Five little kids named Larrow

Five little kids named Larrow
Back left, Maureen-13, Back right, Karen-12. Left bottom, William-11, Middle, Harlan-8, Bottom right, Darek-9.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Seamus

When I was in really little, we were introduced to a "cousin" named Seamus. He was two years younger than I was, and I thought he was the cutest little boy in the world. He was blond haired and blue eyed, and just adorable. We played with him endlessly. Gran's daughter, Margaret was his mother. We grew very close, and as we grew up, we looked forward to whenever Seamus would come over to the house. He came over a lot, as Margaret worked as a nurse. Many times she'd work overnight.

One day it was announced that they were moving away. I am not sure why, or what took them there, but they were moving to Denver, Colorado. I was heartbroken, and remember sobbing into Miss Murray's shoulder, telling her about it. I did not know where "Denver" was, but I knew it was far enough away that we'd likely never see Seamie again. Yes, we called him Seamie, a nickname that pained him as he got older, and he insisted we stop. (Pronounced, Shamie)

Apparently the move did not work out, because they came back not too long after moving there. I was thrilled to have my friend back. Seamie and I were good buddies. We'd play in the yard for endless hours, somehow being locked out of the house for hours at a time didn't seem so bad when Seamie was there.

Of course, Gran never locked Seamie out. She always let him in any time he wanted, and would give him a delicious looking treat, and if we asked for any, she's bark, NO!! It isn't lunch time yet!!! We did not understand this, but even that wasn't enough to make us resent Seamie. We loved him beyond all reason.

Besides, he was SO brave!!! I remember one time when he stared Gran down, with a stony glare, IN FRONT OF GERARD, and told Gran he hated her for being so mean to us. All Gerard did was say gently, "OK, Seamie, calm down now." Gran beat our butts for "influencing Seamie badly" but boy was it worth it. We'd talk about it for months afterward, Maureen and I.

Even younger than us, I pretty much hero worshipped Seamie. He didn't get along very well with William, even though they were nearly the same age. He said William was a baby, that he cried too much, and he'd rather be with "the girls" than be with William. Sadly, Maureen and I were very smug about this with William. Sometimes I had a pang of guilt and would try to include William, but then William would do something bratty, and that was the end of that. He'd be ostracized again. We couldn't understand why William acted the way he did, but we were used to it. Seamie wasn't.

Poor William was a pathological liar. He'd continuously make up stories and actually believe them. We could never understand it. He'd make up stories about us, and get us all angry at each other. William was labeled a "troublemaker" and we avoided him as much as possible. I could not abide my beloved Seamie being angry with me for something I didn't do, for something William said I did.

Seamie often came to the farm with us for a few weeks in the summer. We looked so forward to this, as it offered us a bit of a respite from Gran's cruelty to a degree. Gran seemed to be on her guard when Seamie was around. It was as if she didn't want him to know just how nasty she could be toward us. She did a lot of pretending, Gran did. Seamie wasn't fooled.

After the two weeks were up, he'd be absolutely frantic to leave. We felt hurt by this, as he'd say, I hate you guys, I can't wait to go home!! We didn't realize at the time that he didn't hate us, he was just desperately homesick. When we spoke to Margaret about it, she tried to explain how he felt. Homesickness was not a concept we were familiar with. We looked forward to being away from Gran any chance we got, as she was such an oppressive and domineering force in our young lives. Any chance to get away from her was golden as far as we were concerned. We lived for the short respites from her cruelty and never ending supply of stony glares. So it was hard to imagine actually WANTING to be home. Although, we could somewhat understand, as we loved Margaret, and wished she was our mother too. She was amazing. She was a very talented artist, and painted constantly. She painted portraits of nude women. Beautifully. We loved her art, but Gran got annoyed with it.

Margaret was wonderfully open with us, and if we ever had a question, she'd answer it honestly. She was a nurse, and did not think questions about the human body were disgusting or dirty or "piggish" as Gran did. She once heard Maureen and I referring to our private parts as something outlandish (which Gran instructed us to call it) and told us what it was really called. Mind you, we were a bit older by then, about ten and eleven years old, respectively. We were mystified as to why Gran didn't want us to know what our own body parts were called. Then Margaret told us what a boy's private part was called. We were amazed!! It was all so clandestine and forbidden!! I decided that the next time we went to the library, I'd take out a book on the human body... But how to get it past Gran??? Seamie was staying for an additional week with Margaret, a fact that enormously pleased us. Maybe if I got caught with the book Seamie would cover for me. Maureen and I always took out the maximum amount of books allowed, so maybe she wouldn't check on my books.

