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Lest They Be Forgotten

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Rural Ramblings – or – Lessons Learned
© July 4, 2007
Richard O. Harris

In my parent’s bio I mentioned how I was glad to have grown up in the country (now that the growing up was over). Though this was said as kind of a joke there is a lot of truth in it. The more I live in a large city and watch the daily news, the more I wish others had had the same opportunity.

There were 8 biological children from my family and usually a few cousins all growing up together in the same house. No, I do not know how my parents managed it all but there are some things I have come to realize over the years about their parenting skills. Hopefully, my siblings will also see this or even other lessons I have overlooked.

I will begin with some of the most obvious thoughts you may have already considered and go from there. At least, what I believe may be some of the most obvious but then others may, again, fill in the blanks from their own perspective. So, the first place, in my opinion, is that there was NO WAY my parents could keep a constant eye on 8 to 12 children all at once (and of course we knew this subconsciously at least).

With that as a starting point, the next observation is we, the children, had a LOT of land to move around on which included fields, pecan groves, pine woods, and a canal (which was not on our land but that did not mean much to kids back then). Even so, we somehow knew not to get out of range of our mother’s voice (and let me tell you that lady could be heard a LONG way when she wanted to). Whether from the older children or the constant reinforcement through whippings (not spankings, I am talking about switches here) if we happened to stray to far this was a Lesson Learned pretty darn quick by each and every one of us I believe.

The next recollection I seem to have is that at least one of our parents was always close by if we needed them. They were not there to control us completely but if we felt we needed help, were in trouble (usually somebody had told on us), or just plain afraid one of them was always there for us. They may not have been happy (especially if we were in trouble – AGAIN) but they were there and they genuinely cared about us.

The kind of trouble I speak of is not cocaine use (though in later years some of us got drunk on alcohol a time or two to many) but things like “fishing fences” when we would sneak away from our chores to go to the canal. Just so you know a “fishing fence” was simply any barrier between the fishing hole and us (including a neighbor’s fences with or without no trespassing signs since we were not sure what a trespass was anyway.). For us it was just another challenge to be climbed to get where we were going and we would always help each other over until we were able to climb it by ourselves.

Another very valuable lesson for us was we never wanted to hear our mom yelling out our full names (I can still hear her saying Richard Owens Harris in that certain tone of voice when I know I should not be doing something). Though mom had a wide range of tones we instinctively learned to discern, my dad was a much quieter person (until he got angry) and we quickly figured out that dad and mom would support each other no matter how much we tried to out smart them.

Continuing their method of teaching us to be adults, our parents gave us room to grow through experience. We learned if we wanted to eat we had to help plant the seeds, gather the crops, feed and butcher the animals correctly, and learn to ask for help when we needed it. All of this may sound fairly basic to some people but I firmly believe it was a tremendous responsibility that my parents did mostly instinctively (some may have believed they should have done things differently but I cannot argue with their results).

Those results continue today to be seen by the lives we, their children – biological and otherwise – are living. Though we may not like what one of us has or is doing we still love each other (though most often silently through action rather than words). My experience as an adult has also been we are also each there if any of the others – or their children – need us for any reason.

So through all of these Rural Ramblings we have some very basic Lessons Learned that have been incorporated (sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly) throughout our lives. Some of those include:

· You will not always be under the watchful eyes of another – so be careful.

· Learn to stand on your own but stay close to those that love you and you can rely on – within hollering distance.

· Loving someone does not mean you have to like everything they do – just love them.

· Do not trespass, no matter what it means – and if you do have a fence to climb either let others help you or help them if they need it.

· Parents (those with authority) are smart even when we do not think so learn to listen whether you agree with them or not – they are there for a reason (and they usually talk to each other).

· Everyone has to be responsible for helping him/her self as much as they can – do not expect a free meal no matter how hungry you get but accept or decline invitations graciously.

· Those we help also help us in ways that may never be seen – those we love will always be with us in ways that are ours alone.

· Learning is a life long event and will never stop – so do your homework.

These are just a few of the Rural Ramblings I have for now. However, I believe the Lessons Learned with even these few are something very valuable. I often wonder as I watch the daily news how my parents ever achieved such a goal but am thankful they did.

I hope to hear from others of their perspectives and reflections. You can email me directly at ricinjax@comcast.net or click on the comments below and send your input that way anonymously. Whether you share or not I thank you again for listening.

Infant Images

Infant Images
Part 3 of Memories
Richard O. Harris

They tell me I was born on a hot, summer day (well night actually but still hot). This occurred somewhere in the rural south. Though I could provide dates and times from official documents, I personally do not recall them.

