June 29: Today I am Chicken Little

Today's post is dedicated to the memory of my mother, Nina Wheeler. She's been gone from our lives for 52 years, but has never been gone from our hearts and minds. My brother told me today that he tries to remember her face everyday. I think that's lovely.

"If I had to choose between breathing and loving my children. I would use my last breath to tell them, 'I love you.'" Unknown

"A mother's love still travels on after she's gone. A treasure hidden in the hearts of her children."

John Mark Green

[This is what the dogs do while I blog.]

[Bobby wondering what I’m doing outside with the picnic table.]

[My Grandma’s house on Garland.]

[My dad and mom and me in front of our Oak Acres apartment.]

It was a really rough day. So many disappointments - I spent the morning trying to find where my mother is buried. I called all the Catholic cemeteries, no luck. I called the office of vital records and went there to get her death certificate to see if it had her burial site on it. It did, but they wouldn't share this information with me because Nina Irene Wheeler is no longer listed as my mother on my birth certificate. That's right...When my dad married Max they decided it would be a good idea to adopt each others children. In order to do this they wiped our mother's name off our birth certificates and put in Max's name. I can't believe they would do this. It's like she never existed. She who carried us inside her, she who loved and cared for us so deeply was so disrespectfully erased. I found an address for her brother, my Uncle Bubba, Robert Enright. I went to the address and my cousin, MIke answered the door. He said that his dad had died in April. My timing continues to be bad. We visited for a little bit. He and my uncle's second wife did not know the cemetery where my mother is buried. While we visited, I asked him if he remembered that he had a pet monkey. He said that he did and I quote, "Gettin' a monkey was a bad idea. He died from heat stroke and I occasionally still feel so bad for that monkey." So sweet. Mike was a designer and pattern maker in the garment district. He was married when I was still a little girl. He divorced, never remarried, and never had children. So his brother, my cousin Bobby never remarried after his first marriage. He had a son, Robbie who lives in Dallas now. My Uncle's second wife, Marilyn is a super sweet lady 94. They were only married for 14 years. That was after my Aunt Betty Jo died. My uncle had a crush on Marilyn in the 5th grade and would write her love letters. She was widowed for 31 years when they reconnected. He finally got the girl. I guess he sold his car lot and his horses in the 80's and 90's and retired to gardening. The house they lived in is quite large. Now it's just her and Mike living there. Bobby is in assisted living. Mike is only 70 years old and that means Bobby isn't more than 75. I must get my good genes from my dad's side. I was able to find several sites from my childhood in Memphis. St. Joseph's church and school. is where I received my first communion, as well as the church where we had my mother's funeral. Found the Valley Forge Apartments where we lived at that time. The apartments had front and back doors. Out the backdoor in the parking lot is where we used to play kickball until the street lights came on and that meant it was time to go inside. I remember moving into those apartments - they were brand new and it was raining hard that day. My mother left me with my older cousin, Donna to go back to get some more stuff. She took so long and we got so hungry, we made cookies in my Easy Bake Oven. I also found my Grandma's house - the house my mother grew up in on Garland St. The house where we watched the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan show, the house with Lawrence Welk every Sunday night, and the house where the fake Christmas tree was entirely made of tinsel and there was a rotating rainbow wheel light aimed at it (dazzling). It's also the house where my cousin Diane ate a whole cup of dog food. Everything is so run down. The elementary school, Graves Elementary was all boarded up. I smashed my nose and upper lip on the spinning bars on that playground - got a spanking from my first grade teacher in that school for taking too long in the restroom. I remember my mother was livid. Not at me, but at Mrs. Hopper because I had an upset stomach and was really sick, not dawdling. Today, I also went to the Pink Palace. When I was a kid we could ride our bicycles around there. It was a park. Now it is a museum of Natural History and it is closed due to COVID. I tried the Peabody Hotel. I thought I might catch a glimpse of the ducks, but they are reserved for hotel guests now (also due to COVID.) I remember my grandmother taking me there several times when we rode the bus downtown to get her harir and nails done once a week. My final discovery today, which I had a feeling of when I first arrived at this campsite, was I am camping in the Oak Acres where my apartment across the street from Graceland actually used to be. They tore down the apartments, put some houses up behind, left the wooded area and put in parking lots and this campground where the ditch and the BBQ restaurant used to be. The ditch is where my cousin Bobby tried to cross this rickety old bridge with his brand new convertible, remember his dad owned a cart lot, with all the cousins in it and the bridge broke and we were all stuck in the ditch. There was also a wall around the swimming pool that we used to sit on and tell knock, knock jokes, which I was never very good at. Knock, knock...who's there?...carrot...carrot who?...Aren't you glad carrots are orange?...See that was one of my better ones. I thought I was so good at it because my brother and our neighborhood friends would laugh so hard at my jokes...ooooh, they weren't laughing at my jokes.

So lots of disappointments today. Started feeling a bit sorry for myself. I think here in lies the problem (not an actual problem really - the rub). My dad moved us away from our family support system and replaced them with Max's family because he didn't really have a family of his own, just his step mom and so didn't see the harm he might be doing. I've mourned the loss of that family my whole life. When I moved to California and Arizona with Ben I moved away from my dad and my brother, who were my only real family, and became a part of Ben's family, they never really accepted me. Looking back. I can see now why it has been so important for me and my boys to be close to each other, not necessarily in proximity, but emotionally. This is why Ben and the boys have been my world for more than 40 years. And now...I feel incredibly lonely. My heart is breaking and my stomach is aching. The weather is mimicking my mood. The wind is kicking up and the sky looks like it might cry.

I went out of the camper to try to catch some pictures of the fireflies in the grassy areas around the oak trees, but they are super hard to catch on camera. I realized that I forgot the keys to the trailer and I had locked myself out. I couldn't actually lock the door without the key, but the top lock gets stuck sometimes and so I am usually very careful to bring the keys with me, even if I don't lock the door. Short story, shorter, I was lucky I had left a window open. I moved the picnic table over near the window and climbed through. Finally got my laundry done. Woohoo.