THE DRAGON'S LEGACY
Summer ended slowly, melding itself softly into fall without wicked windy storms or freezing temperatures.
The dog died like she appeared to us thirteen years ago. True to her name, Surprise, she slipped out quietly at our vet’s office as Becca and I rubbed her and spoke soothing words. I’ve had many dogs in my life but Surprise, a German Shepherd/Alaskan Malamute mix, was the one who chose me as her master. She followed me everywhere, sat at my feet as I typed in my office, and enjoyed taking walks with us. Her warm memory wraps me like a fleece blanket.
In October I sold books with local KLAW authors on three Saturday afternoons at The Kitsap Mall near Bremerton. In early November, five authors spent three hours with me at the Orcas Hotel above the Island ferry landing where we worked through exercises in writing the memoir. For me, that was the pinnacle of the year in which I published Parsing the Dragon: A Memoir. Twenty years after we’d bought five acres on Orcas Island, I slept the night in our house there and was meeting with a group of writers—fulfilling the dreams I had when we purchased our place on Orcas, two dreams that took 20 years to manifest—to build a house and write there.
Now, after a year of promoting my book, I look at what I’ve learned about my mother.
She fought against a culture that saw her as gender inferior.
In her letters to my father when I arrive on November 26, 1945, she apologizes that I’m not a boy but assures him she’ll produce one next time. (She did.)
We all survive the end of World War II and then my mother, who’d held good jobs in Chicago before the war, primarily in public relations, is now reduced to mother, cook, housekeeper, cleaner—all duties of a wife. My father begins a career as a doctor in internal medicine. Unfortunately for my mother, he settles in a small mid-Illinois town, Decatur, near his family versus Chicago where she was reared.
The children in our neighborhood walked to school—elementary, junior high and high schools and I confess I remember coming home to freshly baked cookies. BUT my mother in frustration at the minimizing of her own abundant talents, became THE DRAGON.
She threw herself into volunteer work of all types, became president of many groups. After my brother and I left home, she became a certified teacher and worked in Title One taking children on field trips throughout Illinois. Then she ran for the School Board and served two terms. Then she founded a Decatur Foundation to help inspire lower income children in Decatur. She also wrote a play for PEO, an adult sorority. The play was performed in a theater at The University of Illinois in Champaign-Urbana.
I never saw my mother as inferior to my father, but I did observe her aggravation as she watched his accomplishments grow, while she was held back by family duties and responsibilities. The small town culture demanded she put his career above hers. I experienced her fury at the end of a hairbrush. She also pushed me out of the nest when I left home for college. As I understood the parental agreement, they’d pay for me to graduate from college but after that, I was on my own. During the six years I struggled to leave my marriage, I asked to return home with my three children. Absolutely not, my parents said.
When I look at my mother’s life, I see how deeply she influenced mine—and later the lives of my two daughters. She taught us to reach for the stars. We could follow our dreams and succeed. We believed her. We are all highly creative as writers, artists, even artisans with a needle. Many women in our family have earned advanced degrees all the way up to my older daughter’s MFA in writing for children.
Some of the women in our family remained single and contrary to my mother’s belief that a woman can’t survive without a man, they have done quite well.
We’ve all left Decatur now, most for larger cities in the Midwest or on the West Coast.
Like the Dragon, though, in my life and career, I’ve often battled limits and ceilings as a woman. I learned in my many jobs, my two marriages and as a mother, that I could achieve and aspire to great things. I could even write and publish books. I could organize entire public relations departments, but at home I’d better be prepared to keep a clean house, take care of any children and keep meals on the table. (Rich recently began doing his own laundry so perhaps that is some progress!)
These books inspired me in writing this piece:
The Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd
The Writer’s Crucible by Philip Kenney
A Year of Living Kindly by Donna Cameron
Readers of my blog can comment by using www.parsingwithsusan@gmail.com
They can find copies of my book Parsing the Dragon: A Memoir at all Timberland Libraries in Washington, Cameo Boutique in Union, Orcas Island Library, Darvill’s Bookstore in Eastsound, on Orcas Island and also “Jillery,” as well as at amazon.com. I also sent a copy to The Decatur Public Library but never heard back from them.