CHAPTER 1
My Mother, Louise Turner
When I think about all the roles we hold throughout our lifetimes, I marvel at how unique we are. My mother was a daughter, sister, mother, aunt, cousin, grandmother, great grandmother, employee, friend, neighbor, among others. The one that left such a great impression in my life was my mother, Louise Turner.
I grew up in Pine Bluff, Arkansas. We had good neighbors! Those days were different from the neighborhoods today. You knew your neighbor, and everyone looked out for one another. I remember that we used skeleton keys to lock our doors. If you lost your key, you just borrowed a key from one of the neighbors' since they were all the same skeleton key. We had a few elderly neighbors who kept up with everything that happened on the block. They watched us grow up over the years and gave their unsolicited comments on our actions, whether good or bad. We were taught to respect them, with no exception. If they saw us do something bad or heard us say something we should not say, it was like our mothers heard it and we would be punished. I would always speak to the neighbors. Sometimes, I would sit on their porches and talk with them. They used to laugh because they knew I talked too much but would not say that to me. The two sisters, Ms. Ida and Ms. Nettie, lived on the corner across the street; Mrs. Virginia lived to the right of them; and the most wonderful, generous and loving couple, Mr. & Mrs. Shackleford, lived on the corner. Ms. Elvira lived next door to me on the right side. Next door on my left were the Sanders, who had a child my age who I was very close to. The other neighbors on the block did not have any children. They watched us grow up and gave advice. We politely thanked them because we knew if we said or did anything disrespectful, Mama would not like that.
My mother was the second oldest daughter. My grandfather and grandmother used to call her "Sister". I don't know why, but I do know it was a loving term because I saw it in my grandfather's eyes and how he treated my Mother. This was Love and Respect between parent and child that I recognized.
My mother had one brother, Uncle Floyd, and three sisters, Lena, Dora and Katie (who died as a young girl before I was born). I saw how loving and protective Mother was about her sisters and brother. This was love and respect among siblings.
I don't remember too much until I was about three or four years old. My grandmother was ill, and I remember riding in the ambulance with my mother to take my grandmother to the hospital in Little Rock. My mother was very caring and attentive to my grandmother. This was love, respect and commitment to caring for her mother.
During my grandmother's illness, there was an ambulance driver I came to know. He would drive the ambulance to Little Rock for my grandmother's doctor visit at the hospital. My mother left me with the driver. We would sit and drink soda pop and wait. He would let me talk and I talked the whole time we were waiting. When the doctor visit was over, he would take us back home. I remember him being such a nice man, but I do not remember his name. Once he saw me playing down the street, he stopped his ambulance just to speak and hug me. This was love and respect of one of God's servants.
When my grandmother died, I remember that I was sitting on my mother's lap at the funeral and fell on the floor when she cried for the loss of her mother. I hurt when I saw that Mama was hurting, and I began to cry also. This love and respect, shown by my Mama for her mother, ignited a fire in me for my mother.
Mama Loved Her Children
I always liked being my mother's BABY. I thought that Mama was partial to me, but I later learned that she loved each of her children and respected each one's individuality. Our happiness and well-being were Mother's number one priority.
I remember that my older brother's friend came over to the house one day and my mother was wearing shorts. The boys told my brother that my mother was pretty and looked good in those shorts. Now, my brother was upset at the boys for looking at his mother and was slightly embarrassed. So, he asked Mama not to wear shorts. She said OK. She was true to her word. I never saw her wear shorts after that.
Mama Loved to Play
Mama loved to have fun with us. We raised chickens. To kill the chickens, Papa would just wring the chicken's head. Mama would tie a string on the chicken's neck and on the chicken's feet. Someone would hold the neck string, and someone would hold the feet string. Then Mama would chop the head off the chicken and the chicken's body would jerk on the ground. Mama knew that we were afraid of killing the chicken. One day she said something about how the chicken would not die and she started running after us. We ran from her screaming and she ran behind us. Our neighbors laughed because they knew Mama was playing with us.
On another occasion, the next-door neighbor thought that my brother broke his window. The neighbor started chasing my brother down the street. Mama ran behind the neighbor yelling "Don't hit my son!" The neighbor's wife ran behind Mama yelling "Don't you touch that boy." Again, the neighbors were laughing, and we were too.
Hit by a Car
I was hit by a car at Townsend Park. I was crossing the road in the park. I stopped, and the car stopped. I started, and the car started. The third time I started to cross, I just knew the car would stop. Well, the driver probably thought that since I stopped twice, I would stop the third time. The car hit me and knocked me across the road.
