Second
Childhood Dolls Provide Comfort
While no one has found "The Fountain
of Youth," a lot of folks experience a second childhood. Of course, it’s
not the ability to travel back in time that brings the onset of a second
childhood, it’s the aging process. The next few decades will see millions
of baby boomers join the ranks of the aged, and many of these will enter
a second childhood. I may do so myself, but given my druthers I’d just
as soon not.
Now that Barbara and I have folks in two nursing homes, I have the opportunity
to observe a number of old folks and the care they receive. It appears our
family members are being cared for satisfactorily. I’ve also watched
Barbara’s mom, Lillie Paseur, slip into her second childhood and
Barbara’s role as her mother’s child change into one where she
has assumed a sort of parenting role with respect to her mother.
Miss Lillie’s body seems destined to outlive her mind. Our communication
with her is best when we ask her questions she can answer with a yes or a
no. If either of us asks what she had for lunch or what she’s been doing
throughout the day, we don’t get much in the way of a sensible response.
Miss Lillie’s first few words of explanation are often halted by a long
pause in which she is obviously trying to think of what to say. The pause
often gives way to a smile and silence as her mind drifts to something else,
which she also can’t communicate to us.
Several months ago, Barbara and I visited her mom and discovered she was
cradling a small doll in her arms. Of course, she didn’t know where
she got the doll and could not tell us the doll’s name.
"That’s Sara Sue," one of the nurses’ aides shared. "We named it
for her."
A week or so later, we found Miss Lillie with two dolls wrapped up like babies
in a towel. She didn’t know their names, but an aide explained that
one of the other residents had given Miss Lillie the second doll (identical
to the first one), and its name was, "Sally Lou."
The dolls were all too real for Miss Lillie, who became upset if she laid
them down and couldn’t find them. Once she tried feeding one of the
dolls the English peas on her plate in the cafeteria by packing the peas
one at a time into the doll’s mouth cavity, which was intended to hold
a small pacifier.
Shortly after Christmas, Leona Britt, one of the residents at the nursing
home, showed us her doll collection and was quite proud of one she had received
as a Christmas present.
"Your mama wants one just like this," she told Barbara, and then she proceeded
to explain which aisle to look in at Wal Mart for such a doll.
Over the next few weeks, Miss Leona would ask Barbara if she had bought Miss
Lillie a doll and Barbara would explain she had not. In mid-February, Miss
Leona brought a newspaper flyer advertising a doll and suggested that Barbara
order it for her mom, which she did. The next time we saw Miss Leona, Barbara
told her the doll had been ordered, but it would take several weeks for it
to arrive. We were both surprised when the doll showed up at our house about
a week after it was ordered.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen an uglier doll, but he’s so ugly
that he’s also cute. The doll, William, looks like a wrinkled newborn
baby. Clothed in blue footsies and white snugglies, William also has a knitted
cap that covers his dark hair. William doesn’t do anything. He has no
battery-operated sound system; he doesn’t wet himself, and he’s
never awake. His best trait may be that he’s irresistible. Girls of
all ages want to hold him and take-on over him.
When Barbara and I took William to the nursing home last weekend, everyone
we met along the way stopped us, and every female wanted to hold William.
Miss Lillie was eating supper in the cafeteria when we arrived, but she took
time out from eating in order to hold William. Practically everyone in the
cafeteria wanted to see or hold William. Each time Miss Lillie was asked
the name of the doll, she didn’t know and had to be retold. Her short
term memory is almost completely gone. Barbara left the cafeteria long enough
to find Miss Leona and tell her the doll was here. Miss Leona was even more
thrilled to see William than the rest of the residents and staff.
"I’m going to tell Mikie, I want one of those," she told us before leaving.
She was referring to her nephew, Mike, who is her guardian. Miss Opal Austin
later told me she wouldn’t be at all surprised if Mike bought his aunt
one of the dolls.
The price tag for William was under thirty dollars, which is not a significant
amount of money. By all I’ve seen in the way of joy and happiness the
doll has brought to a number of folks, it was money well spent.
I can envision Barbara cuddling a doll in her second childhood, but not me.
Instead, I think I should probably go ahead and buy a toy lawnmower for me
to push up and down the halls if and when my nursing home days arrive.
Me And Mimi By
Carl Wayne Hardeman
Responding to our request for reader’s memories of meeting his or her
spouse, Carl Wayne Hardeman of Collierville, TN sent the following article
that first appeared in the February issue of "Desoto Magazine."