So after we got to the library, Gran and Margaret went off to thier own corner of the library to look for a new Agatha Christie book for Gran, and Maureen, Seamie and I went off to our normal section. Seamie said that all the girls in his class were reading books written by Judy Blume, and that they would be the most helpful. We seized on these books, and got four each. Then we went to our normal section of the library, feeling like "bad little girls" and proceeded to select four more "normal" books. I could NOT WAIT to get home and start reading. So began my education on the human body and what it was supposed to do.

I also took out Tom Sawyer. I loved all the Mark Twain books, and this one spooked me again and again, the stories of Injun Joe in the cave. I loved that book. I had read it once before, but a condensed version, and I felt I was ready to read the unabridged version. Both Maureen and I were at least five grades ahead in reading, a fact that we took in stride. We felt no pride at this, even though our teachers marvelled at it. We were told at home that we were stupid, so this did not convince us that we were anything but unintelligent freaks who could in fact, read.

Maureen and I fought over "Are you there God? It's me, Margaret" and I finally let her read it first. I read "Deenie" I did not understand it much, but I had always thought being a model was the most glamourous job in the world, and this was about modelling. I really think I was too young to "get" the book though. It wasn't ONLY about modelling. It confused me, actually.

Gran did check the titles of our books, and when she saw them, she thought they were about good Catholic girls who prayed. We were safe!! She rarely ever checked our books, but every so often she'd ask what we were reading. Since we weren't allowed to watch television, books were the bulk of our entertainment. Yes, my brothers were allowed to watch Saturday morning cartoons, and "The A team" when it came on, and we were allowed to watch "Mickey Mouse club" and the "Brady Bunch", but that was about it. Maureen and I were not even allowed to watch "Little House on the Prairie" because Gran said it was too emotional for us and we wouldn't get it anyway. We had read all the books, what wasn't to get? But we never dared ask, it wasn't worth her inevitable rage.

Maureen and I both finished our books in a day, and quickly exchanged them. Boy, were we getting an education!!! I had never even heard of a period, it sounded kind of scary, and since Margaret in the book was about Maureen's age, we figured she'd be getting hers any day.

We finished all our "bad" books, and I started on Tom Sawyer. One Sunday afternoon, we were all outside in the sunshine, reading, and I came across a passage in the book that I didn't understand. "Becky sat down and had what her sex called, a good cry" I was on my beloved maple tree, on the little hump at the base of the tree. Seamie and Margaret had gone home that morning.

I looked up from my book, and asked Gran, "What does sex mean?"

Gran snapped to attention, charged at me, and walloped me, knocking me off the tree, demanding "What are you reading??!??!??" I was stunned, and instantly the tears sprang up into my eyes as I shakily handed her Tom Sawyer. I couldn't catch my breath, and was trying hard not to cry. She grabbed it, and demanded to know which passage I had just read.

She read it, her lips pressed into a thin line, and a look of understanding came onto her face. "oh" she stammered, "Um, that means, er, well, it just means a girl or a boy". I still had no idea what she meant, or what it meant, but I felt it was best not to continue questioning about it. Gran handed me the book and told me to keep reading, that the rest of the book would explain the meaning. My face stung, and my head hurt, and I just wanted to run into the woods sobbing. But I didn't. I sat there, trying to read, but the print just ran together, and I could no longer concentrate. I hated Gran at that moment. It was obvious that she hated me, too.

The next time we went to the library, I went to the enormous dictionary and looked up the word sex. What I saw was too confusing, and did not explain a thing.* Most of all, I was looking for something that would explain to me why Gran reacted the way she did. I saw nothing. There would never be any rhyme or reason to her rages, no explanation, and no warning. She was an irrational person, and I did not understand it. I only got angry with someone if they were mean to me, I'd never get angry or hit someone for doing NOTHING. I couldn't imagine what she thought I had done, to elicit that sort of reaction.

