If anybody should have a hang-up, you would think I would. It may sound like a joke from a stand-up comic, but my folks actually moved twice without telling me! The first time, I was 16 and had been away on the short trip from Blackwell to Tulsa to see the Ice Capades with my boyfriend and his brother's family, spending the night in Pawhuska at my sister's house on the way home. When Howard took me home that day, the house was empty!
Like most teenagers, I hadn't been paying much attention to what was going on around home, caught up as I was in my own world. I knew they had been talking about moving, but I didn't realize it would be then! I hoped I would find them at a house they'd been considering, and thankfully, there they were.
The next time, I was married with two little ones, and we had decided to move to Independence, Kansas, where I would attend college and be close to Mama and Daddy and other family members. We had discussed our plans with them, packed our few belongings in our loaded car, and arrived late at night, expecting to stay with them for a few days until we got settled. Guess what! The house was dark, and as we could see upon closer inspection, vacant! After checking at my brother's, we found them in an unfamiliar area of town and piled in on them (they still had three teenage boys at home).
Another time I had been gone on a school trip, and when I walked with my girlfriend to her house where someone was to meet me, the girl's mother called out to me in the dark, callously announcing, "Dale died! Your folks have gone to Pauline's house in Sapulpa." I was stunned! Grief stricken at the news of my brother-in-law Dell's death, I got a ride to my house and of course, found no one. I could only think to go to my newly-wed brother's apartment (turns out he was supposed to meet me, but he fell asleep) until the family was reunited, along with my grieving sister the next day. Talk about traumatic!
Mama was not unfeeling, she was just distracted a lot and a victim of hardship. When I was younger, my oldest married sister persuaded her to let me stay with her and attend school, which I did at least three times during my school days. Mama had her hands full with seven boys, and I was delighted to be the center of attention at my sister's house. They had luxuries like electricity, running water, and school supplies. I don't remember missing my parents much, but I was always happy to return home.
I was homesick for my family my entire married life, living 500 miles away and only seeing them twice a year. My parents loved our kids and welcomed them warmly on vacations, the stress of raising their own family behind them. I know it says in the Bible "Would a mother forget her child?" and then, though the answer may be yes, we are told He will never forget us. It must have hurt my mother when we were separated those times when I was little, for she was always bringing me home prematurely. I was blessed, along with my sister, to be able to take care of Mama in her last years. And I have a keepsake: years of letters she wrote to me when we didn't live close. It's true. God never forgets us!
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