I was told not to move. An ambulance was called. People were trying to get in touch with my mother. She was at work. I think a couple of people called her. One told her one thing, and another told her another thing, and finally someone told her I had been seriously injured. The ambulance driver was told where my mother worked so he could pick her up on the way to the hospital. When the ambulance got there, my mother was climbing out the window. She told me that one person said I was hurt bad and another person said he thought I was unconscious. She was so nervous by the time we got there that she could not find the door to get out, so she opened the window and climbed out.
It was so funny watching my mother climb out the window. I started to laugh. When she looked for me and saw me laughing, she also started to laugh. She was so relieved to see that I was not seriously hurt. Years later, when I think about her love for me, I laugh at her humor and realize how blessed I am to have so much love.
You Can't Whip the BABY!!!
I loved the fact that I was the BABY! I am the youngest of my mother's children. I think that I was just a little bit spoiled. My mother had four children: my oldest brother, my sister, my younger brother, and then me.
I loved being the baby of the family. I usually was good because I liked to get compliments rather than any negative attention. I never liked being on punishment.
One day I did something I should not have done. My mother asked me, and I admitted that I had did it. She then said that I was going to get spanked (a whipping which I never liked even though I can count the punishments I received when I was young.) When my mother said that she was going to whip me, I looked at her and said, "You can't whip me." "What did you say?" she asked. I repeated, "You can't whip me. I am the BABY!" Her answer to me was, "I will show you."
She gave me a few licks and I was crying so loudly, almost screaming, that everyone on the block heard me. Now, I must note here that she was using a cloth belt that did not really hurt me physically. What hurt me was the fact that I did not think that she should whip the BABY!
My mother explained that I did something that was wrong; and most important was that I did something I knew was wrong but did it anyway. She said that when you do something wrong, you must pay the consequences. If she allowed me to do wrong and did not punish me, someone would sooner or later; and that someone, more than likely, would hurt me much more than she would. She said, "You must take responsibility for what you do. For every bad action, there is a consequence that you will not like." Since I knew it was wrong and did it anyway, I had to pay the consequence of that bad action. Well, since I told her that I would not do it again, maybe she should have waited to see what my consequence was. That way I would not have two bad reactions to my one action. She said, "That is exactly what I am going to do - give you the reaction to your bad action now."
I cried and told my mother I loved her and would not do wrong again because I still did not like whippings. I was a good child, but imperfect. I did typical things children do but I never wanted to do anything that would embarrass my mother. Looking back, my mother was very smart. Most of us will think, when we remember the silly/dumb things we did, that we really were not very smart. Our parents knew us better that we knew ourselves. Later in life, I would observe my children and realize they were thinking of asking or doing something that may be a silly/dumb thing. I recognized the "thinking look" that my mother was aware when she studied my face.
Once my cousin tried to talk me into going somewhere without permission. She said we could have fun for hours and the whipping only lasted for a few minutes. Usually, me and another cousin would do things together. Mainly, because we were the same age, liked some of the same things, and we were a little slower and naïve than the others. Now, my aunt did not whip my cousins with a cloth belt like my mother. It was not the pain of the whipping but the realization that I was disappointing my mother.
I tried to remember that lesson when it came to making decisions whether I should or should not do something. Her punishment was easily forgotten but the idea of displeasing my mother stayed with me all my life.
The Wave
My Mother had a way of waving goodbye to me as I became a teenager. She would wave her hand left and right instead of up and down.
She said, "It is alright for your skirt to move left and right but do not move it up and down. There are so many wonderful things in your childhood that you must experience and enjoy before growing up. Don't grow up too fast!!!"
She said that I would think that I was in love many times before I would really find true love. In one year, I would not even remember his name or what I liked about him, but I would remember what I disliked about him.
She would always say that life if full of beautiful and ugly people, good and bad memories, good and bad choices, but once you make the decision to grow up too fast, you cannot take it back. Enjoy your youth, grow according to your personality (some grow up slowly and some grow up fast). Don't rush your life!!! I never told my friends why Mama waved left to right. It was my constant reminder whenever I left home.
Dream!!! Most young girls dream of college, getting married and having children. I always wanted to be a teacher and have two children. I never became a teacher. I married before I finished college. I am so happy that I never gave up my dream of a college degree, so I went back to college many times until I finished. I received an Associate Degree, a Bachelor of Science Degree and a Paralegal Certificate. Whenever I encountered difficulties in my working, school and family life, I remembered what my mother said. Her wave said take pride in yourself as a young lady; do not allow anyone to take advantage of you. Trust your heart! You will see the "real" person if you 'really' look/ observe that person. Learn to never jump into hasty situations. I understand what my mother meant by waiting to grow up. I have always been a "child at heart" and enjoy the simple pleasures of life. I will find something to laugh about daily. I can always laugh at myself!!! I will not be offended!
