Random, Thoughts, X,XXIV

#32,391
#32,391
Sixty three. They shot President Kennedy. At school, the adults were crying. They herded the kids into an Episcopal chapel. Father Saucy kept us from becoming hysterical, intoning in his rumbling baritone voice. We assembled outside to be picked up by arriving parents. Some of us slightly older kids were paired with younger ones to calm them while we waited. Our beloved grounds keeper was openly weeping while he lowered the flag to half mast. A smartly dressed woman with a Jackie hairstyle and shades got out of a gull wing Mercedes to retrieve her daughter, whose hand I was holding. Streaks of mascara were on her cheeks below her sunglasses. My father picked up my brother and me. My mother was a wreck and unable to drive. My sisters were confused and scared. That evening, my dad didn’t ask me to make his martinis. He made them himself. My mother stayed in her room for two days.
 
#32,400
#32,400
Dirt and I were just innocent children, the best of friends. Mother Nature was suspicious of me. Given my gender, she felt that she knew who and how I would become. She separated us by shipping Dirt off the boarding school. I ached from her absence.
 
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