Catherine Sevenau's Blog: Writings~Rambles~Rhymes, page 35

3.25 “Listen, Dearie”

Southern California ~ Larry phoned a week later and asked Betty what she’d heard about Mother. “How would I know?” Betty retorted. “I haven’t called.” “Call the hospital! Right now! Find out!” Betty got the head nurse on the phone, identified herself as Noreen Clemens’ daughter, and asked, “Is she dead yet?” “No. Actually, your mother […]

3.24 The Hillman Minx

Southern California ~ Mother attempted suicide like clockwork, usually with pills and alcohol and always next to a hospital or police station so someone could rescue her in time. Carleen no longer took the calls to come get her, so Larry, now living in Carmel, got the call from Loma Linda, a teaching hospital 400 […]

3.23 Purgatory

1960s • La Habra ~ Mom sometimes rotated between Betty’s and Claudia’s, but their welcome mats finally wore out. Larry wouldn’t deal with living with her because she smoked and he didn’t want her smoking around their new baby. Carleen was the one who took her in when she had no place else to go. […]

3.22 “You Writin’ a Book?”

1960s • La Habra ~ The women in my family are not victims, however, we do come from a long line of martyrs, and our mother learned from the best. With her bromides she nagged my oldest sister like a scolding fishwife. “You’ve made your bed… ,” Mom’s voice withered, then she’d snidely remind Carleen that that’s […]

3.21 “Chu-uck”

1960s • La Habra ~ My brother-in-law—a jug-eared, skinny 6’4” guy with a dark flattop, a two-day-old shadow, and an Elvis Presley lip—worked as the night foreman at National Tapered Wings. Over the years Chuck built airplane parts for Lockheed, Boeing, and Gulfstream. When his cousin opened his own aerospace parts business, Chuck joined him, working with […]

3.20 Simon Legree

1960 • La Habra ~ A letter to my father: Dear Daddy, I don’t want to live with Carleen any more. I am taking the bus to come stay with you. Please pick me up at the Greyhound station this Saturday. Please. Carleen is mean, and she doesn’t really love me. She just wants me here to […]

3.19 The Furies

1960 • La Habra ~ Debbie, Randy, and I had daily chores. We made our beds, cleaned our bathroom, and fixed our breakfast. We vacuumed, swept, and dusted. I helped with dinner. Debbie set the plates and Randy got out the silverware. After dinner I washed the dishes, Debbie dried, and Randy put away the […]

3.18 Gus the Helms Man

1960 • La Habra ~ The Fuller Brush man, the Good Humor man, and the Helms man were regulars in our neighborhood. I loved the Helms man. I loved anybody who brought food around. Bow-tied Gus Gustavito drove slowly up our street, a distinctive hoot-hoot tooting his daily arrival. His mustard-yellow 1962 Chevy panel truck […]

3.17 Queen of Hearts

1960 • La Habra ~ My sisters drank pot after pot of Folgers and smoked pack after pack of filters, complaining the whole time how crappy their hands were, bad-mouthing Mother, and bitching about their husbands. I was clear I didn’t like coffee or cigarettes, clear I was not going to grow up and be […]

3.16 Smoke Gets in Your Eyes 1960s

Early 1960s • La Habra ~ Sequestered by the murky outline of the San Gabriel Mountains, Orange County had constant smog alerts, sometimes the air so awful they closed the schools. Everyone was told to stay inside; outside was smothered in a pea soup of haze so dense that not even a Santa Ana wind […]