Chapter 66. Companions

Card from George to Adeline

“Your task is not to seek for love, 

but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself 

that you have built against it.” 

- Jalaluddin Rumi

I’m more aware now than ever that I didn’t know my dad and mom well. Going through Mom’s possessions as we clear out her hope chest and home in September 2016, we find love letters from Dad, and other special mementoes. I get a glimpse into different dynamics in their relationship, and unknown sides of their persons.

·         Items in the boxes in the garage exposed that as a tween Mom garnished a Yellow Medicine County Fair “First Premium” award at age 13 for her penmanship; that in high school Mom took a shorthand course, earned a journalism pin (she did always enjoy reading newspapers), and was interested in politics and people.

"There is a difference"

     In his late teens and early 20s Dad earned a certificate in produce operation, admired Billy Graham’s ability to preach and draw crowds, enjoyed the challenge of investment as he raised chinchillas. Years later his entrepreneurialism showed up as he entered into retail pharmacy with the purchase and remodel of Storm Lake Drug in the late 1960s and early 1970s, as he took on the distributorship of Icy Hot in 1975, and as he ventured into being the local pharmacist for the rural small towns of Alta and Aurelia. Dad had an edgy sense of humor, as evidenced by advertising slogans of “Let George do it” and a picture on the back of a Honsbruch Drug bowling shirt showing two children looking into their pants (Dad would say "booksas") and captioned “There is a difference.”

Adeline & George, in love

·         Love letters reveal deep affection between Mom and Dad, that I never got to witness. It makes some sense that I didn’t: they were many years into knowing each other before I became aware of relational dynamics, with lots of “water under the bridge.” My 14-year-old self has a vivid memory of an instance of relational difficulty. My sister Cindy and I were awakened from our Erie Street house basement bedrooms by Mom's yelling in the late night. We followed the sound upstairs and went into their bedroom. Mom was crying and loudly accusing Dad of infidelity, and threatening to leave him and take us kids away. Dad was lying in bed rather expressionlessly, saying nothing. Maybe he defended himself and I just don't recall? I was traumatized by the idea of mom leaving and family breakup, and fearful for many months.

·         The letters also expose insecurity on mom’s part, apologies on dad’s part –“I’m sorry I made you unhappy - I didn’t mean to. I wouldn’t hurt you for anything, honey.” Maybe that dynamic is not so unfamiliar to what I knew of mom and dad, and of women and men in general?

·         Travel pics, Christmas cards, evidences of fun at dances and card clubs divulge that they had and enjoyed their many friends.

On the 2^nd day of October 2016, upon making my last trip to load the car after a weekend alone at Mom’s house -- consisting of late nights and a long Saturday -- intensely sorting thousands of pictures, I glance again at the boxes remaining in the garage that need a going through and see more envelopes of pictures! 

Shoot – I thought I made it through the many piles of pictures. At the end of my energy I’m still curious and pull the box down to learn how many more picture packages remain. In culling through the box contents I spy an olive green leather-bound “Mile Stones, A Five Year Diary.” Thankfully, though latched it is not locked. 

Adeline, at home on the Just farm, 1953 or so

I bring the diary home and begin reading its contents. Especially during Mom’s 1953-1954 senior year of high school, that included the days when Mom and Dad became interested in each other, I am privileged to enter into the heart of young love.

Tender love is a facet of Mom that I hadn’t experienced previously, at least not often. I share a few sentences, not to invade her privacy, but to reveal the sentiments that all of us have had at some time, and to rejoice together in our common desire to connect deeply.

Only connect.  

- E.M. Forrster

George, freshman, St. Olaf College, 1951

A bit of context: Dad graduated from high school in 1951, went to St. Olaf College for the 1951-1952 academic year, and either didn’t think college had much to teach him or didn’t know what he wanted to pursue, so he didn't go back to St. Olaf after that freshman college year. Rather, at the time of Mom writing in her diary during fall of 1953, Dad/George had been working in Clarkfield for over a year at the family produce business, operating the reels at a local movie theater, painting, and driving bus (including Mom’s bus from farm to school). 

Some excerpts from Mom's diary:

-          Nov 20, 1953 – “I sat in a booth with George Appleseth and he asked me to dance. Had a wonderful time. He asked to take me home. He put his arms around me as soon as we left Monte. Oh his kisses are ideal. Oh do I like him. I’ve always wanted to go out with him.”

-          Nov 26, Thursday, Thanksgiving – “Thought a lot of George, but more of Carl I’m sure.”

-          Nov 29, Sunday – “Alfred came and asked me for a date. I was a fool to go but I did. Ate lunch alongside of Carl. How I wish I could go with him again. Oh, I don’t like Alfred.”

-          Nov 30, Monday – “Evening went to bed thinking of George. Oh I really really like him. I think of him and Carl and I can’t think straight.”

-          Dec 1, Tuesday – “Another day at school. All perfect especially since George is driving the bus. George asked me for a date for the evening. Rosella, Curt, George and I went to Dawson to the show “Houdini.” Was good – had a very good time with George. Made me mad he didn’t make another date again. Well will have to wait I suppose.”

Curt & Rosie, George?, Opal, Adeline

-          Dec 2, Wednesday – “George was teasing about how hard it was for him to get up. I sure think he’s wonderful.”

