Longleaf Stories

full circle in the hundred acre wood

Is there really a big secret in our family?  I feel like there is at least one, but I don’t know what it is.

 

Maybe that sort of convoluted thinking evolves when there is an early tragedy in a family, like my Dad dying of a heart attack when I was twelve or maybe I was eleven. My Dad and President Kennedy both died in November. President Kennedy was assassinated in 1963 and my Dad died in 1964, so I guess I was thirteen. That awful year is bracketed by the two deaths, like huge, terrible bookends, and every time I think of it, I have to get the order straight in my mind again.

 

That nuclear blast cauterized our communal memory banks. Mother went crazy. Or crazier. Hell, I don’t know. We’re Southerners. But I can tell you this: by the time I went away to college, she was convinced people were living in our attic and peering down through a peep hole to spy on her and every evening before dark she took large safety pins and a step stool, and then closed up the draperies from top to bottom to be sure no one could see in. 

 

Yes, I know she was a lone woman with children in the house, but this – this is only one example of the seizure-driven meltdown that was in progress. It’s full bloom came later. I do remember that when she would have a “spell” as she called them, she would fall to the floor in what I would later come to realize was a grand mal seizure.

 

Mother told us these “spells” were caused by “the Change” — menopause was not a word spoken in our house — you can imagine how terrifying it was for me as a young girl to contemplate all of the weird, mysterious, uninvited and seemingly uncontrollable processes that took hold of the bodies of women. Damn Eve! Why did she have to go and mess around with that apple tree? (Talk about baggage. . . wow.)

 

My mother and father fled the farm before I was born and went to be pioneers in Miami in the late 1940s. I’m sure my mother’s parents did not approve of my olive skinned working class father. But compared to her first husband, he was a prince. Plenty of space for secrets in that script.

 

But does it matter, anyway?  “Secrets” told to everyone are generally revisionist history. Find out who tells it, and you will find a vested interest. Many “secrets” that have been told all around, so-called open secrets, are just gossip with a kernel of truth, repeated for the aggrandizement of the teller.

 

Let’s make up our own secrets, if they juice up a prosaic past. You tell me yours. I’ll think up some to tell you.

 

0 thoughts on “Secrets

  1. Denny says:

    I’m afraid I don’t need to make up any secrets. Now that you mention it, there all too many lurking in the past, where they belong. If I were to talk about them, I’d have to reconstruct them until they’re unrecognizable…to make sure the secrets remain safe. That is, if I were to…sounds like a high-stakes game.

    Like

  2. Wally Jones says:

    I’m lazy.
    The secrets and dramas of the past no longer elicit any desire on my part to expend any energy to delve into them, let alone explain them.
    The reality of my today is a culmination of many secrets, some now known and perhaps many still unknown.
    My great desire in this summer of my life is to discover the secrets of my tomorrows. Hopefully, they will include love, good will and the ability to edit remembrances of my yesterdays.
    I am exactly who I have become – no more, no less. For me, at this point in time, that is enough.

    Like

  3. Gullible says:

    Oh, my. Did you just kick my muse in the butt…..

    Like

  4. Beth W. says:

    Denny — your comments would sound like a great beginning to a noir novel if they weren’t vibrating from the danger of truthtelling.
    Wally — sounds like a forward-looking manifesto for freedom and happy life. “Where are the fish biting today?” is a much better secret than delving into some misfiled, best forgotten childhood angst. . .
    Gullible — you’re welcome!

    Like

  5. fletch says:

    I like the mysterious and unspoken aspect of family secrets, whereas some families make no secret that they are related to a prominent person of the past. It’s amazing how many people are direct descendants of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and European royalty.

    Like

Speak. Leave a memory.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Life After 50

Life at any age can be amazing! We only need to grab hold & experience it!

Contemplation

"An expression to contemplate life into words while life contemplates words into thoughts"

The Lonely Author

A quiet corner for writers to get inspired one word at a time.

Ana Linden

Writing Life

Oh, border!

dissolving lines in the world through understanding them

Do Not Annoy The Writer

I write because I can. I can because I want to. I want to because you said I couldn't.

Selected Essays and Squibs by Joseph Suglia

The Web log of Dr. Joseph Suglia

laurenwebsterphotography.wordpress.com/

...because every picture tells a story.

Nicholas C. Rossis

Dream-protecting author

lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown

Reflections on Life through poetry, essays and photos

CRAZY LIFE

I was born not knowing and have only little time to change that here and there

Broad Street

True stories, honestly.

Deborah J. Brasket

Living on the Edge of the Wild

The Citron Review

An Online Journal of Brief Literature

Iris Graville

Writer. Book artist. Quaker. Believes everyone has a story to tell.

Discover

A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.

%d bloggers like this: