The Feather

I am laying on my stomach on the water bed, sucking my thumb while holding my teddy’s arm in the same hand, inhaling the calming scent of the raggedy toy. I take my other hands and stick it under the corner of the sheets so I can feel the warm, plastic squish of the mattress. I’ve been told repeatedly not to do this very thing for fear of causing a leak, it is a secret mild naughtiness I enjoy.  I’m watching the space shuttle on TV but wishing it were cartoons or a game show.

“Jill!!! Make milk while we’re gone!” my mother yells over the TV. We drink powdered milk in my house until I am a senior in high school. An awkward thing to explain to friends and a chunky bland taste I can still get in mouth as I write this.

A cat jumps up on the bed and causes me to bounce across the waves. Today just my mom and I are going to the mall. An actress from Sesame Street is making an appearance and I can’t wait. Previously when I’ve been to the mall to see someone it’s been Santa and I sit on his lap. I assume I will probably sit on her lap too, but she will tell me about Big Bird instead of asking me what I want for Christmas.

“Jill!!” My mother once again yells over the TV, “Did you vacuum yesterday?”

“I already told you I did!” Jill yells back, I squeeze and release the warm plastic mattress but keep my hands buried deep.  I know I am supposed to be interested in the shuttle but can I turn the channel without making my mom mad?

The yelling in our house is constant except for when my siblings are at school and my step dad is watching me while my mother sleeps before or after her night shift.  I love hanging out with my step dad running errands, reading books and watching our favorite movie “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory”, but I often miss my mom.  Not today though. Today I am watching her get ready and then just her and I are going to the mall.

“Mom!!! Nick won’t let me watch my show and called me stupid!”

My mom rolls her eyes. She is naked in front of the mirror and my eyes go from the shuttle on the TV to my mother’s body. I notice her sagging breasts and surgery scars. My mother applies heavy bright blue eye shadow with her long bony ring covered fingers, her butterfly necklace gleams in the light and sways around her neck.  Someday I will be just like my mother I think. I will have large nipples and spend time putting on makeup and picking my hair. I hope to be as beautiful as she is. I hope to smell as wonderful as her (thick 80’s perfume is fills the room).

“Are you even watching the launch, Amy?” She asks, noticing me looking at her in the mirror.

“Yes” I say without taking my thumb out of my mouth, spit pooling around my thumb.

“Take it out, I can’t understand you”  My thumb makes a pluck sound as I pull it out, I swallow  and again say “Yes”, though this time quietly while looking up into the reflection of her green eyes.

She walks to me, bends down towards the bed, I watch the butterfly’s green and orange wings dance as she kisses my forehead. She is still naked and water drips down onto me.

“I love you, Amy Jan” she smiles and walks back to the mirror.

I remember very little of the actual trip to the mall but I’m pretty sure I didn’t sit on the actress’ lap.  I did however get a yellow feather I believed to be an actual Big Bird feather for far longer than what is probably healthy.   I find myself wishing I had that feather as a memento  for this vivid memory of a small moment of connection with a mother who I resented most of my life.  A mother I never got to know who loved her daughter Amy Jan more than I really ever appreciated or acknowledged.

For the Love of the Game

First Performed at Moth Story Slam Ann Arbor Michigan September 5th, 2018, Edited and performed with “This Improvised Life” January 2019.

“By the power vested in me by the Universal Life church and the great state of O-H (points to audience, audience: I-O!) I now pronounce you husband and wife!” It is a beautiful late September afternoon and I had gotten got through the ceremony without crying.

Let me back up a minute, I really hate Ohio State football.  I know that’s an unpopular opinion but my hate doesn’t even make a ton of sense. First of all I don’t follow sports or care about sports. Growing up in Wisconsin my parents were hardcore Packer fans. They tried to get me into it but refusing to drive me to the mall during games and answering the phone when my friends called during games with “SOMEONE BETTER HAVE DIED” kind of had the opposite effect on  me. I can’t tell you the last time I sat down and watched a football game that wasn’t a Super Bowl (even then I’m the annoying girl making jokes and eating snacks loudly).   I do have a long history of trying to seem cool by talking about sports and saying things like “Yeah if they win the sweet 16 they go to the great eight and then the fantastic four”.