I moved to Chicago to live with my sister. I got a job at the phone company; met an old friend and got married. When I became pregnant with my first child, I called Mama and asked her to come to Chicago. Now, remember that I always was very close to my mother and did not want to have a baby without her being with me. Mama left her secure environment and moved to Chicago.
I am Thankful for the Wave!!!
CHAPTER 2
My Grandfather, Willie Turner
My maternal grandfather (Papa as everyone called him) was very special to me. He was always there for me. He truly loved me, and I truly love Papa!!!
We (my mother, sister, and two brothers) moved in Papa's house before I was born. Later when my grandmother got sick, my mother helped with her. When my grandmother died, we stayed on.
Papa was over 6 feet tall. He broke his leg at work and walked with a limp. To me, he seemed very, very tall! He had a very strong, heavy, husky masculine voice. He always had a pipe in his mouth whether the pipe had tobacco or not.
I was the youngest of my sister and brothers. I was the "Baby" and his "pet." He was old fashioned and unchangeable until I came along. As children, we could not play cards, dance, or play music. He referred to playing music as sounding like a "juke joint" or "barrel house" and would not allow us to play anything but church music, and that had to be played at a very low volume.
He always had a soft spot for me, probably because I was the only one that hung around him, hugging and kissing him, and singing and talking. I was an excessive talker who told everything. I would get on his knee and sing my childish songs to him, and he would tell me a story.
Papa's Truck
Papa had an old blue pickup truck. It had many dents and rusty spots. His usual speed never exceeded 15 or 20 mph like "a fast crawl."
One rainy day when I was in the 9th grade (I think), Papa came to school to pick me up. I saw his truck. The children teased me about how slow he drove. I did not want the kids to see me ride home in that "slow truck" so I slipped out the side door. He came home much later. He never said a word. He had waited in front of the school about 15 minutes before bell to about 15 minutes after bell. He never came to pick me up after that. I had hurt my grandfather. I felt ashamed of my grandfather's slow truck. How could I hurt such a wonderful man?
Days passed, and no rain was in the forecast. Papa continued to be loving toward me. I tried to be nicer to him. One morning I went into Papa's room before I left for school. I said "Papa, it looks like rain today. If it rains today, will you come pick me up?" He looked up and said, "Baby, do you want me to pick you up?" I said, "Sure Papa. You don't want your baby to get wet, do you?" He smiled, the biggest smile, "No, I don't ever want my baby to get wet." I kissed him and happily went to school.
That day it rained. His truck was first in line. I ran happily to his truck, got in and kissed him, and off we went home.
I felt so good!!! I never wanted to hurt my grandfather ever again!!!
Papa loved me so much he did not want me to get wet when it rained. His priority was protecting me. I did not know what priority I had? But, I learned never take a person for granted. The reward for loving another person is reciprocated love and respect. I know I had a great grandfather who loved me dearly. When someone loves you dearly and is willing to protect you and take care of you, that person should receive your love and respect as his is given to you. I truly loved Papa!!! Now, I knew that I truly respected Papa!!! I still feel his love today!!!
The Golden Rule
Papa used to say that there is one rule I must learn and always practice: "Do unto others as you wish them to do unto you." (Matthew 7:12 KJV) He said that if you keep your heart filled with love, you will not have room for hate. But, if you decide there is someone that you want to hate, think about your choice. Don't choose to hate! Choose to love!! Your hatred for that person does not affect that person's life but it will leave a negative effect on your life. When someone does wrong toward you, that is that person's sin. However, when someone does wrong to you and you reciprocate by doing something wrong to that person, you have sinned also. That takes me back to Papa's "devil take it" saying.
Devil Take It
Papa worked at a lumber company. He broke his leg which left him with a limp. If you remember the TV show "The Real McCoy's" staring Walter Brennan. He had a limp and when he walked fast the limp was even more pronounced. That was how Papa walked. If he was angry or in a hurry to go somewhere, he walked very fast.
When Papa got angry about something, he would stump around the house saying "Devil take it. Devil take it." I asked him why he kept saying "Devil take it. Devil take it." He told me that negative, angry emotions are choices that we make. He chose to give them to the devil. So, whenever these negative thoughts come into his mind, he told the devil to take them because he did not to want them.
