Corralling *The Little Pirate* (or why mothers turn grey)

(Elinor Frances Stewart Huskey July 31, 1923- August 30, 1990)

Yes, that is me with my poor mother hanging on for dear life. We were on board the U.S.S. Patch, headed for our station in Germany in the mid-sixties. And why is she holding so tightly to that Little Pirate??? Because I had a tendency to run as fast as my fat little legs could go and jump! I had this thing about water (still do, though I swim atrociously!) and if someone didn't nearly have me on a leash, I'd be in it.
And I couldn't swim.
No fear. Or maybe it was no brains. ;-)
Mother spent her life trying to reel me in, all the while I was pulling hard, trying to reel myself out. I think the expression says it all......no smile, no cooperating, no giving in, just pure determination. No wonder she wanted me to join a convent, to keep me out of trouble! And seriously, I considered it for a good while, but it was that *unquestioning obedience* part that steered me away.
I learned a lot from her; cooking, embroidery, we had a few vain attempts at knitting until I taught myself. I remember wash day with the laundry baskets lined with plastic from the cleaners, holding the starched, damp and rolled clothing, awaiting the iron. Everything was so fresh afterwards!
I managed to ruin many dresses with bouquets of dandelions for mother; the milk from the stems leaving a trail of brown dots across the cotton........mom would patiently embroider little Lazy-Daisies on each stain, with French Knots in the middle, thus making the dress fit to wear again.
I thought it was tres cool.......it wasn't until I was an adult that I realized she did this because we did not have the money to buy new clothing at the rate I buzzed through my wardrobe. In fact, I was well protected from the fact that due to monthly military pay, at the end of each month, my folks were counting pennies to make it to the next paycheck.
While I was highly encouraged in art, dance and music by mom, I was crushed and disillusioned when, my senior high school year, ready for college and planning on an art degree, I discovered that it was not happening. My god-parents controlled my college fund and they would only agree to what they chose for me to do. Me? An anchor person on some local news broadcast? Give me a break!!!! (or just take a look at that face in the picture....says it all....)
And so, that was the end of a lot of dreams and hopes and the beginning of a tremendous amount of really bad behaviour and being a rebellious little stink in general.
Maybe that is why there is only one photo with this post---because those were still the happy years, without my aunt and uncle involved in our lives, and mom and I were good friends. Maybe it is normal for a daughter to revolt against her mother at some point, to try and leave the nest. Maybe I just like this sweet memory, and the pic really expresses my disposition du jour, or even now. Too determined, too inflexible. Certain of where I am going despite warning.
No matter...........rest peacefully mother.
I turned out okay...............more or less.

Pax.