Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Cousin(s) (05/22/08)
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TITLE: It Worked for Nita and Me | Previous Challenge Entry
By Genia Gilbert
05/26/08 -
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Our Moms didn’t bother telling about the “Ma-ma” or “Da-da” stuff. The words they remember hearing from us are “But Mamma, she bit me first! ” That must have wiped out all memories of baby talk.
Nita and I were first cousins, the favorite grand-kids out of twenty-seven. We know this because all the other twenty-five have told us so for many years. We had the rank of being first and only grand-kids for over three years. Our mothers, who were sisters, lived together at a time when our dads were serving in US military. Not only that, but we all lived with our grandparents, along with three of our mothers’ other siblings. We really had it good, I’m told, though it sounds like a circus to me.
We were born within a few months of each other, Nita being first. The downside of all this is that we had to compete with each other for attention, and to use whatever means necessary. Apparently, that included our teeth.
Now, I don’t remember ever biting Nita, because I was too young at the time. However, I do recall wanting to bite her a couple of times later on. The thing is, we loved each other fiercely much like many sisters do. Our mothers also told a sad tale about having to peel us apart on the day that the families had to be divided, and Nita had to move four states away. At three and a half and four years of age, we evidently played out a very dramatic scene. This, however, was good strategy because it assured that we’d get to visit at least a couple of times a year, or they would feel very guilty, right?
Anyway, as we grew up and grew apart in some ways, God was great to us, and always made a way for our lives to cross and blend briefly again. When those times came, it was like we had never been apart. Our "pretend" games never changed. Our dolls were our children, always with the same names, and our husbands, wonderful loving family men who brought home gifts and food. We, in turn, were beautiful wives and mothers who cooked the food in our pots and pans and served it in china tea sets. We believed in “happily ever after”, and it worked, for Nita and me.
We outgrew our dolls eventually, and discovered real live boys. We were always totally sure they would match our expectations, and equally brokenhearted when they did not. By that time we were able to spend a couple of weeks together in the summers, either at her home or mine. This was exciting, and brought a little freedom to each of us in new surroundings. I still recall Nita’s cautious, reserved nature, and remarks like, “Oh, I don’t think we should do that”, and myself answering “For Pete’s sake, why not?” We were always so different, and the contrast made life great fun! Anyway, we managed to get through our teenage years fairly unscathed from most of the dangers of that decade. For that, I must give all credit to our heavenly Father watching over us (Possibly a little bit to Nita being such a scaredy-cat).
The next phase was what I call the “R” years, meaning rapid, relentless, and most of all, reality.
We had imperfect husbands, who assured us that this was mutual. We had imperfect babies, who cried, eventually fought, and yes, occasionally bit each other. It was not always the way we planned!
But these years were also when we learned to cling to the God Who is real, and personal, forgiving, compassionate; and Who guides in the affairs of men.
That was evidenced years later when my husband’s company suddenly closed down its local facility, after thirty years in operation. He was four years from retirement and forced into a job transfer. Of all places, we were sent to central Kansas, less than thirty miles from Nita! She was there to help me in this temporary, late-life transition. We talked and giggled again, and shopped for our grandchildren! We bought things like pots and pans, china tea sets, and dress-up clothes, all those things you need for “happily ever after”. It worked, for Nita and me.
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