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Tuesday, February 4, 2014

I have been dreaming about this for several weeks...


She was lost in a generation that would dissolve completely on it's own without the use of any toxic chemical or acid.  The war had settled all that.  No more "fireside chats" with  FDR.
29 years...and at this time just about pronounced as an "old maid".  Sad but true, "damaged goods" from one too many roll-in-the-hay after a drunken stupor.  Of course much of the damage was done in  the "truest" sense of carry-over Victorian manner...who would know, cared not and who could care...cared not. All contained under the canopy of war...soothing exploits justified.

She was the youngest, she was the oldest, she hated sharing anything with her 4 yr younger sister.
Her 11 yr older brother was long gone to the west coast . Oregon for that matter beckoned his curiosity and was way off the radar. He ran off with his secretary, leaving behind a devoted wife of the same ethnic heritage and 2 young daughters.  No support, no communication, no connection..a huge void that would scar the young girls for the remainder of their lives. Especially since this was still "a manly generation",  and the women sought complete and total support  for their being as they knew nothing else. All they knew was what they learned from their environment and per chance what has been handed down. Cook, clean, have a presentable image at all times, sex on demand with little female gratification and yes or yes...you had better be a virgin or "a good girl" as they say.

After her mother died in her 50's the care of her father was of utmost importance to her father.
Stay at home "surrogate spouse" dressed in daughter's clothing...sans sex or at least that's what we think.  It went this way until the father remarried, a widow of the same ethnic origin.  Since the and the future wife traveled in similar circles and spoke the same "'mother tongue" it appeared to make perfect sense and convenient.

She bursts forth with the freedom of a big cat released to the wild shortly after the father's remarriage.   NYC was the next horizon and did it swing as did she.

Her father's sister,  Tante C  maintained an apartment in the basement  of the fourplex and she checked in on her from time to time. Her younger sister was dating a navy guy, someone that was going places an NYU college graduate and she was rarely around.
Tante C was a broken woman having been literally "left at the alter" by a man of the "manly generation"...she never recovered.  Defeated and emotionally spent she practiced her dutiful housekeeping through keeping a "formal" table setting for breakfast, lunch, dinner for that is how the environment in which she was raised. She wasn't always that way, she was a very talented pattern maker in NYC. She struggled to keep afresh with ideas and designs and slowly faded in vitality and creativity then retired to mediocrity thinking that was all that she deserved. A self imposed prison as a result of  the "jolt of abandoment" on her wedding day. He never  ever showed his face again in any of the social circles.
They were aristocrats in the old country's capitol, affluent, proper, powerful in their own right and presentable at all times.
Calling cards were always carried and presented upon visits...that's how it was back home in the old country's capitol.

to be continued...



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"Thoughts are things, and their fairy like wings, go forth to bring back, that which you sent forth from your mind..." Germaine Benton