When I was growing up, my parents were very strict and quite prim and proper. Heaven would quake if someone spoke badly about anyone or behaved out of line. Behavior was, well, just kind of accepted based on who you were. "Isn't that just like ___________!" You knew you were accepted into the family when you were described as "common." For me to be acknowledged as the granddaughter of Maggie Pederson meant I came from good church-going stock.
I was one of those philosophical teenagers who thought everyone was wonderful and should be given equal rights. My mother had a deep fear of anyone that wasn't white and spoke quite openly that she would move if she were in a movie theatre and a black person sat next to her. When, she visited me in the 1980's and 1990's, she just shook her head at my colorful slate of friends. I didn't understand what the big deal was ... still don't. Something must have happened to her that she chose not to share with me.
As a young girl, my friends and I would gather together at Girl Scouts and giggle about the birds and the bees. We were no naive ... so typical of young girls in the 1950's and 1960's. Romance floated around us as we got interested in this boy then that one. Songs from that era spoke of love and all it's glory ... we swooned over the teen singers who came to the Lakeside Ballroom to perform. Notes were passed in class in school and we could hardly wait to get home and get on the family phone. Long letters were written and kept in hidden places so moms and dads couldn't get a sneak peek.
There were the girls that did "it" and the ones that didn't. Funny though, there were also the boys who did "it" and those that didn't. I think it was a pretty even playing field. There was this mystique about sex and we all wondered what it would be like. My father scared me to death ... he told me that a boy would never marry a woman who he could get milk from for free. He drilled it into my head that sex was bad and not to be experienced outside of marriage. I believed him.
Outside of my very open mindedness, I was a pretty run of the mill teenager ... I always had this huge conscience hanging around my neck ... still do. If I messed up, it would be coming in a few minutes after my 10 or 11 o'clock curfew. I didn't present any big challenges for my parents and made sure that anything that would rock the boat was kept quiet. My best friend, Lynda, and my other group of friends knew everything about me though ... no secrets!
When I moved away to college, I was fortunate to room with Lynda. If one of us got into a prickly situation, the other one was there to counsel and be responsible. Well, sometimes! I tested the waters and found that college boys were quite different from high school boys. Everything I had wondered was true ... they certainly were much more forward and being friends wasn't quite on their agendas. Many were there to sow their wild oats!!
One night, Lynda and I were invited to a frat party in Fargo, ND. I'd never tasted beer and upon arrival was given a Dixie cup filled to the brim. It didn't taste good but I drank it anyway as did Lynda. We got so embarrassingly sick and were puking on the grass. Two young men took pity on us and drove us back to our dorm. (To this day I wonder who they were as they were so kind and non judgemental) I was sick for several days and vowed NEVER to lift beer to my lips every again. That has stayed true to this day. Another party we were invited to given by the wrestlers at Moorhead State, ended up being wilder than we wanted to experience. We left and walked back to the dorm. Later we heard that a coed was raped there. We felt fortunate to have had the good sense to leave when we did.
As a freshman in college, life was being thrown at me right and left plus I was having to take classes that I'd never taken in high school ... chemistry, physics, biology, higher math... I was a bright student but stretched to get a C in math and science. With no one to keep a tight rein over me, I struggled with finding my own way, keeping a checkbook and figuring out what I wanted to do in life.
There was no such thing as cell phones or the Internet so courting a young lady was done quite differently. One night, the phone rang in the center hall and I was called to the phone. It was a young man who had been following me around campus. He said that he was going to be at the next basketball game and that he would introduce himself. I didn't have the good sense to be scared that someone had been following me nor did I worry about his proposition. My naivete was blatantly obvious!
Of course, Lynda accompanied me to the basketball game and I met (I will call him) Adam. The first time I laid eyes on him I was so taken back ... he was wearing an expensive black coat with a red plaid inside ... the collar was pulled up on his neck and he smelled of a wonderful cologne ... he was one handsome dude. We talked for a few minutes and agreed to see each other. I'd never met someone with such pizazz and self confidence ... he was quite versed in schmoozing! Besides that, he was a Senior ... a Senior interested in me!! He drove a convertible and dressed in the best of clothes. I'd never known anyone who spent money so freely!
Adam pushed the envelope of life. He drank too much, was rebellious at college and was continually bailed out by his parents when he got into trouble. I didn't have to join him ... I could just live vicariously through him. I wished I had the courage to be a bit more free to experience life as he did ... I was one of those nice girls that guys bring home to meet mama ... as a girl friend, maybe I was just a shade more on the straight and narrow. I don't know if that was good or not but at that time, it was me. I was curious and I walked on the edge...
Looking back, I definitely was a product of the rearing of the times. I was afraid of making mistakes and guarded my real feelings carefully. The 60's years were a time of free love, hippies, and if it feels good do it. I read about those people and wondered how they could live that kind of lifestyle. Now, I believe that I was a free-spirited woman at heart and should have allowed myself to experience more of all God had for me. I wouldn't have been a scarlet woman but I would have had more vitality and energy. I would have built more confidence in myself as I followed my creative bent and wouldn't have been so misled by smooth talking exciting gentlemen with ulterior motives!! I'd have been my own person not what my parents wanted me to be or a boyfriend wanted me to be.
Love truly is a complicated four lettered word. It can take on so many conotations from, "Oh, I love that lipstick" to "I love my husband with all my heart and soul." I think until one experiences the love of Christ, love is so empty and void of meaning. Would I die on the cross for someone that I am professing love for? Love is not to be taken lightly. For me to profess love, I am fully aware of my responsibility towards another person no matter who that person is. Love is honoring and building up ... it means sacrifice and action. It means standing up for another when it would be easier not to.
There are so many books on love and why we do the things we do. For so many years I didn't understand myself let alone someone else. After examining my own life and the lives of my parents and grandparents, I understand more and have redefined myself. I own my own thoughts now and accept responsibility for my actions and inactions. For such a long time, it was hard and I flubbed up so many times. By the grace of God and my family, I am and always will be a work in progress. I cannot go back BUT I can move forward taking bigger bites of life and savorng them as I should have so many years ago.
I've read that God has a purpose and plan for everyone. That He knows what we are going to do before we do it. If that is so, I must relax and enjoy the ride now on out... I've been a well-behaved woman that has walked just on the edge of the darker side of life. Somehow, I think that my children and grandchildren will remember me because as I have matured, I have thrown more caution to the wind to love and laugh openly. I have spread my wings and tried new activities. I may not be what my parents wanted me to be ... but then, again, I hope that they are looking down from Heaven and are proud of my heart and the perserverence instilled in me to work towards wellness.
I want to encourage you, my Readers, to spread your wings and live. Too soon we rest and are but dust. Love must be experienced with an open hand and lovers allowed to experience the fullness of life both separately and together. I was held too tightly and my brain flooded with biased information during my growing up years. As a mother, I wanted my children to be heard and their voices held in esteem. I wanted them to learn to fall down and get up. I bit my lip many a time, as they ventured out falling to my knees in prayer for their provision and protection. Today they are fine adults raising fine children. As a grandmother, I encourage my grandchildren to flap their wings and sing ... to celebrate who they are! And, believe me, they do!!
God bless you and keep you safe as you go about your days ... enjoy each day to the fullest and rest in peace in slumber being refreshed to start again...
Let's chat again tomorrow, shall we?
and ....another great one!!! Truly great--love walking down memory lane with you. Who is Adam?
ReplyDeleteLove you!
Jane