Mind’s Eye—A Feast

April 10, 2020

It’s my birthday, I’m 98 years old! I must admit, my memory has failed and faded. Despite this, I am grateful for the investment I put in myself—86 years in the making. I am officially retiring from the squiggles of the present, transitioning to plunging into the antiquity. Over my entire life, ever since I was able to properly hold a writing instrument in my hand, I’ve captured the essence of my being through penmanship. I am immensely appreciative that I decided to journal over the span of my life because I can’t remember a lick of it! I, unlike the few others my age, have the opportunity to read my flourishment and absorb the words on hundreds of pages that represent my entire life experience. I have a bookshelf teeming with rows of my diaries like a set of encyclopedias. My milestones that were happenings in the distant past are now reading material for me to cherish here on out as I savor the last of my fate unbraiding. I am thankful for the gift of a pulse, a pencil, and pages to have outlined my existence. I have read through thousands of diverse written commodities, flipping sheets brimming with vitality like days and years and decades. I am beyond blessed with the ability to reminisce my own chronicle like my breath sailed between the lines on papers, coasting the sequence of my words. With that said, I dug out my most pioneering, pivotal entries that made me who I am today, and I hope they will be cited like a heritage to be strung and sprung, reaching a place larger than myself—an everlasting fabric of lineage. Though I age and wither, I now can recognize life itself is absolutely timeless.

-Lucy, age 98

March 31, 1928

Dear diary,

Todey, I finally learned how to ride a horse. Daddy bought me a Morgan horse, so I named her Morgan. I love her. She is a pretty brown like silk. She is very friendly. I did not fall off of her once. Daddy was surprised and proud. Most kids fall off a horse at least once when learning to ride, but Daddy said it is important about whether you get back up and try again. He taught me how to feed and bath her and how to put a saddle on her. Saddles are super heavy!

I had a blast todey. Morgan is a well-behaved horse Daddy said. 

-Lucy Johns, age 6

August 24, 1932

Dear diary,

I am definitely enjoying my summer vacation from school. I love school, like literature class, but I am happy to be outside all day at the farmhouse! I have been rereading my favorite books. I don’t know how many times I’ve read them, but they never disappoint! Every morning, I watch the sunrise from the porch with an open book in my lap.

Lucky, my new puppy, usually barks when the roosters start their morning ritual of crowing. This gets Morgan in the stables stomping around because the sound spooks her. She still hasn’t adjusted to little puppy howls, but I am sure she will get used to it eventually. Poor girl!

Anyway, Joana, my best friend, came over today. We did somersaults and cartwheels in the wet dewy grass for a little while. Then we went into the field by the farm and picked my mom and hers a fresh bouquet of flowers. Momma reached down to smell the flowers, and a bee buzzed out! Oh no! She got stung right on the tip of her nose. It was so funny, but Momma didn’t think so. She threw the flowers onto the wooden floor and told us to get a glass pitcher from the cabinet, fill it with water, and put the bouquets in it OUTSIDE! We went back out to the field, and we caught black snakes and released them. It was fun. I don’t know why Joana loves snakes, but she does. I didn’t tell her about how Daddy used to eat them when he was a kid. She probably would have been freaked out. She found a skin and took it home with her. 

-Lucy, age 10

April 2, 1936

I don’t say ‘dear diary’ anymore because it’s silly.

All my friends and I went on a picnic down by the river. We filled a basket with sandwiches, grapes, and lemonade. We set up the checkered blanket right by the water under that big weeping willow tree for shade. We chatted about everything—school, hobbies, the books we have read, but mostly boys. Then, Wallace and his guy friends came out of nowhere. He so has a crush on me (I do too!), because he invited us girls for a drip in the water. We all splashed and played and swam. Then he said I looked “beautiful” in my skyblue lace dress that was now soaking wet!

-Lucy, age 14

June 17, 1938

Oh, my goodness! Wallace asked me to marry him! We’ve been dating for two years, and he took me to that same river under that same willow tree where we both hit it off and got down on one knee! I know I’m only 17, but I’m not sure if I’m ready for marriage. I froze, overlooking the glisten of the water. The waves brushed our ankles, and he dropped the ring in the sand as the ripples drew back in. We both jumped in, desperately searching for the ring. After a few minutes, I found it. I held it up to the sun, watching the small diamond twinkle in and out of the bright rays. It was magical. In that moment, I felt the warm touch of his lips to mine. He asked, “So, what do you say?”

