REACHING OUT TO GRASP LIFE
I was born to two mothers Dorothy and Blanche. Both were present at my birth but it was Blanche who saw me reach out, ready to grasp life in this new environment. Dorothy was too preoccupied with the immediate after effects of having given birth to witness my first adventure.
When the doctor reached down to cut my umbilical cord, I reached up and grabbed the scissors so tightly that I swung through the air as the doctor raised his hand. He lowered his hand to the other side of Dorothy as I continued to cling tenaciously to the makeshift trapeze. I could have adopted as my theme song, "Oh, she floats through the air with the greatest of ease, the daring young babe on the flying trapeze . . .."
That I was given the abundance of two mothers had to do with my unexpected conception when Dorothy was 16. It was more than usual unexpectedness. I might very well claim to have been born of a virgin because Dorothy never changed her story about conceiving me without having had intercourse. She had little direct comprehensive sex education and was totally astonished to discover she was pregnant. Her definition of intercourse apparently included disrobing and lying down. She hadn’t done either, so how had she become pregnant? She continued denying having done anything that could have resulted in pregnancy when she died at age 98. She came to live with me after she turned 90 and was finally able to say, "Something happened!"
The equally puzzled 16-year-old expectant father, whom I can write about only by hearsay because I never met him, denied responsibility for this side effect of kissing and touching on the stairway leading up to the second floor boarding house Dorothy’s mother ran in downtown Williamson, West Virginia. Dorothy did tell me Walton had told her he was uncomfortable walking home after previous times together and that she had let him get a little closer in her compassion for his comfort. Compassion for him began at the funeral of his father, a policeman killed in a shooting while on active duty. I feel I was conceived as a result of her compassion and his passion.
It was my conception so I feel I can speculate freely on how that tiny sperm overcame serious obstacles in moving along to a waiting egg. There may have been a leap of faith if Dorothy was correct in saying they were merely very close. Whatever happened, I can assume my connection to such a strong, lucky, faith-filled sperm has been realized in my life. More importantly, being reared by Blanche deserves much of the credit for my character development.
Blanche was the oldest of Beulah's nine children, four of which lived to adulthood. Dorothy was the seventh, born when Blanche was seventeen years old and already married. So, Blanche was a second mother to Dorothy, taking Dorothy, nicknamed "Dot," into her home many times all through Dorothy's childhood. Blanche unhappily childless was, therefore, thirty three when Dorothy's pregnancy became known, and called "Dibs!" on me. Dibs is my word for Blanche's telling Dorothy, "Brownie and I will take care of you and the baby for as long as you want, but if you ever leave, you can’t take the baby with you."
Dorothy felt compelled to agree. After I was born, the four of us lived together: Blanche, Dorothy, John Wesley Brown, and I. When I was eleven months old, we moved from Williamson to Portsmouth, Ohio, where Brownie had found a better job. People in Portsmouth assumed I had been born to Blanche and it seemed so simple to live as though that was true. My last name became Brown with no formal adoption taking place. When I was almost two years old, Dorothy married Carroll Pyles, known as "Kay," and went to live with him. Blanche finally had a child of her own. This was very much to my advantage because my personality is such that Blanche was a more appropriate mother for me.
Near the end of Dorothy's life, when I was a widow and took her into my home, Dorothy and I would talk about our childhood memories and each of us talked about our relationship with Blanche as our mother. Although I had gone through most of my life as Dorothy's niece, she and I ended up feeling like sisters.
Leaving me behind was so traumatic for Dorothy that Carroll deliberately got her pregnant early in the marriage and their daughter, Pat, was born just before I was three. They had a son, Jack, three years after that. We thought of ourselves as cousins until Dorothy told them when I was forty years old I was their sister.
I was born to two mothers Dorothy and Blanche. Both were present at my birth but it was Blanche who saw me reach out, ready to grasp life in this new environment. Dorothy was too preoccupied with the immediate after effects of having given birth to witness my first adventure.
When the doctor reached down to cut my umbilical cord, I reached up and grabbed the scissors so tightly that I swung through the air as the doctor raised his hand. He lowered his hand to the other side of Dorothy as I continued to cling tenaciously to the makeshift trapeze. I could have adopted as my theme song, "Oh, she floats through the air with the greatest of ease, the daring young babe on the flying trapeze . . .."
That I was given the abundance of two mothers had to do with my unexpected conception when Dorothy was 16. It was more than usual unexpectedness. I might very well claim to have been born of a virgin because Dorothy never changed her story about conceiving me without having had intercourse. She had little direct comprehensive sex education and was totally astonished to discover she was pregnant. Her definition of intercourse apparently included disrobing and lying down. She hadn’t done either, so how had she become pregnant? She continued denying having done anything that could have resulted in pregnancy when she died at age 98. She came to live with me after she turned 90 and was finally able to say, "Something happened!"
The equally puzzled 16-year-old expectant father, whom I can write about only by hearsay because I never met him, denied responsibility for this side effect of kissing and touching on the stairway leading up to the second floor boarding house Dorothy’s mother ran in downtown Williamson, West Virginia. Dorothy did tell me Walton had told her he was uncomfortable walking home after previous times together and that she had let him get a little closer in her compassion for his comfort. Compassion for him began at the funeral of his father, a policeman killed in a shooting while on active duty. I feel I was conceived as a result of her compassion and his passion.
It was my conception so I feel I can speculate freely on how that tiny sperm overcame serious obstacles in moving along to a waiting egg. There may have been a leap of faith if Dorothy was correct in saying they were merely very close. Whatever happened, I can assume my connection to such a strong, lucky, faith-filled sperm has been realized in my life. More importantly, being reared by Blanche deserves much of the credit for my character development.
Blanche was the oldest of Beulah's nine children, four of which lived to adulthood. Dorothy was the seventh, born when Blanche was seventeen years old and already married. So, Blanche was a second mother to Dorothy, taking Dorothy, nicknamed "Dot," into her home many times all through Dorothy's childhood. Blanche unhappily childless was, therefore, thirty three when Dorothy's pregnancy became known, and called "Dibs!" on me. Dibs is my word for Blanche's telling Dorothy, "Brownie and I will take care of you and the baby for as long as you want, but if you ever leave, you can’t take the baby with you."
Dorothy felt compelled to agree. After I was born, the four of us lived together: Blanche, Dorothy, John Wesley Brown, and I. When I was eleven months old, we moved from Williamson to Portsmouth, Ohio, where Brownie had found a better job. People in Portsmouth assumed I had been born to Blanche and it seemed so simple to live as though that was true. My last name became Brown with no formal adoption taking place. When I was almost two years old, Dorothy married Carroll Pyles, known as "Kay," and went to live with him. Blanche finally had a child of her own. This was very much to my advantage because my personality is such that Blanche was a more appropriate mother for me.
Near the end of Dorothy's life, when I was a widow and took her into my home, Dorothy and I would talk about our childhood memories and each of us talked about our relationship with Blanche as our mother. Although I had gone through most of my life as Dorothy's niece, she and I ended up feeling like sisters.
Leaving me behind was so traumatic for Dorothy that Carroll deliberately got her pregnant early in the marriage and their daughter, Pat, was born just before I was three. They had a son, Jack, three years after that. We thought of ourselves as cousins until Dorothy told them when I was forty years old I was their sister.
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