Daddy made me scramble and babble when he stood to pull off his belt. Momma made me sit still and shut up just raising an eyebrow. Wonder why Dad never tried that?
Little brother Glenn experienced some variations in his disciplining for his scrapes with trouble, but he could vouch for the repercussions of the belt and the eyebrow if ignored. Observant baby sister Phyllis learned from our shenanigans and had smooth sailing all the way up.
Those childhood punishments, though, at least from my perspective as child number one, didn’t drown out the laughter. I can close my eyes and hear Dad’s particular chuckle and see Mom’s grin. As much as I’d like to say the three of us kids were always the source of their fun, I know better.
They laughed with neighbors across the fence as we played in the yard. They laughed with friends around a table of card games as we fell asleep on the couch. They laughed during road trips as we aggravated each other in the back seat. They laughed with relatives at family gatherings while we frolicked with cousins. We all laughed at Red Skelton or Ed Sullivan’s guests, never with Ed Sullivan himself, though, as we watched TV together on the weekends. They laughed at country music shows when we traveled to Branson. They always laughed with the grandbabies. What was it that amused them so? I didn’t pay enough attention.
This month is the seventieth anniversary of their union. (You’re calculating now. I didn’t show up till about five and a half years later). Why didn’t I think to ask how long after Dad’s military discharge they met? I don’t know where they went on dates in the Bootheel back then that would have been fun. Did Dad make a production of his proposal? Where did they go out as newlyweds in St. Louis besides the Admiral? That is the only date story I know. What was the determining factor in moving back to St. Louis from Doniphan when I was four after two or three previous stays?
My brother and sister might know a thing or two. We have realized we had different perspectives and information though growing up with the same parents under the same roof. Extended family might know some stories we don’t. It’s a fascinating treasure hunt.
Calvin Granville Pearson married Ruth Evelyn Bizzell on February 9th, 1948. Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad.
A love story from the start,
Two daring to share their hearts.
Proof is in familiar traces
In three now grown-up faces.
Two girls with a boy in the middle
Mirror their love more than a little
In noses, eyes and easy grins,
In coping with life’s losses and wins.