Mind you, I write this as my middle and ring fingers rub together, tangling with the diamond pendant around the sleek silver band. I said yes! We’re engaged!

We’re getting married in the winter. Daddy isn’t very happy since I’m his little girl. But, I’m all grown up. I’ve been working at a teeny grocery store since I graduated high school, and Wallace has been picking up any small jobs he can so we can save up and buy a house soon. This proposal really comes at perfect time because I’m pregnant. I’ve haven’t told him yet, but I’m sure he’ll be as excited as I am, despite it being such an unpopular, frowned upon concept.  

-Lucy, age 17

September 19, 1940

It’s been awfully difficult with Eddie, our one-and-a-half-year-old and newborn son, Oliver. Wallace just got drafted into war, so he is upset about having to leave our baby after just meeting him only two weeks ago. Yet, he is serving our country for our children and generations to come, I am grateful. He’s worried about us, but I assured him we’ll be fine, and we’re ready to see him again. Eddie and Oliver are already missing him, but Wallace said he’ll write us frequent. We’re sending him love!

-Lucy Goodwin, age 19

May 1, 1946

The war inspired me to pursue nursing. The kids are getting older and don’t need as much, so I have a void I must fill! I’m now going to school while Wallace has been staying home with the kids during the day and working at night at a new factory job. Eventually, we’re hoping to make enough money to hire a babysitter for when we work long hours days.

So far, I am enjoying nursing school. I’d love to one day help treat and heal our veterans and war heroes. I am learning quite a lot, and it helps that Wallace is supportive. At first, he wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but he is understanding. And he must admit, he loves all the extra time with Eddie and Oliver. He misses out on the bedtime stories, but he’s been teaching the boys how to become strong men just like him. He even mentioned, once our careers are established, we could have another baby. We shall see!

Life is good.

-Lucy, age 25

July 6, 1950

Today, I just gave birth to a beautiful baby girl! A girl finally! We named her Della. She’s absolutely gorgeous. She has Wallace’s eyes and my nose. So sweet! The boys were so gentle and loving when they met their baby sister for the first time. Oliver was ready to take her home! But I can already tell she’s going to be Daddy’s Little Girl just like I was.

My nursing career is flourishing. It’s very rewarding. Each day brings new excitement. My nurse friends came to visit me upstairs in the hospital, and Joana, who I haven’t seen since high school, dropped by. I haven’t seen her in so long, but she was sure to bring a bouquet of flowers. She made sure to tell me the flowers didn’t have any bees in them; she checked. We both giggled like we used when we were just girls. She pulled up the chair and we chitchatted while Wallace and the kids went to grab a bite to eat. We caught up real nice. She recently had a baby herself and helps out at her husband’s business. She said her college degree really became an asset at the restaurant her husband owns and manages. I said I’ll have to eat there sometime, and that’s when she handed me a bag full of French fried potatoes fresh from the fryer. Boy, were they delicious and salty—just what the doctor ordered!

-Lucy, age 29

December 23, 1958

Yesterday was tragic—and right before Christmas! These two days have been the worst of my entire life! Wallace passed away due to a massive heart attack at the age of 38. I am devastated. Being a nurse, I tried my best to save him, to resuscitate and perform CPR. I prayed to the lord, asking him to spare my husband. Wallace squeezed my praying hands as I leaned over his chest, waiting for an ambulance. He said it was his time to go but he loved us all dearly. Tears flooded my eyes and seeped into his white shirt like a warm tea. What’s worst of all, when the kids came off the school bus right as the ambulance left the driveway, I had to break the news and then head to the hospital.

He was an amazing husband and father. He was my high school sweetheart, and I don’t know what I’m going to do without him. And the kids, poor things! I’ve always had my parents in my life, and I couldn’t imagine a world without them.

Luckily, ‘Ma and ‘Pa, took Eddie, Oliver, and Della for the holiday while I figure this all out—and process it with a bottle of whisky. I look at the brightly lit Christmas tree and breathe in the vibrant aroma of pine, and it no longer brings me the joy and nostalgia it once sparked. It now symbolizes an object of my misery. So, I yanked its spine and shook it as hard as I could, shattering glass ornaments and spraying its needles everywhere. Then, I threw it out of the door and wept on the living room rug until I drifted into an alcohol-induced slumber.

