Time to bring the blog back...
Recently, my (great) aunt Jean passed away. I shared this story with her son and thought I'd share it here as well. The message here is one I've heard from others as well, but it seems it's one you can never hear too much.
During my childhood, we made visits to Appleton to visit the Quakenbush’s. My memories of those trips are somewhat vague, but I remember huge horses (one named Kay’s Roan), something about Stokely-Van Camp, Chris playing guitar, and thinking that surely all the trees in that town were apple trees. They were fun trips. In August 1973 (I was 14 at the time), I set out on my first trip ever on my own. I don’t remember the particulars of how this trip came about, but I was headed to Texas – on an airplane! – to spend a week with Aunt Jean and Uncle Vic. I was a bit anxious about the flying, but the trip was uneventful. I thought I was all that! So grown up and ready to face the world.
It came as a shock then, even to me, that my first couple of days there were miserable. I was horribly homesick! I was beside myself and felt sure I just needed to go home. I was in the bedroom crying, when Aunt Jean came in to talk to me. She asked what was wrong, and I explained. She was very kind and understanding and gave me a big hug. Then, in that Spaulding woman manner, she told me I would be okay and I just needed to get off that bed and do something. Aunt Jean was not at all unkind, just to the point. Anyone who’s ever been around the Spaulding women can probably hear this in their head. I laugh about it now, but at the time I thought it was a little abrupt. However, I shook myself off, got off the bed, and had a blast for the rest of the trip.
We went shopping at the mall and had lunch in a store restaurant. We went to a rodeo. We went to church. We went to a restaurant and had mesquite-grilled meat. We went to visit Ernie and his family. I went horseback riding and swimming. I played with the dogs. Can it really have been almost 40 years ago? It certainly doesn’t seem like it to me.
I’ve thought of this trip many times in my life. It comes to mind especially now that I have my own children who have to deal with life’s issues. After a talk and a hug, I tell them in that same manner, you’ll be fine….you’re a strong woman, just pick yourself up and move ahead. Though it’s not evident in my name, that Spaulding blood is still coursing through the veins.
Me on Chuck Wagon
traded in the red bug years ago. The little yellow Subaru, after all its service - donated to whoever would take it. The old, rusty Ranger - literally put out to pasture.
Posts
