Category Archives: children

The Real Kind of BFF

This is the first in a series of birthday memories honoring the people who have made every year’s struggles easier and all the goodness more joyful!

In second grade my mom organized the very first of the only two organized birthday parties of my life
The second grade event was the typical affair with cake and ice cream; no one served meals back then
I had to bribe my friend Susan to come by promising to tell her where to sit to get the plate with the secret mark on it
There was a tour of the bakery facility for her Brownie troop the same day as my birthday party
The girl whose father owned the bakery promised she would get the most donuts, and Susan loved donuts
There is no recollection of the gifts I received or whether we played the clothespin game, but we probably did
I remember tiny red headed Maureen O’Connor crying because no one was paying attention to her
She sat in our front entryway threatening to go home, and soon I was pouting in a corner
My mom, who doesn’t like prima-donna behavior, even from a birthday girl, told me to behave and be a good hostess
Maureen won the “Guess How Many Jelly Beans in the Jar” game with my mom, oddly, very close at her side
My best friend Nancy, who also knew about me giving away the secret plate game to Susan, was sure it was a set up
When they call me this year, almost 40 years later, like they do every year on my birthday, I will see if they remember
Nancy still likes candy in big jars all over her kitchen, and Susan still loves donuts…their laughter…still the best gift!

Don’t Fence Me In

Don’t Fence Me In was a song we sang in Mrs. Nye’s music class in our Roman Catholic grade school
It was kind of an old fashioned song for seventh graders to be singing
I thought at the time
Maybe she felt fenced in with all the nuns and priests and the small paycheck
Teaching music to ungrateful school children who really wanted to sing
from Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors album
I liked that teacher though, as I liked most of the teachers from what is now called my middle school years
They were young and, I can now assume, probably desperate for their first teaching job,
They had bills to pay and families to support, and there we were,
our know-it-all smartass selves
Giving them a hard time and doing stupid things like putting Alka Seltzer in our mouths at recess
Our mouths foaming while we felt funny which gave us the mistaken belief we were brave
Having a group of seventh and eighth graders sing hokey songs they’d never forget,
that was brave
I find myself singing that song to myself sometimes, and it makes me happy, just like I’m some old cowboy on the open range
Maybe that music teacher knew that when we grew up, there was a strong chance we’d feel fenced in too

A Wish

If I wish really hard for something
Squinched up eyes shut in a whisper
Over and over sandwhiched between
Please oh please, God, pretty please
Wishing til’ it hurts. Will it work this time?

Mama says that life ain’t fair and no
Amount of silent hoping is gonna change
That wishes are just a bunch of tossed up
Dreams to God and he can only say yes
To so many. But if my heart’s in the right place?

Maybe last time I forgot to close my eyes, and
I didn’t capitalize God’s name in my thoughts
Or God is a lady and she’s mad I’ve been
Calling her father, But if God’s as nice as the priest
Says on Sundays, should all that matter?

I think that if God is a girl, like me, she’d
Understand better that my mama needs
My daddy to come back home now
That mamas need smiles on their faces
And if my wish gets a yes, I promise
I won’t ever ask for another thing, ever

Who Did That?

There is the hope for closeness
When they are adults and I am gone
Not standing by, suggesting or
Forcing it by demanding truces
Calling for ceasefires continually
The many verbal assaults that
Still sometimes end in giddy
Laughter over one or the other
Expelling a gaseous exchange
With the universe merrily shocking
Each others olfactory sensibility
And always the question of
Who did that? All three know
Without anyone admitting it
I smile knowing it is in these
Silly boy exchanges that their
Love is in the craziest of details

Magic

My cousin, 7, said the Easter bunny was a hoax
What is a hoax I wondered, a giant rabbit maybe

The boy behind me in the 2nd grade passed a note
It read, Only babies believe in Santa Claus, do you?

My brother, 11, said the tooth fairy didn’t lose her way
She may come tonight, he scoffed, but she isn’t real

Each time these truths were forced upon my ears
I grew up and was uncomfortable in my little girl heart

That little girl’s heart didn’t disappear for good, it lay
In wait to give what it could in the way of magic

Tucking secret presents under a tree, hiding candy filled
baskets, stealthily placing quarters under sleeping heads

Even if sometimes the magic isn’t what was expected
Maybe wasn’t quite the first choice, or even the second

Sometimes what isn’t real, those fairy dust creations
Make the uglier truths just a bit easier to bare, for both

If you tell me they are hoaxes, unreal, and only for babies
I will understand with my big girl brain that knows the truth

But my heart, beating as an aunt, and now as a mom
Will say those who don’t believe, don’t ever truly receive