We were getting older. Gran seemed to hate us as we got older. We felt bereft of any kind of affection, any kind of understanding. Maureen and I turned to each other for our solace and comfort, and the boys turned against everyone. They were becoming more and more disturbed. Darek was the angriest. William was living in a fantasy world. Harlan was the baby, four that summer, and the only one that Gran seemed to love.

I was feeling more and more isolated from the world. More and more hopeless that anyone would ever really make an attempt to understand us, understand that we desperately needed someone to be kind to us. There was no one.

*sexPronunciation[seks] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun
1.
either the male or female division of a species, esp. as differentiated with reference to the reproductive functions.
2.
the sum of the structural and functional differences by which the male and female are distinguished, or the phenomena or behavior dependent on these differences.
3.
the instinct or attraction drawing one sex toward another, or its manifestation in life and conduct.

7 comments:

Don't I Know You? said...

i am curious, but please don't feel obligated to go into it: Have you and your siblings gotten back together as adults?

We were very separate for years, and now that we're all hitting 50, we've reached the point where we are beginning to understand that we each acted—reacted—in accordance with our natures and the challenges facing us. Amazingly, we're all kinda normal now. Kinda, because we're pretty intense people.

Karen ^..^ said...

Wils::
Well... Maureen and I are in touch. But my brothers and I don't really speak much. My brother William, even at 41, sadly is still a pathological liar, and loves to stir the shit pot. Darek does drugs, and Harlan is schitzophrenic. He and I speak sometimes on the phone, but it is truly like talking to a stranger who acts so removed from us all. They all live so far from Maureen and I, and even Maureen and I are 3 hours away from each other. But none of us has the funds to visit. I don't know if I would even if I did have the money. My mental well being kind of depends on continued detachment from my brothers. If that makes any sense. I'm not without compassion for them, but they ARE toxic to my life. So... there ya go.

j said...

I was curious about your brothers, too. Since they haven't come up much, I figured that you weren't in touch. Thanks for explaining that.

I'm also curious about whether you keep in touch with Seamus (and sorry if I've missed something there).

I remember reading all of the Judy Bloom books with extreme interest, including her "boy" book, Then Again, Maybe I Won't (it was this one that I passed around our sixth grade class, to a small group of boys and girls). Scandalous stuff, but very informative.

One thing that has come across in these stories is how terrified Gran was about talk or questions that were related to sex -- any innocent curiosity was subject to pretty severe treatment. It's a wonder you could have any positive feelings about sex at all!

Thank you for another well-told story. You really do capture the perspective of the child -- innocent, mystified by the behavior of adults, never sure of what reaction Gran might have to you.

Karen ^..^ said...

Ok, I just read a review for that book, and I clearly remember reading it. I don't know why I blocked that, it was delightfully scandelous. I remember having such sympathy for him when he had to stand up in math class with an erection. I didn't understand it, but I definitely identified with his embarrassment! I felt the same embarrassment daily.

I also identified with his stomach aches, as my stomach constantly ached at that age. I was always doubled up in some sort of stomach pain. Gran used to accuse me of faking. Figures...

Em said...

wow. i remember reading judy blume books when i was in boston for two years.

i never approached my parents either about sex. not because they'd react similar, but because the culture is that we don't date, mingle, or get involved with boys unless we're going to marry them. atleast, not openly.

i got my sex ed accidentally through reading an entire encyclopedia while in 4th grade because i was bored. and my reaction was : "it goes where?!"

and i understand your reaction of sex just for getting any form of affection because i did the exact same thing. perhaps still doing the same, although i've learned to separate love from lust now.

your stories do touch me and i feel like giving you a big hug *hug* (the same one you'd give trapeez kitteh lol)

I Hate to Weight said...

you write so beautiful and so movingly or such terrible times. i'm trying to imagine you remember all this and writing it down. i can not pull myself away from this blog.

Karen ^..^ said...

MelissaS::
Thank you so much! If you start at the very end, that is actually the beginning. LOL, I havent figured out how to make them go in order. So in reading them, you actually go back in time.

I guess I was an optimist from way back. I always knew things would get better. I LIVED for when I "grew up" and got away from Gran. Little did I know that life would be just as, if not more, difficult.