-Lucy, age 37

January 30, 1961

It’s been a difficult year for us all. I’m still learning to live without Wallace. While the kids are resilient, I am having trouble accepting his ill-fate. It’s truly been eating away at me, and I’ve developed a drinking habit. As soon as I wake up to the moment I go asleep, I’m self-medicating. I struggle to put the bottle down now. Three weeks ago, I suffered a minor heart attack caused from my excessive alcohol consumption, the doctor suggested—a cocktail mixed a broken heart.

Last Wednesday was the first day I realized not only am I depressed but I have a problem. Then, it gets better, a twister struck the neighborhood, and we lost everything Wallace had built for this family—it’s all gone. The house didn’t even have a frame once the tornado swept through, leaving nothing but fallen trees and litter. I was forced to move in with my parents. On top of that, I was let go of my nursing job, I was showing up hungover. ‘Ma and ‘Pa love having the kids at the farmhouse, but I feel like such a burden to them.

It’s bound to get better, right, the only way is up?

-Lucy, age 40

June 28, 1967

Eddie graduated college and medical school with flying colors. He passed his doctor exam (whatever it’s called) and is now officially a doctor! I am so animated! His father would be intensely proud. And, Oliver is right behind him, as he just got accepted in medical school. He wants to become a surgeon. I was just blessed with handsome, strong, intelligent young men!

However, I’m worried about Della. She is exactly like her mother. She is a 16-year-old and ditched school to live her dream as a singer. I’m not happy with her decision since she’s so young and reckless, yet I can understand her wild nature and the need to be free. I myself was 17, pregnant, and living on my own with my husband. The only thing I can do is hope she returns once she discovers the impracticability of her ambitions. Otherwise, there’s no way she could be reeled back in, and her ego is too big to admit she made some bad choices. She calls me on a payphone every once and a while, and I beg for her to come home. She hangs up on me. She’s a free spirit.

-Lucy, age 47

February 5, 1972

Today I got a life-altering diagnosis. It’s not easy to say this: I have liver disease. My heavy drinking really caught up with me this time! On the plus side, Eddie’s wife gave birth to identical twins—Aaron and Derek! The boys look exactly like Eddie, as Eddie looks a lot like Wallace.

Della stopped by to see her new nephews, which was great since I hadn’t seen her in years. Of course Oliver was there, him and his brother always were close. As life is brought into this world, I have vowed to completely kick my drinking cold turkey. It’s only been a couple hours since this challenge, but I can tell it’s going to be one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. Eddie actually pulled me aside and told me my violent, chalky cough sounded like some medical condition. That’s when I told him how I recently started smoking to help offset the alcoholism, which was not a good decision. He gave me a lecture, and we had it out right in the hospital room! He screamed at me for giving in to all temptation just because I, still to this day, haven’t accepted Wallace’s passing. I abruptly left, I didn’t need another doctor to ridicule me. Plus, he’s not my therapist! But darn it, I know he’s completely right. I have a shameful, toxic excuse of a mechanism in which I’ve been coping all these years.

-Lucy, age 60

September 16, 1981

Today, I took a leap. After years of slipping in my faith, I went to church, something I haven’t done since the weekend before Wallace’s death. I was greeted by an older gentleman, friendly and kind. At first, I didn’t feel like I belonged, but Frank really helped me feel comfortable. We began talking and we have a lot in common: our spouses both died, we never grieved or moved on, we drank, and have nearly a decade of sobriety under our belts. I’m getting older and my body hurts a tremendously more than it used to, so it’s been difficult to write in my journals. I stay away from pain pills for obvious reasons and rely on over the counter medications, but it’s not enough. Maybe the love of the lord will weaken my pain and strengthen my bones.

-Lucy, age 69

October 30, 1987

I fell in love again. I married Frank … at the same church we go to every Sunday. I walked down the aisle in a white satin gown, admiring the stained glass windows reflecting their colors onto the alter with my second love waiting for me. My kids and grandkids came to witness the ceremony, and I even got to meet my great granddaughter—Louise.

-Lucy, age 75

January 1, 2000

This marks the beginning of the century.

Although my mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be, the twins who are now successful businessmen taught me how to use a computer so I could write a book about my vintage childhood at the farmhouse before I lose my memory and retention. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, as I loved reading as a little girl. I am seasoned in life, aged like wine, so it’s only natural the power of retrospection will soon drift from my grasp. And one day, I’ll be ready to peruse over my existence and relish my own past. Eventually. my pair of grizzled, tired eyes will take a glance into the old and draw a blank into the forgotten as a refresher, banqueting in history.

-Lucy, age 86