Saturday, May 9, 2009

Momma's on Cloud 9

It takes a special women to be the momma of a Fritter Chick! This is a true story about our momma. She has really put up with a lot and we love her!

Throughout our childhood, our dad worked shift work at the local pulp and paper mill. As sisters, we are sixteen years apart. I, being the youngest, as a little girl, dreaded the “graveyard” shift as that left my mom and I alone and I needed my dad around as our “protector” from the boogie man! My family and I lived in a nice neighborhood but there had been some robberies lately. Every time something horrible happened around our home, my dad was working night shift. A helicopter swarming the river behind our house looking for a notorious jewelry store thief, a gang that was on the State’s wanted list, and our mailbox, which had a beautiful painting on it of Mallard Ducks, was stolen. All of these events happened on night shift! To add to my panic, I dreamed every night. Most of my dreams were nightmares. The problem with my dreams is that sometimes when I woke up, the dreams were so real, I felt like they actually occurred. Little did I know, my dreams were going to end a beautiful friendship between myself and the neighbors' child. I mentioned we lived in a nice neighborhood, however, about three miles down the road stood a bar named The Cloud Nine. It was a blue, cement building with white clouds which were spray painted on the exterior. This building was smaller than a gas station. I was only in elementary school and I really did not know what The Cloud Nine could possibly be. I actually thought it was where you could buy chalk and crayons because the clouds on the outside of that building reminded me of craft time at school. I finally inquired as to what The Cloud Nine was to my parents. The answer I was given: “It is a place where adults go and children have to stay home”. The explanation sounded simple enough to me. However, one night shift evening, my dreams got the best of me. I dreamed that my mother had left me alone in the house to go to The Cloud Nine. Of course, this would never happen in real life. My mother is a saint and my parents had a wonderful marriage. She would never be at the Cloud Nine. In fact, she was always in bed by nine! However, I still woke up crying. When nobody came to my room to comfort me, I called out for my mother. No answer. I walked into her room and felt around on her bed and still nothing. I panicked. It was one o’clock in the morning and I was alone at only six years of age. I reached up on my tip toes and grabbed the telephone off the wall and called . . . the neighbors! Keep in mind that these neighbors are great pillars of the community, are both pharmacists, and their daughter and I played together every day. The phone rang. They answered. I screamed into the phone in a panic, “My daddy’s working graveyard shift and my momma left me at home and went to the Cloud Nine.” I sobbed. The neighbors spoke to me in a calm voice and one of them said they would stay on the line with me until the other could come and pick me up. It was right at that time that my mother emerged from the bathroom in her fuzzy robe and said “Who are you talking to at this time of night and why are you not in bed?” I was so happy that the nightmare was not real that I yelled out in delight, “There’s my momma!” Of course to the neighbors, this sounded like my mother emerged from the front door instead of the hall and had just arrived back home after the bar closed because it was that time! We tried to explain everything to the neighbors the next day and let them know about my nightmares. However, since that evening, no more invitations to come over and play with their daughter were extended. I do not think they ever believed us. To this day, no matter how ill I feel, when I go to the pharmacy to pick up my prescription and see our old neighbors, I cannot help but remember that night, laugh, and feel like I am on cloud nine!