes straight back to those days, and boy does it taste good.
Even though my mom and dad were divorced he would come to the farm and visit and hang out. These memories are a bit fuzzy of course because I might have been 3 or 4. What I do remember is Dad and I would go down to the big lake across the field and look for beavers. We have a video tape somewhere that Dad filmed as we tracked the beavers, checking out their dens, but being careful not to disturb them. All of my family made sure to point out critter tracks and taught me how to determine which animals was which. It's still one of my favorite things to do. Also when Pawpaw, Memaw, Mom and I would go to into town (Honey Grove) we'd go to Doc's, the only restaurant besides Dairy Queen. On the way home we'd look for animals, being careful not to run any over. This taught me to respect and love the creatures in God's world. And also to pay attention to my whereabouts.
My grandaddy also did this as he was a big part of my fishing life. He has a place here in east Texas "The Lake" as we call it. My Mom, Papa, brother, cousin, aunt & uncle all go spend weekends there with Grandaddy and Maroba. We learned to fish of course. We also learned to be quiet, to get up early if you actually want to catch something, and to respect nature. You throw fish back if they aren't big enough. You try to be careful when you unhook them, especially if you're throwing them back. My Grandaddy is a pretty tough man that you wouldn't want to cross, but he will feel guilty if he catches a young bass in the eye and makes it bleed. There's all kinds of compassion in the world I have learned.
I spent a lot of time down in the fish house where The Keeper cleaned the fish. Ken let me watch (for hours sometimes) so fish guts are not really gross to me. I remember the first time I saw the egg sac of a catfish spill out into the sink. Ken felt bad that a mama fish lost her babies. But thus is the cycle of life in fishing for keeps.
A principle that extends to "good" fishermen and hunters is population control. My Grandaddy taught this to everybody, especially I know to my uncle. Legally of course there are guidelines where you can't just keep as many fish, ducks, or deer that you want.. They do not want the populations to go extinct. This is their translation of stewardship of the land and it's creatures.
My step-mom Andrea taught me a lot about making-do and being happy with what you have. When I'd go visit them in South Padre we'd eat plain old pasta with butter and salt, have girl's movie nights and light candles to make it "fancy". I looked forward to this every visit. It was simple, cost almost nothing and was just genuine quality time. We also did creative crafts like decorating t-shirts with fabric paint and creating "shell creatures"… hot-gluing sea shells to each other to build people. Even now, when money's tight, I love eating plain old noodles…. and crafting things out of practically nothing is also one of my favorite things to do. I still look forward to our girls nights. They are especially fun when we have wine, tea time or rummy-playing too.
Speaking of tea time, it has always been a quirky thing in my life that I have so much British influence. Not only is Andrea's family half Brit, but my Papa (step-dad) is full-on British. We have tea regularly aka as soon as someone enters the house, as we are settling on the couch to talk in the evening, and a cuppa before bed, Typhoo decaf or chamomile for me. This has added not only many a fond memory, but also influenced the culture of my life. In college if I ever had guests over and wasn't sure what to do with them at first, I would offer them some tea and we'd gather in the kitchen while it was fixed. It's an excellent segue way and adds grace to otherwise awkward hospitality. Also, my Papa has taught me an even bigger lesson. He is often the bridge between my mom and I. We southern women are passionate and have a way with words. My Papa is very good at sitting back and listening to both sides separately and finding a way of explaining where the other person is coming from. I try to do this myself and allow time to heal some things that I know words cannot. Nobody is perfect, and some days our own crosses are heavy enough to carry so that we don't think we can handle someone else's. The next day though somehow, it becomes a bit easier.
My cousin is a piece of work too. I admire her more than she'll ever know even if she reads this. She has the patience of Job, and even though I can be the flakiest cousin in the world, I know she still loves me. The family also laughs when a wasp is in the room because of the "AHHH!" that always comes from her. A favorite fishing memory is getting the moss of her lures because she thought it was gross. Also is my lack of grace rollerblading in their basement in St. Louis and banging my head between those metal pipes as I tried to speed through them. I can always count on Kristen to be a bit more mature than me, and I need that.
My aunt has always been so encouraging. She sends little notes like Andrea just saying "Hi" or for a small holiday. She tells me to go for my dreams because I think she knows I can actually accomplish something big someday. I think she also (as a fellow literature type) understands the depth of symbolism in certain things that other people miss out on. Even if that isn't true, it's encouraged me to look deeper into daily things and in many ways has encouraged me on my faith journey. Without her consistent effort to tell me that God has something special for me, perhaps I wouldn't be on this road. Perhaps I wouldn't have the faith I have now. Maybe I wouldn't have even made it through some of the darker days I have experienced over the years. It's funny because I borrowed a small book from their library when I was really young on ancient Egypt. That's when I became obsessed with religions, culture and symbolism. That's what opened my eyes to a whole new world. That journey hasn't always been pleasant, in fact the opposite, but I am all the wiser. Like the bookmark that she gave me a long time ago which I still have with that famous Robert Frost quote about "the road less travelled." That's the road I've been on. She also gave me one with my name and the meaning of Katherine which is "purity." Believe it or not I have always taken that to heart, and have extremely strong morals. Sure, like many I have made a million mistakes and got hurt because of it, but over all it's made me stronger than ever. Again, I'm glad I was told not to settle.
