The View from My Swing

    Packed away for safe keeping, I have an assortment of old black and white pictures. Many of which has information written on the back partially covered with bits of black paper, as if someone had hurriedly ripped them out of one of those old photo albums from the forties and fifties, held on with little black triangular fasteners that fit each corner of the picture. I have no information of what year they were taken, or who they are, and now, after all these years, there is no one left to ask.

    In 1956, when I was six years old our family moved into a three-bedroom house in a brand-new neighborhood. This house came with a surprise, it was right on the edge of a canyon. It wasn’t as deep, or as wide as the famous one, but for an adventurous kid like me, it was undiscovered territory with only a chain link fence separating us. I lived there with my mom, my stepfather and my older sister, Christine.

    On Saturday mornings, although my stepdad and I were still getting acquainted with each other, I sure wasn’t going to say no when he invited me to walk over to check on the progress of our new house. As he walked along in silence with me tagging along somewhere nearby, I decided it would be fun to kick a rusty can out of my way which set off the angry bee inside. I was always apprehensive around my stepdad, and with the bee incident I knew he would be annoyed, but it was more important to me to lose the bee, so I ran away, screaming, and flailing my arms.

    Afterwards, I was embarrassed, as was the case whenever I did something silly, or stupid. When I returned he just looked down at me and rolled his eyes. “What were you thinking…you’re allergic to bees that could’ve been very dangerous.  You need to be more careful or you won’t be able to come with me anymore.” And after a few more minutes of silence.  “I think it would be better if we keep this from your mother, we don’t want her getting upset.” Dad cautioned.

    “Ok, but I didn’t know the bee was inside.” I impishly replied in my defense, as I stood there, looking down at the ground. I kept repeating that silent voice that was always with me over, and over, again telling me how stupid I was, especially now with mom expecting.

     I think his annoyance with me may have squelched his happiness about the new house. So, I took a deep breath and decided I would do better the next time. I slowed down and tried to think about what I was doing before I kicked that darn can, but my reason had already flown away with the bee. Then came the second shock, I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. Our beautiful new neighborhood was a mess, with wood, nails, and trash thrown everywhere with no progress at all since the last time we came. he was shocked also.

    Dad spent thirty years in the Navy and when he wasn’t away on a three - month cruise

 in the middle of the ocean on one of those huge ships he loved so much, he was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it. He wasn’t used to waiting for anything and I knew the man who was in charge was in for it.  

    Sometimes, it felt as if I were in boot camp myself, and that our home resembled a warzone at times. But we tried hard to please him and were good little sailors diligently taught to make up our bunks, swab the decks, and stow our gear with expert ability.

    Because he always hit first and asked questions later, I always made sure to find out his location which put me on high alert whenever he was nearby. I was far too rambunctious and there was always a hand flying somewhere in my direction if I was close enough. I knew a little of what his job at the base entailed, and glad he was there and not at home a lot of the time. I understood all the different ways that someone can lash out at you before you even know what hit you.

      “Chris, why didn’t you want to come to the new house?” I asked.

     “ How many times do you have to see the house? I’ve seen it and if things change let me know, it just looks like a big mess to me.” Chris replied as salty as ever. Chris was my older sister, we were Irish Twins, meaning that we weren’t a whole year apart in age, which meant nothing at all to her, but I thought it was neat that we were the same age for one whole week. We were nothing alike in temperament though, she could be very nasty at times.  “It was bad today there was junk everywhere. I should’ve stayed home too.” I confessed.

    “Ok, what did you do now?”  She asked, giving me the stink eye before she even got the details, boy, she knew me well.”

     “Nothing…I just kicked an old, rusty can and there was a bee.” I said, hesitantly. “Don’t tell mom.”

    “What! Chris yelled, jumping off the bed. You didn’t get stung, did you?” She asked, while giving me a quick look-over just to make sure.

    “Nope, but if dad could’ve reached out farther I’d have a knot on my head as big as a lemon right now.”  Yes, I was a nuisance but I don’t remember feeling love from him, it simply wasn’t anywhere in our relationship. It was more like a feeling that I had to be a certain way—it was expected. My socks and underwear may not have been neatly folded in my drawers, and at times there was more than a thin layer of dust under my bed. These were expectations my sister and I could never fulfill. We were always on the threshold, but never quite there and we always felt his disappointment. It didn’t matter how perfect we tried to be for him, nothing was ever good enough. The bar was set too high. Or maybe his mind was on something else, like the new baby on the way.

