Thursday, January 28, 2010

Frances Daughters

I always thought this should be a name of a book..... or a heavy metal rock band.
As luck would have it, the title of Frances Daughter's belongs to a couple of gals I know.
Three sisters actually......... myself being the youngest member of this group.
This band we formed has bonded at times out of necessity and survival in the early days
of Frances Daughter's conception. The oldest sister took the unpopular role of mother
in this trio. Again not out of desire..... simple necessity. A budding young lady in her right,
the eldest knew to tow the line with this unruly crew.

The middle gal in Frances Daughters'..... oh she was quite the tiger. Full of life and energy,
this little lady was a little rascal. Being the middle daughter, observer, she had her own way
of dealing with pesky people and problems. This middle child had thoughts and feelings and opinions...... that typically did not resonate with the heads of the house hold. She definitely had her own stamp, mark...... this little gal wasn't taking anyones guff! Oh no...... she saw things as they were.

Frances Daughter's had one more little gal yet in the litter, the youngest..... hmmmmmm.
This little gal was very shy and influenced by her big sisters. She at times was like a puppy dog, lost and in need of direction. Following the lead of the older two girls.
Her heart was perhaps not as toughened as Frances two older daughters.
They already learned the ropes. They were pros by an early age. Being one of Frances Daughter's required much meat tenderizer to the heart..... the youngest hadn't gotten this memo yet, she was too busy riding her bike around the neighborhood I suspect.


Daydreaming their lives away in the tiny bedroom the three of us shared. Sometimes rolling around in the lime green shag carpeting for what seemed an eternity....... Oh this trio, quite playful.
The younger and middle one, the headaches they would give the oldest.
Never lacking new and exciting adventures, they thought
borrowing the family station wagon in the middle of the night was always a brilliant idea.
Even more brilliant because neither sister had drivers licenses. Add some friends to the mix,
I feel the joy taking over as I write. We loaded up that contraption with teenage giggling,
bubble gum chewing teen angels, rolled that baby out the drive way........ but this time fate wasn't so kind to two of Frances Daughter's. Off in the distance as we had that wagon perched
and ready for business, the sounds of many police sirens were headed our way.


As if matters were not bad enough, it seemed as though a dozen cats had gathered around us.
That is a 14 year olds mind, maybe there were five..... but it felt like twelve. We had the usual omens.... this was a bad idea. The key would not fit in the lock of the car door. We were not having it, our midnight pleasure ride awaited us, and that was that.

Several of Temple City's finest Sheriffs surrounded our wagon, and out we went.
My mom heard the knock..... how my dad didn't I will never know. A couple of sheriffs came in,
and my middle sister wasn't having it! I was scared out of my mind, but middle sis was in for it.
One officer asked my mom if she wanted them to haul her off to jail over night. She was a mouthy one, they said something to that affect. I am chuckling as I write this, thinking about that cop wanting to haul off my sister to teach her a lesson. My mom said no...... but my poor older sister was the jailer for both of us.

I had big plans of Magic Mountain Theme Park the next day. Well, don't tell Frances' youngest daughter to red light that one and not expect drama. Definitely was going to do myself in if I couldn't go. Like I said , just a little drama. The mother tells the eldest to keep vigil..... and off to bed she goes. That's pretty much how it went. She handled things, we got used to it.
Good times for her. The smarty mouth one I believe needed some talking to. Oldest one was having good times that night.


Frances Daughter's bonded over the strangest things throughout the years. Fought like
rabid animals, taunting each other........ laughing and having our own humor that no one else would or could understand, for being Frances Daughter's. Feeling the aloneness and fear,
yet not identifying it's name....... being one of her children. Wanting safety and warmth, love.
Our humor got us through many a tough time, and also belittled true heartache.
Tough exterior we wore .... we all learned through humor, distancing ourself from emotions.....
people. There was no place for real tenderness being one of Frances Daughter's.


We are still Frances Daughter's, always will be. Time has passed, our hearts have softened.
The pain of having a mother who never knew.... or knows how to love will always
be part of the scars we bear. Fortunately we see those are her wounds, as we age.
Frances Daughter's have learned to reunite ...... to forgive. To understand it was never
ours, the heavy sack we carried all this time. The pain in Frances heart is something we will never know. To not know how to hold your child, to sooth their fears...... wipe away your daughters tears. I am Frances youngest daughter. My heart bled for so long, wondering why was I so unworthy of her love. I gave and gave and gave to my mother until I almost disappeared.
It appeared I did not make a dent. I release her to those above who know greater than me.
I surrender. I am merely her daughter. I know I will now meet her again in another form.
No longer can I hold on to this pain. I will always be Frances Daughter.



No comments:

Post a Comment