Step 4: Rocks and Ditches

Darling Husband (DH) was to get home the end of May, and what a productive three months it was. Dear Mother-In-Law (MIL) had quite a time. My husband is a junior so the post office felt, since we weren't going to be in Purvis very long, that trying to separate our mail from his parents would be confusing. So DH said he didn't mind if they put ours in his dad's mail box. First of all, our time in Purvis was extended through no fault of my own. During my entire stay in that town I never got a letter that hadn't been opened. His mother puled, "By accident." She claimed she didn't read them, and if you believe that I have some land off the coast of Florida I'll sell you.

Our youngest son, six months old, was so sweet. He was the happiest little boy, and had very definite ideas about what he would eat and wouldn't touch. I didn't think too much about his not turning over. He didn't try to sit and made no effort to pull up or  crawl. Our oldest son had been very quick and was walking at six months. But babies progress at his own rate, right?

I wasn't the least concerned until people started stopping us when we went grocery shopping. They would peer at Jon, then look up at me. "Well, he looks all right, doesn't he?" they would remark. I looked at my beautiful six-month-old son and wondered what their problem was.

Then one of my neighbors knocked on my door after church on Sunday. "Oh Doris," she said, "I had no idea you had such problems. One thing for sure, with a MIL like her, you need all the help you can get. She was talking after church this morning, and I don't think I ever want to be friends with her again. If there is ever anything I can do, please let me know."

What was going on? I couldn't think what problems I had out of the ordinary, except that my husband was MIA. No one knew how short my money was. What could she be talking about?

Monday morning I got a call from MIL's mother (Granny) that explained much. She told me rumors were being spread that Jon was retarded. Granny had made an appointment with a highly regarded pediatrician for Wednesday and told me what time to have the boys ready to go. "We will put a stop to this right now," she said. i could just see her mouth set in a firm line.

Turned out MIL was telling anyone who would listen that Jon was retarded, and it didn't come from her side of the family. Great grandmother, huh? Purvis was such a small town the rumor  made the rounds lickity split. I thought I would like never to lay eyes on her again in my lifetime. But that is not going to happen.

Making the appointment and taking us to see that doctor was the biggest favor anyone ever did for me. And I loved Granny for her efforts. Jon was a big baby, 24 inches long when he was born. But the doctor didn't see any sign of slow learning. She felt Jon was busy growing and hadn't learned to maneuver his body yet. She recommended a high protein diet to prevent his becoming overweight. And she cautioned me not to communicate worries to the baby. "He is going to be fine," she said with a smile. "Just keep on doing what you are doing."

Life's journey is a long, rocky road, but especially telling when one needs a hand over a boulder. Beware of mudholes. Learning continues.

Step 3: The Birthday Party

Jess left in February and the school went for three months. The first six weeks they were 'nothings,' but the second six weeks they earn a sort-of rank, depending on their performance. Jess was appointed Lt. Colonel, the highest rank in the class. He had no power, just more responsibility. I told you he was a performer.  He was very proud and wrote about this honor which might be compared to a report card. His mother didn't see it that way. She went to the local newspaper and gave them the story that her son was a Lt. Col. in the Air Force after only six weeks. Oh well…

I did not save that clipping, and how I wish I had.

Funds to put a roof over my children's heads and feed them lasted the three months, thanks to the income tax refund miraculously arriving at the end of April, the day before the rent (which I didn't have enough money to pay) was due. Was I relieved, or what?

 In April Jack celebrated his third birthday, and we had a party. My neighbors were the most wonderful people. Shirley, across the street, had three of the cutest little girls in my boys' age range. We spent many afternoons at her parents farm where we picked field peas, tomatoes, onions and whatever else was ready to eat. Her sister lived with the parents. Poor Mary made a terrible marriage right out of high school. He had enlisted in the Army, and besides being abusive, the guy was a drunk and gambled. Finally her parents went and brought her and her two little boys home. The husband was kicked out of the army. More about her situation on a later day.

Jack's party was a hugh success. Shirley and Mary brought their children. Lotys, another friend, had two little girls and a boy. Everyone was under five years old, and  that age is self-entertaining. Every one got a prize for 'winning,' and went home happy.

Step 2: Purvis, Mississippi

We were almost in the Air Force. Jess had to do well at Officer's Candidate's School to make it real. He would. I had no doubt. When Jess makes up his mind, he accomplishes what he sets out to do. So off he went to pursue his dream: a successful Air Force career.

What about us? Little did I know that the laying of the pathway to the future was underway. I was deposited in Purvis, MS. We rented a house across town from Jess' parents. Jess had the notion they would help me with the children. Jack was almost 3 years old and Jon was 4 months. Money was tight. Jess would receive no salary during the three months he would be in training. Once he was commissioned he would begin to earn a salary. We had a small savings that we hoped would last.

The morning after Jess left, his mother called. Her 14-year old son would be over to pick up "my son's car to take me to Hattisburg." Dropping car insurance was one of the cost cuts we had made. When I told her about the lack of insurance that meant no one was driving our car, certainly not an illegal driver, she went into a towering rage, ultimately hanging up on me. So the tenor of my stay in Purvis was begun.

That's not to say I didn't have some strong supporters, including Jess' maternal grandmother. What a wonderful woman she was. The first time I met her before we were married, she was visiting from the TB sanitarium where she was a practical nurse. She was scheduled to retire the following year, and not the least bit happy about her fate. "They say it's the rule that I have to retire," she lamented, " and I'm only 72." 

I made up my mind right then that was the exactly the kind of attitude I wanted to have about aging. My learning had begun.

What is a bricolage?

'Bricolage,' according to the dictionary is defined as: 

1. a construction made of whatever materials are at hand;something created from a variety of available things.

2. (in literature) a piece created from diverse resources.

3. (in art) a piece of makeshift handiwork.

4. the use of multiple, diverse research methods.

That 'Bricolage' assemblage begins early for those living a military life. Retirement benefits are among the most highly respected reasons for selecting a military career. A 17-year-old can retire after 20 years at age 37, an enticing prospect when the interim is not considered.

My husband was in the Mississippi National Guard at age 15. When the Guard was called up for the Korean Conflict, he and his buddies were summarily dismissed at the behest of their moms. He rejoined when he was 17. Where else could one get a pay check for going to meetings once a week and summer camp once a year?

He enlisted in the Marine Corps after finishing two years of college. In the Marine Corps he played basketball with my cousin who gave him my address in Illinois. We wrote; he came; I was conquered. We were married December 30, 1957.

He re-enrolled in college, Southeastern Louisiana University where he played basketball and graduated in 1960. We had our oldest son April 10, 1959. Money was tight, but we believed the rewards were going to be worth the sacrifice. He has intended to apply for a commission upon graduation, but that height that made him a good basketball player was a severe detriment to becoming an officer in the military.

We floundered around until we could come up with a plan. He worked for Billups Petroleum and I was employed in retail. For fun, and a few extra bucks, he played basketball in an independent league. Air Force Recruiting Office sponsored the team. My husband and the recruiting sergeant discussed the Air Force discrimination against tall people.

The playing season was long past and I was soon to have our second son when there was a knock at our front door. Whatever could that sergeant want? To talk to Jess! 

The Air Force has discontinued their height restriction. The two of them went into high gear and began the process to get Jess accepted to Officer's Candidates School. Oh my!

The first of diverse resources was effected on my bricolage journey to retirement. More to come.