    “Do you want to walk over there to inspect the house with me, if so no kicking any cans this time, deal? Dad asked.

    “Deal!” I said.

    Through a wooden vail of imaginary walls, Dad pointed out the kitchen window, framed with wood but still without glass. As it was I who usually did the dishes and this window was right above where the sink would eventually be. I gave it a passing glance because I knew, at the very least, that I would have a view of the canyon while doing the dishes. I tried to imagine what the living room would look like with our furniture. Where the dining room table would go, and where we would have Christmas dinner with the whole family and especially where my grandma and grandpa would sit.

     The following week our quick tour of the house led us in a circle, back to the kitchen and outside to the back yard. I walked over to the edge and looked down into the place I would spend my childhood investigating. There was a deep slope from our backyard to the point where all the yards converged and then deeper still to the bottom. Filled with sagebrush, cactus, and plants I had never seen before, or heard of filled my nostrils with an aroma I would remember for the rest of my life. Lining the very bottom were the beautiful oak trees--it was magical. I was so excited I talked Chris into coming with us the following week.

     After thinking we were never going to be ready to move in, it happened… without a great deal of fanfare we finally moved in and one afternoon while sitting in my little rocking chair with dad out on the driveway, the new neighbors next door drove up. They seemed made to order…and that’s when I met Sissy for the very first time. Chris met Sissy’s older sister Clare and we all became fast friends.

      After a while it was as if we had always lived here. Sissy and I spent so much time in the canyon, running down to the huge oak trees at the bottom of the canyon so many times, we made a permanent trail. It was wonderful. I learned so much about nature and saw things I never would’ve seen otherwise. On one beautiful, sunny afternoon, Chris and I were out in the side yard swinging on our new swing set when we noticed something crawling up the side of our house. “Hey, what’s that crawling up our house?” I asked.

   “Looks like a giant lizard. I’ve never seen one that big before, have you?” Chris asked. “I didn’t think so.” Chris and I both screamed and ran into the kitchen and didn’t come out for the rest of the day. We also saw things we loved, and then there were the snakes, a swarm of bees came up from the canyon one afternoon, and I will never forget the butterflies hatching out and coming up out of the canyon…it was breathtaking. And with all of nature erupting all around us we didn’t even notice we were growing up.

     Sissy and I didn’t go down to the bottom of the canyon much anymore but I managed to talk her into it one day. She had other friends now to hang around with. We weren’t that far apart in age, but I could tell she was different than when we were younger, and I was still the same old me.

     She sat up high on a long, low-hanging limb while I sat on the end with my right foot touching the ground and as we went up and down on that huge limb, which was better than any teeter totter. As she talked about her boyfriend and how she was saving all her money to get a car. I began to imagine my life without her in it, the transition from junior high, to high school hadn’t happened for me yet. I had been left behind due to a terrible case of tonsilitis  that kept coming back when I was in the second grade, so mom and dad thought it best to hold me back in the same grade over again.

   So, there we were, on a beautiful summer afternoon, going up and down, under a beautiful oak tree without a care in the world. It was one of those pleasant moments in life when everything comes together perfectly and makes a sweet memory that lasts a lifetime. I could’ve sat there all day, talking, laughing, and enjoying our beautiful surroundings. But I could already tell that things between us were different, she had changed and I hadn’t.

     After a while Mom came out and stood at the fence and called me. She was wearing a blue dress that buttoned down the front and her little frilly white apron with tiny delicate embroidered flowers following the u-shape seam right above the ruffle. I had seen her in that dress and thought she was beautiful. Even though she had two more kids, a daughter right after we moved in and a son two years later, she was always meticulous about the way she looked. Her naturally curly black hair rested flawlessly against her shoulders, and her makeup was always perfect. You would never see her anywhere with curlers in her hair, or without makeup. She was always critical when spotting a woman out in public looking untidy.

    I always admired her beauty but there was something missing in our non- existent relationship. Looking at my mother was often like looking at a distant star. When we were alone together, which wasn’t very often, she seemed preoccupied, but with four kids how could she not have been? She seemed scattered…she was everywhere and nowhere and had no time for me. But I loved her and I would always remember my mother standing there at the chain-link fence in our backyard calling out to me.