I gotta add something about my Dad. There's a million times I can think of where he has showed me how to "just be" and enjoy my surroundings. Also to pay close attention to what's going on. I remember on one of the many journeys down the Indian Nations Turnpike we pulled over on the shoulder and got out because there was a bald eagle circling above. I remember him saying something about how I might never see this again in my life. What's cool is that now where he lives there is actually a bald eagle nesting area over the lake. We went there a couple years ago in the winter, stood in the snow and watched them flying around and sitting in the trees. A couple summers ago we saw one really close when we were out on the lake. I could go on about how one time when I lived on the farm we saved a Golden Eagle that someone had shot and left for dead and took it to the bird sanctuary. Also my love for beaches, water, salt-water fishing, Jimmy Buffett, The Kettle and those little wooden peg games.
When I was off with my dad in Missouri or South Padre, I often had pets and plants at home that were left behind, but not neglected. My Mom and Papa faithfully watered and fed all those marigolds, moonflowers, and that huge sunflower I had in Allen. Papa built a great place for my box turtle Cornelius that I found at the lake.
I am pretty sure that most of my family has influenced my love of animals in some way, but I lived with my mom my whole life. She's the one who let me keep them. She's the one who taught me that I had to take care of them. She's also the one that made sure I did my homework, took baths, ate and "wouldn't let me go out of the house like that" until I could decide on my own what looked good. Though we still may not agree on things like that, I'm thankful that for certain things like interviews or nice parties, I know what and what not to wear. Sure I think that society is cruel and judgmental in those situations sometimes, but in order to get the job or perhaps a boyfriend I might have to play by those rules. I've learned when and where I want to play like that.
My mom has always told me to stand up for myself. She has always told me to question people's authority in their reasoning. If someone was mean to me or if I didn't think I could get a job, she has always said, "Well, who are they to say that?!" She told me it took her a long time to start asking that, so she started me out early. I'm so thankful for that because it's the foundation for most of my thinking in every realm. Though there are times now when I question her authority, I think over all it's a good thing. One of the things that makes us human is to think. One of the things that progresses humanity is questioning.
In 7th grade when I didn't want to take piano lessons anymore, she told me I needed to be in band. I had to stay in music somehow she said because my dad was musically gifted when he was younger. She also encouraged me to be in Gifted & Talented and PACE, an accelerated reading program. I wouldn't be the person I am today if I didn't have all three of these experiences. If you know me at all, you know I'm a reader. This class also introduced the love affair I have with metaphors and analogies. I wouldn't read the Bible with the same fulfillment this day if not for Mrs. Yant in those classes. In GT I wrote poetry about love and trees, and integrated nature into the classroom by starting a garden in the small blocked-off space outside between school buildings.
Band became my life when we moved to Canton. I actually had something to do in high school. All of those memories hinged on the fact that my mother made me be in band when I just wanted to quit. Even after all those times in high school have passed and exist only in pictures and memories, my passion for music exists today as I play flute sometimes at church or with friends. Countless hours have been spent jamming on flutes, pennywhistles, pianos, guitars, etc. And though my Mom claims my musical side comes from my Dad, some of my favorite memories are singing with her and harmonizing in the car to Celine Dion or Judds songs. I think she contributed more than she thinks to my "ear" for music.
All of my family, even those I haven't specifically mentioned, like many other cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents, have all molded me. I have fond memories of everyone and it is those memories that I think about when I'm feeling alone. Those memories are evidence of love, which to me is evidence of God. I could not ever say thank you enough times. I only hope that I have created similar memories with all of my family so that they know, especially in the doubtful times, that they are loved and accepted as they are. I have learned over the years that though we are often held singularly responsible for "how we are" we have much more influence (as you have seen above) in the shaping of each other than we think.
The many faith perspectives, creative influences, compassion for others, love of God's beautiful world and creatures, and freedom and joy of life and celebration which I have embraced molded my personality. My attitude comes from both the opposition I have met over the years and my family as well. My stubbornness comes from being red-headed, which is a mutation and totally not my fault. So thank you family (and friends) for helping me be who I am and who I will become. Thank you especially Mom, on this Mother's Day. And thanks be to God for the Love planted in all of us, that we extend to each other. Amen.
