Pondering the Universe

Yes, Fio is the quintessential absent-minded professor, but how can she remember if she's already brushed her teeth when her mind is occupied pondering the universe, analyzing yesterday and planning today, and coming up with words of wit and wisdom for her blog?

Of course the answer to the question is--ta-da--by determining whether or not her mouth tastes like Colgate.

Second Mother

Children often have multiple mother figures in their lives--aunts, grandmothers, and the like--who have a lasting influence on them.  Due to death or distance, Fiorella had none of these, but she did have Eve Paule, her best friend's mother.

When she could, Mrs. Paule gave Fio rides to school, swim lessons, sewing lessons, art lessons, and Baylor Children's Theater.  Fio also accompanied the family to college-sponsored musical performances, and she was allowed to study their Time-Life art books, which nurtured her own art. But most of all, Eve Paule was kind to Fiorella, and when she died, Fiorella attended the interment and was invited to pour a handful of dirt into the grave.

Blessed be the memory of Eve Levine Paule, Fio's second mother.

Message

To my dear children:

If you ever have children yourselves, please tell them how, for Christmas, your mother would decorate every nook and cranny of the house with wreaths and bells and swags and Chinese birds and everything else she could think of.  And also tell them that she did it from love because she was that kind of person.

Mama

Fio, the Killer

Fiorella has traced that guilt she told you about--deep inside herself, she still believes that, when she was a very young child, she killed her grandmother.

She's told you about it before, how, as her grandmother lay dying, Fiorella was told to stay in the large foyer outside the front room.  She remembers staring at the umbrella stand, at the front door, the stairs, and around at the empty room, and she knew her grandmother was in bed in the room off the other side of the front room.

Fio can only guess that, because she was alone, she probably entertained herself by singing.

Someone came through the door--a woman whom Fio, of course, cannot identify--and told her she should be quiet because her grandmother was dying. So when Grandma passed on soon afterwards, Fiorella assumed she had killed her by making noise in the foyer.

Yes, she actually believed she was a murderer, and she kept her horrible secret for forty years--until she finally faced the memory and realized there was no way a child could kill a person by making noise.

Unfortunately, though, the belief is still embedded in Fio's psyche.

But strangely enough, it has helped Fio become a better person than she might have been otherwise.  She knew she had to tread the straight and narrow because she had already committed such a terrible crime, a crime she had escaped rightful punishment for. It also gave an overload of responsibility because she apparently had great power.  Yes, Fiorella is out to save the world.

A final thought.  After looking at the dates, Fiorella told you it was her grandmother who was dying, which occurred when Fiorella was four and a half.  But through the years, she always thought it was her great-grandmother who was dying, which occurred when Fio was two and a half.

Take your choice.

In Memoriam

Happy birthday to my father, who sang "Little Brown Jug" to me as he drove me to Sunday School when Mother was in the hospital giving birth to my brother, who taught me how to swing a golf club,  who financed my daughter's college education.  Dad had a generous heart and a noble spirit.
And I hope he is with me still.

"Just Who Do You Think You Are?"

Fio is constantly disappointed in herself, constantly berating herself.  She learned it at her mother's knee. Her parents were concerned that she not have a swelled head--think too highly of herself.  There was also probably a bit of  the protective "don't reach too far or you'll get your arm cut off" involved.

Dad always said praise never helped anyone, that he wanted criticism (although Fio never saw him take it well).  Maybe that's why when Fiorella made an impossible 98 1/2 on Miss Osborn's Latin test, he smiled and asked,"Why didn't you make 100?"  Mom, whose mantra was that one shouldn't praise kids for doing what they should do anyway, was more subtle, challenging Fiorella's confidence with comments like "You just THINK so," when Fiorella said she could tell whether Baby needed a diaper change or not. And questioning the price Fio paid for engine work on her car, when she herself didn't even hold a driver's license.

Yes, the practice drove Fio to strive harder, to achieve more, but it has also left her unhappy with herself. And now she feels bad because she's criticizing her parents, who loved her very much.

Emerging

Memory is part of the whole picture because cause and effect mean nothing if they are not remembered.  Human beings remember various causes and effects and pass them on to the next generation, although their observations are not always accurate.  Animals and plants can be trained, but also seem to have genetic memories.  Fiorella wonders if even inanimate things have low-energy memories--which would explain water dousing and the two basic forms of magic, sympathy and contagion.

Okay, Fio is through speculating for a while.  She'll leave deep thought alone and get herself back to writing romances

Rerun

Fiorella has a fairly good memory, but where it really shines is at remembering every dumb, embarrassing, humiliating thing she's ever done in life, way back to when she was a toddler, couldn't see past an adult's waist level in a crowded department store, and tried to take the hand of a woman not her mother.

You'd think she could laugh at accidentally spitting through her teeth while talking to a cute guy when she was a tenth grader, but no--the embarrassment and humiliation is always lurking in the back of her brain, waiting to leap into her consciousness.

At least it keeps her humble.