I've written about my dad's family ties and the curse a couple of times, but my mom's family may really have one. There were eight siblings who survived to adulthood. The oldest has polio, the next died from multiple sclerosis, the third has spasmodic dysphonia (like Diane Rehm), the fourth has chronic back problems, the fifth (the aunt who just died) had cerebral palsy, my mom died of lymphoma, the next has Parkinson's and the last one has severe complications from the ravages of substance abuse. And let me just say they're all saints. I've never heard one of them complain. Never seen anything but smiles and hugs.
This aunt was really a piece of work, though. She was 68 and she wasn't even expected to live into her teens. She had cerebral palsy and lived her whole life in a wheelchair. What I remember from my youthful visits was her crossword mania, encyclopedic knowledge of all genres of music from 1960-1975, incessant smoking and moments when the quiet was punctured by a spastic shudder or kick. But her affliction wasn't genetic. It was man made.
My grandparents lived way out in northwest Oklahoma and medical care is scarce out there even now, but in 1938 with the Dust Bowl at gale force, there was, for all intents and purposes, none to be found. The midwives from a local church (which I will not name) made all the deliveries in their area. This is one of those off the radar type churches which hold among their tenets a refusal to seek medical care.
So when the time came to deliver, my grandpa summoned the midwife. When she arrived she got really agitated and said that God told her the baby wasn't ready yet. Some or another prophecy was at play. So she left the baby partially delivered in the birth canal - nearly a whole day by time it was all over with. I've talked to people in the medical know about this and most believe that the umbilical cord was wrapped around my aunt's neck or something rather common like that and the midwife was probably too inexperienced and panicked or something. My grandpa was so angry that he yelled at the midwife and told her to leave his house and he followed her down the road on foot screaming at her for what she'd done.
He swore he'd never enter a church again. And he damn well didn't. Every wedding picture I have of those kids shows them cutting the cake in the farmhouse kitchen. Which was all well and good because the elders of the church all got together after he'd let fly on the midwife and decided to curse him. Unfortunately, no one could or would tell me what exactly the curse was. All I know is that it really did scare him for the rest of his life.
Here's the clan, except for the yet-born last child. My mom is doing her Home Alone impression (hands on her face) and the aunt in question is the ragdoll in the foreground ( click for larger):
Also there was som discussion of wanting to see me in a suit. Here goes:
1 comment:
That is one fine lookin' suit. But if I was to photoshop that suit into a dress, I'd be staring into the face of Killer!
Post a Comment