Still, the earliest memory I feel I can honestly claim as my own is not provable though quite likely. I can even now recall the motion as I look at a blue sky stained with occasional clouds. I want to believe I was riding in a car in my mother’s arms but do not know that as part of the memory.

In truth, it could just as easily have been any mode of travel with anyone or no one at all holding me. What captures my attention though is that my first memory is a feeling not a fact. Although accompanied by broken visual images, it is the feeling of motion that remains the strongest part of the memory.

The feelings of my mother’s arms and the blue sky may be supplied by my present understanding of how best to describe that motion. The motion itself, of course, may have had some other source but the memory of motion is very real. Nevertheless, such illustration is simply meant to convey the sense of warmth and well being associated with that memory.

It is simply a memory of yet more feelings and, so far, not one single provable fact. Did my mother ever hold me in her arms on a clear day while riding in a car? Most likely she did but I could never prove that to anyone. At least, not using my memory alone.

With that said, I also find it interesting to note I never seem to recall the feelings of discomfort (i.e. wet diapers) I have seen other infants experience. Yet, I know I would not want to be cold, wet, or hungry for very long at a time even now. Is it part of the human psyche to “forget” or “delete” such memories?

Were these experiences so “traumatic” that I had to block them from my mind like a shell-shocked war veteran? Or were they so repetitious I ‘learned’ by that repetition that they were only temporary as I began to manipulate others into resolving them? Were these my first efforts at understanding time and how to get someone to do what I wanted?

That's all for now

Forgotten Remembrances

Forgotten Remembrances
Part 2 of Memories
Richard O. Harris

In the beginning was the wordless time of infancy we all must endure if we are to survive. For many, this time of utter helplessness and dependency is totally erased from our minds over time. I have not met anyone who even claims to remember the first two years of life. As a side note, I have met others who remember a ‘previous life’ but even they cannot recall those first important years of infancy. Still, I digress.

I claim these are important years simply because the constant, daily terror of being in another’s control is mind altering for each of us (just ask any psychiatrist). In fact, I believe most of our early “learning” (also read conditioning) is simply an effort to appease those others who have the control. This act of appeasing is often accompanied by and soon replaced with attempts to gain control (testing the boundaries, if you will).

It seems each of us finds ways to get what we need (if not what we want) often enough to allow us to reach the next level in our ‘evolution’. Otherwise, speech itself may never have occurred. Although I suspect communicating is one of those abilities we have always possessed in spite of what historians or other scientists may say.

So, returning in time to the beginning, I can honestly say I believe the ‘word’ was there in some fashion. Or, if you please, as another author wrote somewhere “In the beginning was the Word…”. With our survival completely dependent on expressing our needs so that others understand, I will borrow from that same author again the other concept “…and the Word was GOD”.

None of this, of course, is memory. That is, unless you count my recalled observations of preceeding infants memory enough to be counted as a personal remembrance. I can say my adult inclination to be ‘gentle and kind’ to infants is certainly a product of my empathy with that powerless period of life.

Yet, there are some vague recollections of a simpler, happier time. These recollections are fragmented and fleeting at best. They begin during those years I still consider part of my infancy.

next installment soon

Memories

Memories
April 7, 2007
Richard O. Harris

As each tale has a beginning, so does this one. The only trouble is the start of this saga depends upon this author’s recall. Quite honestly, this is disturbing, as so much of my memory seems to have been misplaced.

I suppose those who are generous would simply say it has evolved. That ‘evolution’ though is quite difficult to define by any one universal standard. Therefore, suffice it to say, I finally remember there is a lot I have forgotten.

And that is what makes this tale worth telling. The recall of times past will at best be cloudy if I am to be honest. So, I tell you now that certain details are not to be trusted but which details those may be you must decide.

Oh yes, you say, if it is verifiable through recorded history then it must be true. Still be careful the trust you place in such recordings. Unless the facts are unaffected by emotion, such as a certain temperature on a given day, they are subject to both the recorder’s and the reviewer’s interpretations.

I suppose one could argue that even such mundane things as the temperature on a given day are also subject to such interpretations. Still, if we continue in this vain, the story might never begin and then where would we be? Fortunately for us, we can return to where we started and be re-minded (interesting word, don’t you think?) we were beginning to start.

Now, let us begin our journey into the past. Please make your self comfortable and try to stay awake long enough to read a sentence or two. If that is not possible, at least you have found a non-chemical sleep aid, so enjoy!!!

next installment coming soon.