Family Thoughts

Further excerpts from my hospital journal...

Note: The names used in my journal are not the true names of the individuals.

November 10, 1957:

Thinking further of "someone to watch over me", I came to the conclusion that if my brother walked through the door right now I would feel nothing but love and joy at seeing him again, for when I was a child he and Dad were the prefect models of what men should be. And, in spite of all that they did which can merit only criticism and shame in the eyes of society, I still feel that all men should be like them. Aside from their maleness, their looks, their manners, they each had the same quality of poorly disguised tenderness and compassion so very dear to me, but so very hated by them, because, I suppose they felt it to be "unmanly".

In addition to this quality, they had such fine minds with such great potential that went untapped. I shall always regret the briefness of the period when my brother and I were disposed to talk with one another. It was after I returned from New Orleans and lasted until my baby was born. How easily, how fluently we talked on any subject that we wanted.

November 11, 1957:

Oh, well, on to other things. Just for something to do, I've started posting a "Thought for the Day" in verse form on my nightstand. The first one grew out of the ridiculous bell they have given me to summon a nurse with. I already wrote about that one. And I've thought of a few more.

To a Heat Lamp

That one came to me as I was lying with my incision bared to a heat lamp. They seem to think it might help get rid of the infection and speed up the healing.

Silly, I know, but they're fun to do and help to pass the time away. I told the doctor today that I would prefer not to spend Christmas here. He agreed that it was a dismal thought and promised to keep it in mind, but would not commit himself any further.

I've been reading over this journal and have come to a rather terrifying conclusion. What a completely selfish thing it is...all about me. Well, perhaps that's not so bad as I think, for are not each of us entitled to a small corner somewhere where we can just withdraw to be us? By day and night I have to be one person...mother to my son, friend to my friends, gal who had a tough break but is being terribly sporting about it! Always gay, always brave, always the smart one with the wise remark. But when I don't want to be that anymore I can open up my little black notebook and write down some of the things I'm really thinking. Years from now, when this is all over, it will be fun to read this over and remember it all. I only hope that when that day comes, I will somehow be better for having been through it all. Surely this is the good that can come from pain and suffering...a sense of compassion and empathy.

November 12, 1957:

Thought for the day...

To a Thermometer

November 13, 1957:

Thought for the day...

Query

November 14, 1957:

Thought for the day...

Remembrance of Things Past

I have been spending a great deal of time these last few days in writing letters and poems and reading books. Such a luxurious life! How glad I am that I have finally accepted this whole situation and decided to make the best of it. I bet I'll start making much more rapid progress now.

Yesterday was visitors' day for me. Honestly, days and days go by when not a soul comes to see me and then they all show up on the same day. My son came in after school, looking like a walking mushroom in his yellow slicker. He could only stay a few minutes, as Mrs. Cartwright didn't know he was stopping. We had a nice visit and plenty of "lovin's", then he moved on.

Lucille dropped in for a few minutes after work and we gabbed like two magpies. Then Frank Montgomery came in after she left and we had a grand time swapping stories about our kids. Connie came in during the evening, bringing roses, violets and some darling little "ballet dancers", which her mother made for me out of hollyhock blossoms. She took my poem "Stella Nostrum" and is going to type it up and send it to the Journal for me. If they print it I'll be so proud!

Last night, as I lay awake listening to the wind and the rain I composed a letter and poem to sent to the gang at the County Schools office, so I am going to write it down this morning before I forget it.

A line from a song that Frank Sinatra is currently making popular keeps going through my head..."when somebody loves you, it's no good unless he loves you -- all the way.".

November 15, 1957

Thought for the day...

Breakfast Afterthought