The kitties have decided to let me have a few minutes to myself. It seems they prefer the electric blanket’s company this morning, more than they do mine.
Let me try to use this time wisely, In my dreams I remembered this story. See if you can relate.
Old school, I know. Everyone is tired about hearing how we did it back in my day. Every where you look, people have their face stuck staring at their phone. I wondered out loud to my son, just how did we get along back in the day, without being able to send text messages?
Duh, back in school, we sent notes, via our friends to our girlfriends, via their friends. Little folded up pieces of paper, most of the time the notes started out “Hi, whatcha doin?” I use to fold mine up in a three corner manner like a paper football. You didn’t want to get caught passing notes.
It was better than the Pony Express, it got the job done.
At church was a little different. We didn’t pass notes, we used sign language. My Sunday school teacher, Nell Johnson thought that it would be a good idea to teach sign language in Sunday School. We had a couple visitors to our Church that were deaf, Ms. Johnson thought that we might get more visitors, if there more people that could sign and also I think she wanted to impress others when we went on visitations to other Churches.
For young minds, it doesn’t take very long to pick up new ideas, as a group, my Sunday School Class at Dinsmore Methodist jumped on the idea. We all got pretty good with the alphabet and could spell out our messages in church, without having to pass notes in front of the preacher.
My girlfriend at the time was the preacher’s daughter Gerry. She and I carried on in front of her Dad, he didn’t care. He was ex-Navy, a retired Chief. He seemed to like me because my Dad was in the Navy. I visited Gerry quite often and got to be a familiar face around the church and across the street, at their house.
During the summertime, I got to where I was slipping over to see Gerry after dark, around bed time. After her parents said goodnight, she would open her bedroom window and I would slip in. It started with her having her friend Linda Butler spend the night. Then me and my friend, Wayne Taylor would sneak in through the opened window.
I really don’t know how her parents slept through all of that, it was a long summer. I know that Wayne tried his hardest but I’m not sure that Linda liked him all of that much or if he just tried too hard, but their fussing cut into mine and Gerry’s private time. Finally I told Gerry that Linda was gonna have to stop spending the night with her every week end.
To me, it was worth the wait. Finally, it was just me and her. I got to where I was falling asleep at her house in her bed, with her Mom and Dad in the next bedroom, just on the other side of that wall. Her Dad would get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, I would scootch under the cover and Gerry would pull up the blanket, just in case he looked in. Most of the mornings when he got up to pee, I would gather my things and head back out the window in the dawn’s early light.
Ed, the bread man would honk his horn at me most every morning when I was riding my bike home in my underwear, with my clothes wrapped up in a bundle on the handle bars.
I got my license to drive on my 14th birthday. I got a hardship operator’s permit, because of my mother’s bad health. Soon after that, Dad got me a car. Once I got to meeting all of those new girls at Paxon High School, I sorta stopped seeing Gerry so much, pretty soon, it was not at all. I kept going to Sunday School but slowed down on going to Church. Gerry found out about the girls I was dating over in Paxon, I’ll never forget the last message she sent me.