The other reason my Ohio State hate doesn’t fit is for the last 2.5 years I’ve lived in Cleveland and absolutely love it.  I tell my friends who frown at me when I don’t do the O-H-I-O thing when “Hang on Sloopy” plays at a bar or event:  Look, I can root for the Indians (aka wear a shirt and eat a hotdog) root for the CAVS (I like basketball slightly more than other sports and this year the giveaways and entertainment has been on point, I  mean Coolio?!), and as for the Browns: I’ll chime in with the optimistic Clevelander view of maybe next year!  BUT I simply haven’t been able to do the Ohio State thing.

In the spring of 2007 I was in graduate school at University of Wisconsin and began dating a PhD student originally from Ohio. The first sign of his undying love for Ohio State was when he nearly got me hit by a car as we were running across a street to get to the bar before kick-off of the Ohio State vs Wisconsin game.  Later our friend who had also gone to undergrad at Ohio State told me “Yeah that’s understandable”.  Throughout our dating and eventual marriage, life had to be arranged for Ohio state games.

One time a few years into being married we were at a friends’ house watching another big Ohio State vs Wisconsin game. I was doing my Amy thing of drinking a couple beers and loudly eating snacks, half paying attention to the game on TV. I cheered loudly as I happened to actually be watching when Wisconsin scored a touchdown. My husband responded loudly with “This doesn’t even matter to you, this matters to me! Anyone who knows me the two most important things to me are Ohio State Football and Hiking” The room was dead silent until I laughed and asked “Anyone notice anything crucial missing from that list?”  My husband and everyone else laughed as he hugged me and said “You know you’re up there baby”. As time passed Ohio State Football and hiking really did continue to be his passions and I seemed to fall short. He would miss Ohio State games for a backpacking trip (he took 1-2 weekend trips a month where as I would rather eat glass than sleep and poop outside). As I tried to go on an occasional camping trip, my husband would not miss Ohio State games for events important to me.

In September 2014 we finally took the Pacific Northwest trip I’d been wanting to do for years. The trip was pretty great minus lots of awkward silences you probably shouldn’t have with the person you’ve been married to for a few years. On the last full day of our trip we were in Seattle and would fly home on what would be my birthday. So I’m not a big princess about my birthday but I am a little princess about my birthday and flying west to east (we lived near Baltimore at the time) meant my entire birthday would be spent traveling.

I discussed this with my husband and made the suggestion that we pretend that last day in Seattle was my birthday. He  responded “But its not your birthday” I told him I realized what date my birthday was and exhaustively went through the reasoning again and told him I saw a poster for a Neil Simon play  when we were in a brewery earlier that day “But your birthday is tomorrow and the first Ohio State game is tonight”.  I gave up trying to celebrate my birthday but tried to get him to at least watch the game at a bar or brewery.  I lost the fight and we watched the game in our hotel room. I ended up having a horrible anxiety attack and just going for a walk on the hotel grounds by myself. Once the game had ended we had my “birthday dinner” at a seafood restaurant in a mall near out hotel.

It may not be a surprise that our marriage did not last. What lasted a just little longer than our marriage was my hate of hiking and backpacking but in the last couple years I have learned I actually love exploring new parks and trails on my own (I’m still not sleeping outside though). What had lasted much longer than our marriage is resentment for a team that had nothing to do with the failure of my marriage, which I can admit is pretty silly.

I have been divorced for three years and the road hasn’t always been smooth but I can honestly say it has had more good views than flat tires.  One of these good views was on that beautiful day at the end of this past September; I had the great honor of officiating my first wedding.

The one problem with officiating was that every time I rehearsed the ceremony I wrote I would start to cry every time I got to the line of pronouncing the couple husband and wife.  On the way to the ceremony I practice the line over and over again in my car as a means to try and desensitize myself, but it wasn’t working.   Out of the blue I decided on doing a good old fashion “O-H-I-O”. It was enough of a tension break that I didn’t cry and the ceremony went off without a hitch.  These days when I’m out at a bar and hear “Hang on Sloopy” I am one of the first people with my arms up in the air and smile thinking of the wonderful journey and opportunities  that have made me who I am today.  Don’t worry, if it ever comes down to it I’m still rooting for the Wisconsin badgers.