    “Well, it’s been fun but I better get back and finish my chores before mom gets mad, come on.” Sissy said sliding down from the tree.  I was embarrassed and at that point realized I wasn’t ready to let go of my childhood…not yet.

      I never went down into the canyon again and a few years later our family, all but Chris moved north, near San Francisco. I got married and had a couple of kids myself and one summer when our family went on vacation in our new motorhome, I made sure to let Sissy’s mom, Peggy, know we were dropping by. Our poor house had not been taken care of and that made me sad. Sissy wasn’t there yet, she was also married with a couple of boys and her mom, Peggy told me they were on their way, she had called as soon as we pulled up.

      Peggy knew I wanted to see what the new owners had done with the house so she asked her neighbor if I could come in and look. They hadn’t done very much in the way of renovations on the outside but made wonderful improvements inside.  As I looked around the living room and dining rooms I went into the kitchen and looked out the window I had looked out so many years before while doing the dishes. I surveyed the canyon expecting everything to be the same, but something was missing. The trail all of us kids chiseled into the hard ground going up and down to the bottom was now overgrown with sagebrush, and cactus.

    There was nothing left of us, no evidence of our ever being there and I almost cried, then I remembered that moment hearing my mother’s voice calling me to come home--my mother had passed away recently and I lost it and Peggy, Sissy’s mom, held me tightly in her arms for a while crying with me. She was my mother’s best friend for years.

    “Yes, I know honey, Chris told us, and from what else she said, I think it was time, poor dear.” Peggy confided.

    “She suffered horribly, at least Chris did the right thing in telling you, but I feel bad not writing. Honestly, I’m awful when it comes to writing, or calling…I’m sorry.”

    “I’m just thankful you called to let us know you were coming. Oh, they’re here! Are you ready, we can wait a minute if you want.” Peggy said, teary eyed herself.

  “I’m sure I’ll be blubbering as soon as I see them.  Ok, I’m ready and thank you for always being there for my mom and me.” 

   “I’ve missed you and your mom and the good ole days. It was so wonderful back then. Sometimes, I wish I could get them back, even for just a little while.” Peggy confided.

     “Me too, with all my heart. You were always my favorite of mom’s friends, like a second mom. I never realized as I was growing up that things would be so difficult in some ways, and I understood just how hard my mother’s life was. But the carefree days weren’t so carefree for us. Until we moved into this house and met you and your wonderful family. How fortunate were we. You and your family made my life better, especially after mom got sick. Thank you for always being there for me and my family.”

    We both wiped our eyes and hurried out to the front yard where Sissy, her husband and kids were waiting. We were hugging each other, crying, and laughing. It was the nicest conversation we had ever had.

    “It’s been so long, you look wonderful. Wow, but how we’ve changed.” Sissy confessed.

    “For the better! So, what do I call you now that we’re all grown up?” I asked.

    “You can call me Sissy, that’s what I go by, it’s what I will always go by. Hey, did you notice our trail’s gone? We’re going to have to do something about that. I wish you were staying longer, so we can introduce our kids the ways of the canyon.”  Sissy said.

     “I wish we could too. But we’ll be back for a longer visit before you know it.”

     “Are these yours!” Sissy asked, and a round of hugs came around again. “I’m so sorry to hear about your mom. Chris called and let us know.” Sissy said.

     “Thank you. And what about you? Two handsome boys, wow, they must keep you busy, but I know you can easily handle raising two boys, you could always run circles around me. You had so much energy.” I said, not wanting to stay on the subject. It was hard to even think of her especially now being here with her best friend and what she went through. It wasn’t fair. And as far as my stepfather was concerned, he did exactly what I thought he would…he took care of her for the rest of her life. He took care of all of us after she had to go to a convalescent facility, but it was close by and we got to see her often. I didn’t realize that his stern, outwardly appearance was just a façade and in the end he became the man everyone loved.

     Driving home it was wonderful to see my best friend again, after all these years and then I realized something; you can’t go back in time and relive the past, once it’s gone, it’s gone. I needed to appreciate my memories and make new ones, and let the past remain in the past…where it belongs