Sometimes it is the little, unplanned things, insignificant things really, that can bring joy. Tonight, my cousin, Rita and I were texting about something current and totally unrelated. . . but one thing led to another and it led me to remember things that happened decades ago - even before Rita was born!
My mother was dysfunctional. . . I was raised in very rigid circumstances. Many, many years ago, my cousin, Gwen (Rita's mom) and I would go fishing. Now all Gwen had to do was throw her line in the water, not even three feet away from mine, and immediately, the fish would bite her line, while I sat waiting for a nibble.
There was a pond across the street from where my grandparents lived in rural Alabama. So one morning, I woke up just as dawn approached. I decided on a whim, to get up and go fishing. There was a small row boat on the shore. I took my fishing pole and bait, got in the boat and went out to the middle of the pond. I sat there fishing, minus any bites from fish, for I don't know how long. What I wanted was to catch a fish, all by myself. It was peaceful and quiet. . . . until my mother woke up and discovered I was missing.
Somehow, in my adolescent mind, I enjoyed seeing her go ballistic. For once, I had dominion over her. I had done something she couldn't control. "SHERRY, get back over here RIGHT NOW."
Part of me wanted to ignore her. But in those 1950's days in the South, I knew better.
Was that the beginning of my free spirit mindset, of taking control over my own destiny, of standing up to whatever authority clashed with me, of making my own way in the world, no matter what my parents, or anyone else, thought and no matter what obstacles I encountered?
Thanks for listening.
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