The Non-liberated Woman

I guess you would have to call me "non-liberated" since I have never in my life felt in shackles, except for a rather long epoch I will not go into right now. I had a strong sense of my own identity from such an early age I no longer mention it, since it would be hard for most folks to believe. My Mom and Dad never once that I remember, said to me, "Girls don't do that." If I wanted to climb to the top of the tall pear tree, fine. If I wanted to wander through the near-by woods alone, or walk out in the dark, snowy winter nights, fine. The only two things that regularly got me into serious trouble were climbing out on the tile roof of the house, and consistently finding and gobbling my mother's chocolate candy.

When I see those comments about "the poor, house-bound wives of the '50's" I can't relate. After realizing at age 14 that the classic dance I had been tinkering with was the deepest, strongest call on my life, that was all I wanted to do. Falling wildly in love at 18 shifted the land under me for awhile, but soon enough, married, and several months pregnant, I was still dancing Sugar Plum Fairy. Then 8 months pregnant, I was teaching regularly. By age 25, I had two children, a solid marriage, and was living in a foreign country, speaking Spanish all day.

I am reading The Moon in the Mango Tree by Ewen just now, and it is astonishingly autobiographical for me, so far. So much so that I felt I needed to get back to this long-neglected blog and share some mulling. I wouldn't blame you if you never bothered checking this blog again, I get busy with other stuff and forget to write. One of the big interests right now, besides the hospital chaplain work, which I love, is learning Arabic, to better talk with the patients that don't speak English. Fascinating ancient language.
Talk to you later.