Carl Wayne also commented, "Our meeting is not unusual, but I'm sure
glad it happened. We met through a mutual friend and began dating, then I
went into the USAF, and we were married a year later. We "set up housekeeping"
in Omaha NB (Offutt AFB) a few months after that."
Me and Mimi
Faith aside, the best thing that ever happened to me was when Mimi, my bride,
agreed to marry me, poor prospects and all. It's been thirty-nine years;
it's getting better all the time; and I hope it goes on for at least that
many more years.
For our generation, we were almost late getting married. We married in January
1967 just after I turned twenty years old in December and just before she
turned nineteen. She was eighteen. A college education was just a dream for
me, which happily became a reality over time.
I was in the US Air Force and had begun what has been my life's calling:
doing and teaching all areas of information technology. I had three more
years to go at HQ SAC near Omaha NE. It must have been one of the hardest
things she ever did to leave her close knit family and make our little apartment
a home while she worked until our precious little girl was born a few months
before the end of my enlistment.
That time together away from family and most friends brought us closer. We
learned to love our time with each other and relish the small things like
going for a car ride, getting DQ'ed, or seeing a movie on base for twenty-five
cents.
Mimi is an only child and has been "petted" all her life. But that's all
she knows, so me, the kids, the grandkids, and granddogs [sic] have
long enjoyed the love and attention of her doting affection. Men, when your
sweetie marries you, she's giving you all she has: herself, and you need
to understand and place a high value on that.
Now don't get me wrong, no couple will ever see eye to eye on everything.
Young people need to understand that. A couple will have some differences
of opinion which don't have to ever be resolved.
I am convinced every couple considering marriage should take a canoe trip
together. Relationships are magnified on the river. There can only be one
captain in a canoe at a time. You have to work together unless you want to
get a good dunking.
We once went canoeing with two other couples. One couple argued all the way
down the river about who was in control and were miserable. Mimi and I paddled
together with me steering and had a happy trip down that river, and lived
happily ever after. Some times she steers; sometimes I do.
What has kept us close over the years? More than the deep and abiding love
we have for each other, we are dear friends with common values of faith and
family based on our commitment to God and to family.
We wouldn't dream of missing a family reunion, a wedding, or funeral. We
both would skip a pork chop and mashed potatoes dinner to visit with relatives,
and gladly put on another few potatoes to share supper when they come visit
us.
Living with Mimi, worshipping our Lord with our whole extended family, and
eating her Southern country cooking: it don't get no better than that.
Ain't God Good!
Carl Wayne (emailid:rowsofbuttercups@yahoo.com)
Highland
Wildlife By Sarah Carter Brown
During most of the years of my lamentable marriage, Jerry kept deer in a
fenced area behind our house. I could never quite figure out his fascination
with the deer. He always wanted a black bear, but I strongly discouraged
that idea. Instead, he contented himself with a few pet raccoons, a catfish
pond, and a couple of deer. The man should have been a veterinarian, but
he hated school.
The deer were expensive because of the amount of feed and the fence that
was required in order to get the game commission to allow the deer to be
kept in captivity. I thought the deer would have been happier in their natural
habitat, but what can you expect from someone who taught The Call of the
Wild for over twenty years.
Needless to say, one of the things I had hoped to enjoy about living in Pontotoc
was the absence of wild animals in my back yard. Alas, this has not always
been the case. I saw a red fox, which the neighborhood prides itself in,
the first year I lived here, but I have not seen it since. I was troubled
with an armadillo the first fall, but I think one of the neighbors got rid
of it, or it moved elsewhere. I saw a huge black cat last summer that looked
about the size of a half-grown panther. I remember noting that the way it
was slinking across the lawn looked like a panther in a National Geographic
special. Then, last fall a raccoon made a habit of getting into my garbage
can every night.
I should not have been surprised when I looked out back on my way to the
grocery store a few weeks ago and spotted deer behind my house. Glancing
out the sliding doors, I noticed a lack of vegetation in the wilderness that
encroaches my civilization. I thought the ice must have knocked some of it
back the previous weekend. I knew with the cold temperatures that it was
unlikely Wayne had been clearing out the area as he sometimes does. There
is something about February that has him trimming crepe myrtles and saplings.