-          Dec 6, Sunday – “George called and asked if I wanted to go to the show in Marshall. Of course I said yes. Sure had a wonderful time. He made a date for Wednesday.”

-          Dec 7, Monday – “We sure have fun together. I really like him… Wonder what George is doing.”

-          Dec 8, Tuesday – “Didn’t get to see George all day. Miss him so.”

-          Dec 25, Friday – “George went to church with me. Had dinner here. Fooled around all afternoon, and evening we went to show in Monte. Had lots of fun. Am dreaming over my cashmere sweater from George, pink, beautiful. I love George so much. He asked me to marry him. I said yes.”

-          Dec 30, Wednesday – Evening George called about 7:30 and we went to Walt’s. Met his folks, watched TV, went home. George, I love him so much. Wish we could get married soon. We talked about our family, etc. Oh will it be fun to live with George.”

-          Dec 31, Thursday – “Carl doesn’t mean much to me anymore. I love George so much. Evening he came out at 7:30 and we went to church. After church we went to Opal and Donnie’s (watch TV and sure had fun). George’s resolution is to marry me. I love him madly. He kissed me at twelve and wished me a happy new year.”

-          Jan 30, 1954, Saturday – Evening George and I went to Monte saw “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” it stunk – course there is always my dearest darling to love.”

-          Jan 31, Sunday – “Evening the folks went to Monte, us girls skating. Sure had a good time as I made out with Carl. Oh well, I’d better leave him alone… I love George too much. Oh George I love you.”

-          Feb 3, Wednesday – “Didn’t get to see George today. I love him so much and wish I could be with him all the time. Wish we could get married now. I’d love a home and children with George around. George I love you darling, forever.”

Before she landed on her “Mr. Right” she was certainly open to -– even looking for -– relationship (I count seven different guys mentioned in a bit over a month’s span; some of them were talked about also in the months preceding the fall recordings below). 

Another treasure found in Mom’s belongings is an index card that records dates with guys (not even including George): a total of 203 over her high school years. A seemingly especially open time was late September into early November of 1953, in the days surrounding her 17^th birthday:

-          Sept 25 – “So happy today about Freddy. Oh I like him. The more I think the more I dislike Carl – Oh I think I love Freddy. Oh, he’s wonderful. I sure hope things turn out like I want them too.”

-          Oct 2 – “Vernon took us. Had a good time dancing with him but had more fun afterwards with him. He sure is a swell guy. Talked about everything imaginable.”

-          Oct 8 – “Arlen asked if I would go out with him. I still like him but it’s not the same. He sure gave me heck about Carl.”

-          Oct 10 – “I still like Freddy but I’m going to try to forget him.”

-          Oct 19 – “I sure like him (Dick) today…”

-          Oct 21 – “Sure had fun with Dick… sure like Carl yet, but I think Dick so blame nice.”

-          Nov 8 – “Leon asked me for a date for the evening, I said yes. I sure had a wonderful time with him…”

Her diary exposed other emotions as well: numerous statements of “did she ever make me mad” and a few I hates, e.g., “I hate Sig like everything.”

I’m a little perplexed: somehow I internalized messages of “never feel or express hate” and “it’s not okay to be mad.” 

Above all, be nice. 

Did those messages come from Mom or from somewhere else? Maybe from “society,” maybe from Mom? If those “be nice” messages came from Mom, possibly it was because she was more mature and had learned a level of emotional control by the time I was old enough to receive her maternal instructions, or because she needed to have us kids keep our feelings in tow? In any case, as a teen it seems she had access to those ‘negative’ sentiments, or at the least expressed them in her personal safe space of diary.

I hope that telling this story of mine may be a kind of peering into my life’s “diary” and possibly gift to my kids – as a permission to let them see into parts of my life that they maybe haven’t yet been privy to because I haven’t shared much of some aspects of self.

Most especially I haven’t easily revealed my darker side of anger and resentments, indulgences and indignities. But those aspects are also me. They are part of the real me.

I’m tempted to berate myself for not embracing the qualities of my parents that I found difficult: that I have labeled as critical or aloof and unavailable. 

I wish that I could have, while mom or dad was living, reframed and understood the qualities as other than harmful. I read that enneagram Ones need to let go of remorse and instead follow a path of self-forgiveness and acceptance of reality as it is, rather than criticizing or trying to improve it. So I will do that. I will forgive and accept, especially me. I can choose to see the good in me, and that enables me to see the good in all the people around me.

I see the good in Gregg too. At the start of our love relationship, for sure; now in our many years together, for sure; but even also in the midst of our storm – I had good reason to stay. He is a good man who works diligently, cares greatly, loves deeply -- at his work place, with family, in our relationship. 

He and I have weathered difficulties and come out the other side, recognizing the valuable in each other and the gems in our everyday. Of course, we still have disagreements and stuff to work through. But overall, we do well together. We call ourselves true companions (“our” songs include Phil Collin’s “Groovy Kind of Love” and Marc Cohn’s “True Companion”), and we are hugely appreciative to be able to cultivate good and find whatever is lovely, together.

If you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams
and you will always look lovely. 

– Roald Dahl