Slipping & Sliding

Frank, Scotty, and I fell into a more normal routine. It was good only to have yard maintenance work to do for awhile

Although everything but the toilets got taken off of the sewer system, we figured the yard would always stay pretty and green because of the washing machine, sinks, and shower water running through a pipe that had a long flexible hose on the end of it. Also, the trailer house had a brand new dishwasher, but with the sewer situation, I never got to use it. You know what? I never really minded it.  Washing dishes has never been a burden to me, and I still do not have a dishwasher.

Frank, Scotty, and I were attending the Methodist Church in Van Vleck, where Frank and I married, and where we had Scotty christened.  It was fun to be back in the church where it all began for us.

Slippin’ & Slidin’

One Sunday morning, Frank, Scotty, and I got up early to have a big breakfast before getting ready for Sunday school and church.  When we finished eating, I cleaned the kitchen while the guys showered and dressed for church.  Since it was still summertime, once showered, I decided to wear a lightweight light brown chiffon dress then chose to wear a pair of platform heels.  The shoes had chunky heels, soles made of plastic, and were open-toed with delicate straps that wrapped around my ankles.  I dearly loved those shoes.

Once we were all dressed and ready to go, we headed to the front door of the trailer house.  Scotty exited the front door first, with Frank and I following close behind him.  It had rained the night before, and everything was still dripping with moisture.  While Frank closed and locked the door, I was watching Scotty run towards the car shouting to him to be careful not to step in a mudpuddle. Still watching Scotty, I stepped down from the porch to the first step.  Suddenly, I was slippin’ and slidin’.  I grabbed the four by four next to me quickly and ended up swinging into the sides of the creosote railroad ties, which were stacked to form the support for the porch.

As I held on to that four by four tightly trying not to fall to the ground, Frank swiftly pulled me back on to the porch.  My leg was stinging, so I looked down at it. Oh, my goodness! The stocking on the stinging leg that had become friendly with the creosote railroad ties had a runner in it about three inches wide.  If that was not bad enough, black yuck covered the side of my dress and the leg with the runner on it. For some reason, that was extremely funny to me, and I started to laugh, then Frank laughed with me. Meanwhile, Scotty came running back up onto the porch when he saw his Mom swinging through the air dangling from a post.

Frank stopped laughing when he noticed that my leg was bleeding from the run in the hose, but seeing his concern, I told him. “Frank, look that shoe still looks pretty on my foot.”

Knowing that I was not going to admit that there was a possibility that I was hurt, Frank said to me, “Dang, Nancy Lou, I think that stocking might be injured. Not only does it have a huge run in it, but it looks like it is bleeding. We need to get it cleaned up and bandaged!”

Looking into Frank’s eyes, seeing the love and concern there for me, I told him, “I love you, Frank, and I think so too.”

Frank, Scotty, and I went back into the house to clean up and bandage that stocking.  We missed church that Sunday morning, but my guys took excellent care of me and that stocking.  Later that day, Frank went outside and figured out a way to rough up those slick stairs and built handrails to hold on to while going up and down the stairs.  You want a love like that.

The next week, Frank and I made sure that Scotty had all of his shots up to date then made a trip to the school to enroll him.  The principal of the elementary school had coached both of us in high school and lived next to my parent’s house in Van Vleck. Frank and I both loved this coach. He was a tougher-than-nails coach, but always fair and loved kids.  When Frank and I walked into his office to enroll Scotty, our coach, now the principal could not stop laughing.  He asked us if our son could behave better than us, and why was he being punished again.  Of course, then he hugged us both and told us how happy he was that we were back home.  We must have visited with him for four hours that day reminiscing about our high school days, and I even think there was a mention of a New Year’s Eve Party, must have been something Frank did.

Before we knew it, it was the end of the summer of 1979 and the morning of the first day of school for Scotty.  Frank took off work that day, partly thinking I might cry all day and partly because he felt the same emotions. Frank and I planned to drive Scotty to school, then get him settled into his classroom and hopefully leave without showing all of the feelings building up inside of us. Entrusting your child all day to a stranger was not something we had ever done, but we knew it was inevitable.

We all got up early on the first day of school and had a big breakfast then we got dressed.  As we were walking to the car, Scotty told us that he wanted to ride the school bus to school.  Immediately, I looked at Frank, and he returned my look.  Frank saw the tears welling up in my eyes, but he looked back at Scotty then said, “That’s a great ideal son.  After all, you are a big boy now, and your Aunt Cindy will be on the school bus too.  What do you think, Mom?  Isn’t that a great ideal?”

My heart was saying, “No! Just No!” but in my mind, I knew what the answer needed to be, so after taking a deep breath, then smiling my best smile, I answered, “Sure. Your Dad and I will meet you at the school, so we can help you find your room, and you can meet your teacher if that’s okay?”

Scotty looked at us and nodded yes, then Frank and I waited with Scotty at the end of our driveway for the school bus.  When the bus stopped, we watched our son’s little legs climb up the steps into the school bus, then he stopped at the top, smiled a big smile, and waved to us before taking his seat on the bus.  Frank and I smiled and waved back at our son, holding back tears as the bus drove off, then we ran to our car, got in it, cranked it up, and followed that bus, but not so close as to be too obnoxious.

As the school bus got close to town, Frank took some short cuts to the school to make sure we parked the car then had time to be at the entrance to the school before the bus arrived.  When the bus stopped in front of the school doors, Frank and I stood there waiting with huge smiles on our faces. As Scotty climbed down the steps of the bus, he looked so much older and such a big boy.  No longer did I see my baby boy, only my big boy.

Frank and I took Scotty to his kindergarten room, he met his teacher then surprising us once more, Scotty told us it was time for us to leave.  Frank said to him that we would pick him up after school, but again Scotty asked us if he could ride the school bus home. Since having experienced the events leading up to getting our son to the school, this revelation did not surprise Frank and me in the least, so Frank told Scotty he could.

It was time to leave our son at school, so Frank decided that he would not hug Scotty, only shake his hand. As for me, I hugged Scotty tightly but refrained from kissing his sweet cheek. Frank and I walked out of the schoolhouse that day hand in hand in total silence. Our minds were busy thinking back on the memories with our son that lead up to him starting to school. Frank surprised me by taking me out to lunch that day, and then we drove to the beach where we walked hand in hand talking about whatever came to mind, and I felt so loved by the man I had married.

That afternoon Frank and I were at the end of the driveway when the school bus arrived.  Scotty was all smiles as he seemed to bounce down the steps of the bus.   Frank asked him what he had done at school that day, and Scotty answered him, saying, “Nothing.”

Frank and I laughed then we all walked together into our home.  We had raised our son to be a strong and independent person, which is what parents should do, but now Scotty realized that we did not know what his every move was.  One thing for sure, Frank and I were in for some new exciting experiences with our independent son.

Scotty had figured out that he was now in charge of what he would tell us, which was the beginning of being independent.  Frank and I were proud of this budding independence in our son, but as our only child, we realized we would miss the times that he was solely dependent on us. The knowledge of God’s purpose in Scotty’s birth gave us total faith and trust to let our son slowly become independent of us to become his own man. Not a day went by that we did not thank God for giving us our son.

We knew that we had instilled in Scotty a love for God, which was an essential thing to Frank and me. Scotty was a gift from God to us with our purposes to raise him, love him, guide him, and when the time was right to let him go and put him in God’s hands with the knowledge to become a man who would love and walk with God by his side as he lived his life.

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