In the midst of contemplating how so little ice could take out so much
honeysuckle, I noticed a large white-tailed deer stretching to get the upper
levels. Somewhat shocked, I saw another deer of equal size a few feet away.
Looking more closely, I spotted a third fully grown deer. "This is just great,"
I thought, "now I’ve got a herd of deer in my backyard."
I watched the deer off and on for several minutes. They came up to my daylily
bed and munched around on the Shasta daisies, which did not please me in
the least. I considered trying to scare them off, but I did not want one
to run through my screened porch.
I looked around for a camera and could not find one. I doubted anyone would
believe me. I had never seen a deer within a mile of downtown in my entire
life. Now, I had three in my backyard. I left for the grocery store and returned
to find the deer had moved to the back of Billy Montgomery’s yard. I
almost called Charlie Ruth, but I wondered if the deer might run away before
I could get through by phone. Then, I would not only sound silly, but Charlie
Ruth might think my mind was slipping. I jarred the sliding door to see if
the noise would startle the deer. It did, and the deer ran into the woods
between the Montgomery and the Patterson properties.
As I related the tale to Barbara that evening, she told me Raymond and Sue
Montgomery mentioned seeing three deer the previous Sunday crossing the street
and going into the wooded area behind Tim and Rushelle Martin’s house.
I breathed a thankful sigh of relief that I had reliable witnesses, because
I knew Wayne would seize the opportunity to poke fun at me about seeing things.
I remember some of Jerry’s hunting buddies complaining a good ten years
ago about the deer population getting too large and how something needed
to be done about it. They thought the problem lay with conservationists who
catered to the idea of not killing Bambi or Bambi’s mother. In short,
the point they tried to make was that too large a population of deer would
cause more accidents with deer moving into areas too close to towns. They
said that deer would begin to graze people’s gardens and destroy carefully
landscaped lawns. The scary thing, for me, is that those good ole boys might
have been correct in their thinking.
I do not like the idea of three deer grazing in back of my house. I wonder
if what they say about mice is true of deer. See one, and you have at least
fifteen more.
By Sarah Carter Brown
Bodock Beau
David, Jay, & H.P.
Late night entertainers, David Letterman and Jay Leno, are dependable when
it comes to dispensing humor with political flair or relating to current
events, while my friend H.P. Prewett is a dependable sharer of humor sent
his way.
David Letterman: "Top Signs You’re Not Going To Win An Academy
Award":
You’re up against King Kong for Best Giant Movie; Instead of asking
what you’re wearing, Joan Rivers asks why you showed up;
Your film is used to torture Gitmo detainees; Gretzky’s wife bet a grand
against you;
Your acting has been compared to Steven Segal; George W. Bush has information
you’re going to win; You spent months learning to become a gay cowboy,
but you’re not an actor.
Jay Leno: President Bush’s approval rating has fallen to an all
time low of 34%. In fact,his ratings are so low his new secret service code
name is "NBC."
The Rolling Stones will be performing in China. A lot has changed since the
last Rolling Stones visit.China built a great wall.
It was reported in the paper this week that even as Hillary Clinton was working
to stop the Dubai port deal, her husband Bill Clinton was advising Dubai
on how to get the deal through. She was trying to stop it and he was trying
to make the deal. Forget women, now he’s cheating on her with other
countries.
Hillary Clinton now says she didn’t know her husband, Bill Clinton,
was giving Dubai advice on the port deal while she was ruling against it.
Hillary not knowing what her husband is doing—is that the first time
this has happened?
Real shocker was that "Crash" upset "Brokeback Mountain" to win "Best Picture."
They were not happy in West Hollywood. They were looting Pottery Barns, flipping
over Volvos, smashing Liza Minnelli records. It was
ugly.
Woman And Baby
A woman and a baby were in the doctor's
examining room waiting for the doctor to come in.
The doctor arrived, examined the baby, checked his weight, found it somewhat
below normal and asked if the baby was breast or bottle fed.
"Breast fed," she replied.
"Well, strip down to your waist," the doctor ordered.
She did. He pressed, kneaded, rolled, cupped and pinched both breasts for
a while in a detailed, rigorously thorough examination.
Motioning to her to get dressed, he said, "No wonder this baby is underweight.
You don't have any milk."
"I know," she said, "I'm his Grandma, but I'm glad I came."
Contributed by H.P. Prewett, Jr.
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