PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

jubulation it's a fingersaver!!!

Thursday, Feb. 02, 2006

Today I missed my father like crazy.  I kept thinking of all the things he didn’t know about my life, things that have come after his death.  After all I’m now married to someone else!!  I can imagine him and Rick sitting around having a smoke together and shooting the shit.  I can totally see them getting along.  I can in my mind but in my reality it will never be.  (Let it be known that he once told me that he wouldn’t say a word if I “found some happiness with the guy that lived down the street from him when once visiting him with my ex-husband….I didn’t ask at the time but I’ve so often wondered if he sensed that I wasn’t happy back then?”)  That visit remains a light in my life…that and my son meeting his grandfather….was priceless…

 

Today I recalled two funny stories from my childhood. 

 

Story Number 1

 

My father had a small appetite.  He was known to cut a m&m in half and eat only half while leaving the other half lay on the living room end table.  He was also a sneak by food stealer, but he wouldn’t take your entire sandwich, he would merely cut a small square off of it with his pocket knife while you were not looking, you come back to your plate and voila it’s a square skinnier.  (he always always carried a pocket knife and that thing fixed everything from my bikes to my curling irons to my first car’s fan belt…a first car that Dad picked out and got me hooked up with and Mother bitched about..my Dad once said to me “We got her good.” In reference to his buying the car without her consent.)

 

So..my real story…..when I was about 15 another boy in my class slammed my pointer finger on my left hand in the locker.  My fingernail popped up from the flesh and my father was called to take me to the hospital since he was laid off from the steel mill and my mother was working at the time.  I was filled with trepidation because as teenager relations with my mother were so strained I simply learned not to isolate myself with either parent.  But he arrived and off to the hospital we went.  Upon arriving we were placed into a waiting room with a towel and some ice for my hand.  The girl behind the curtain complained to her mother that she was hungry.  I looked at my father and said, “Geez I’m hungry too, I missed lunch.”  He grinned at me and said, “we’re in luck!”  He pulled a pack of lifesavers out of his pocket and offered me one.  Butterscotch in the striped pack.  (Remember the striped lifesaver packs?)  I said, “No..like I’m hungry!!!”  He replied, “You’re in luck I have cherry too and that one’s a full pack!!”  He ate half a butterscotch lifesaver…meticulously cut with his knife (YES the man cut lifesavers with a knife) and then let me munch all of his lifesavers and when I apologized, he said “yah their not fingersavers you know!”  To this day when I see a roll of lifesavers I think about my Dad…..I think there’s a pack of “fingersavers!!”  My fingernail is still funky to this day and when my acrylic peels up in that spot or I see my fingernail hollowed out up the center…..I think about my Dad.  That creep in my class gave me a lifelong good memory in the end. Thanks Creep….thanks Dad!

 

Story Number 2 (this one’s slightly better even…)

 

When I was in kindergarten I found the teacher boring.  (She later died when driving her car and hitting black ice….she was the first person I knew that died and I’ll forever recall her red lipstick while she laid very still in a big odd shiny box..)  So back to my story…..I found her boring because I was a very imaginative child that needed to be stimulated or else it was the fact that she was probably teaching Math and we all know how I feel about that!.   So upon finding utter and sheer boredom I asked to go to the restroom.  After I got in there I was playing my favorite song in my head over and over and decided to sing it at the top of my lungs in the bathroom.  The bathroom was located right off of the classroom in the back. (since kindergarten kids have wetting issues.)  Apparently my joyful singing did not go over well with the rest of the class and the teacher burst in while I had my little girl panties around my ankles (that I was swinging too and fro’ as I sang out in joy….

 

“Ohhhhhhhhhh Cecilia, you're breaking my heart,
You're shaking my confidence daily.
Oh Cecilia, I'm down on my knees,
I'm begging you please to come home…
.”

 

I think I was on this part when the door flew open….

 

“Jubilation,
She loves me again,
I fall on the floor and I'm laughing….”

 

The teacher bursts open the door as I was jubilation’ing at the top of my 5 year old lungs, butt dancing on the potty. *GASP* HOWWWW RUDE!!!!

 

Little was said and I was returned to my desk with the flip up top and the Kristy C. on the name tag scotch taped to the front of it in the upper right-hand corner.  I quickly put it out of my mind but I do recall singing the same song again as I skipped up the steep hill leading to my house that afternoon.

 

That evening at dinner I was happily eating my mashed potatoes with corn mixed in as everyone else ate the yucky roast beef.  My father knowing I hated it told me he would give me $5 if I tried to eat it.  I took him up on the offer and just as I was holding my nose and swallowing my father jumped up from his chair at the head of the big oak table and started to sing really loudly while dancing to and fro’

 

“Jubilation,
She loves roast beef again!!!!!” 

 

To the tune of Cecilia of course…… 

 

Where did I learn that song?  Listening to it play over and over again while riding along in my Dad’s big old brown Bronco in the icy back roads of Pennsylvania’s finest wooded lands.  Perhaps that’s why I did NOT get my five year old ass beat for mis’behavin? 

7:49 p.m. ::
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