My Daughter and I went to see... Jean. She was sitting in her carport when we drove up. I almost didn't recognize her! I've never seen her so dark, her hair so a mess, her nails so un-manicured, her clothes so dirty. But as soon as she spoke, I recognized her voice. It had not changed in all these years.
My Daughter stayed in the car while I got out and walked up to her to determine if it was indeed her. Not knowing how to address, I decided to call her what I last called her over 30 years ago, "Mother".
She leaned forward and scowled at me and said, "What?"
I repeated my inquiry, "Mother?"
She said, "Mother! No. No, I'm no body's mother."
I asked if she recognized me and she said she did not. I asked if she knew who I was and she shook her head no and said that she did not.
We then focused on getting her dog to stop barking at me and I asked if it was Gretchen (she typically named her red females, Gretchen or Sugie and the black male dachshunds, Blackie or Junior). She said no, that her boy dog was Punkin. I looked at her and she at me. Then I said, "I'm JeNene" (long story, not for now). She asked who and I repeated the name. She repeated it after me and slowly I saw recognition come in her eyes. She remembered the name, but looked at me doubtfully as to whether I could be her. After eyeing me suspiciously, she rocked back in her chair and laughed saying, "JeNene! I was just talking about her yesterday to ol' Punkin, here, wasn't I boy. JeNene and ol'... ol'..." she snapped her fingers to help her memory, I offered, "Eddie."
"Yes! That's it, Eddie! I was telling ol' Punkin, here that I wonder what ever became of ol' JeNene and Eddie."
She kept apologizing for having no chair to offer me. I assured her that it was okay, I'd be fine without one. Then I approached her, put my arm around her stooped shoulders (I remember she used to always say, "Stand up straight, JeNene! Do you want people to think you're ignorant? Only ignorant people slump their shoulders.") and said, "I need to tell you that I am sorry that I have shut you out of my life for so long. I was wrong to do that."
She looked a little uncomfortable and said, "Yes. It has been a long time."
Then she told me about her dog, Punkin, again. I asked her if she wanted to meet my Daughter and returned to the car to invite her to get out. She and I stood around in Jean's carport for an hour hearing about Punkin, she bragged about how much money she had in the bank, and told the story of her carport being built several times during that hour. I'm not sure she was ever completely convinced that I was JeNene because when I referred to Grandpa, she seemed confused as to who I was talking about and finally asked me if I was talking about her Daddy.
She seemed very impressed with fountain drinks but doesn't seem to know that that's what they are called. Because when I asked her if she ever got out much she told me she pays her neighbor $20 to take her to town for groceries then they drive clear across town to a little place that serves the best drinks in a cup, 'yeah tall' (gesturing with her fingers the size of the cup) that has crushed ice, a lid and a straw - but with each item, struggled for what to call it. I say she seemed impressed with those because she told us about those drinks more than anything else she repeated in that hour.
On the ride home, my Daughter said that she felt it was a blessing that Jean doesn't seem to remember much - maybe it means she doesn't remember any of the bad stuff. And I'm okay with that. I don't need for her to know how much damage she did to me... I've forgiven her... and today, though I tried to bless her, I'm not sure I really did. I reminded her of the things I knew about her like her ballroom dancing, western dancing, expert marksmanship for shooting, etc. She seemed to blush like a little girl and giggled.
Before leaving I asked if she would allow me to write to her. She said she would like that. I think I would like that, too.
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