A Week of Discoveries...

I woke the other morning to the sound of pounding coming from Sissy’s room.  I found her with her “mega squirt gun” in hand beating on the ceiling.  “Listen Mom, there is a squirrel in my ceiling!  He’s been scurrying back and forth and woke me up last night!”  Sure enough, I could hear scratching and pitter pattering back and forth too.  I told her I would get on the ladder outside and see what I could find in the attic.  One of the first things I noticed about our century old cottage was the attic entry OUTSIDE above the back door.  Battered shutters with a small chunk of wood used for a “lock” were the only barrier between the attic and the outdoors and any critters that lived near us. 

I climbed up to the opening, Sissy behind me handing me various sized flash lights.  The attic was approximately four feet tall and 20 feet wide with no clear vision above Sissy’s room.  As I was peering in, Sissy said “Um Mom, I think our “Squirrel is watching you.”  I looked up only to see our blue-eyed Siamese Zackary, the emotional needy cat, peering down from the roof curiously at me.  He must have been the pitter patter that we heard above Sissy’s room.  Upon seeing us, he began to whine and wheeze.  He is the only cat I know that constantly sounds like he has “kitty asthma” and feels like he must be held at all times.  He started to cry and I handed him down the ladder to Sissy’s waiting arms. (in a future posting I will fill you all in on Zackary’s very sad history and how we acquired him…it is too sad to goin into now)

My curious girl then wanted her turn to check out the attic.  The next thing I know she is up the ladder and crawling back through 100 year old insulation while exclaiming “OHHHHHH….Cooooool.”  She started handing dusty items down to me almost immediately.  “Mom, I found treasures!” She yelled.  Out came a decrepit looking suitcase,  a gunny sack with pieces of scrolled wood tied inside, and a three part hinged screen complete with the original vintage fabric intact!

We brought each very dirty item into the house, dropping insulation along the floor.  I was told later it was probably FULL of asbestos.  The suitcase was locked, but we eventually picked the lock only to find….air in it.  It did have a tag, a date – 11/08/02 and the name Mrs. Alan Dreffield on it though.  The scrolled pieces of wood looked to be a sewing cabinet that had been dismantled and saved.  We will be handing it over to my brother in law to restore.  The screen is beautiful!  The wood is old and, chippy, painted a shabby cream color.  The antique fabric is a burgundy and cream damask with roses and paisley swirls.

I have been a “rummager” all my life.  There are countless items I brought with me to our cottage that I rescued from the barn, chicken coop, and attics at Hank and Maud’s homestead.  During the years married to Bill I have rescued, a stone topped wash-stand, an iron Victrola stand and pieces of Roseville Pottery just to name a few discoveries. 

Sissy and I had the best time together cleaning up our new found items and displaying them in our cottage.  We know that Mrs. Alan Dreffield is happy that we rescued her belongings.  They are now very precious to us.

The next night was another night for discovery….just not treasures in the attic.  Sissy and I had to sit before the Juvenile Diversion Board as a consequence to her newly acquired MIP Halloween weekend. 

We arrived at the County Juvenile waiting room to find it quite full with only two places left to sit.  The group that waited with us I would have to say had probably never been the type of gathering that that particular waiting room had seen.  I would have to assume that the usual category of “perps’ that waited here ranged from “at risk youth”, “gangster want-to-be’s”, and poor teenagers with no family support.  Our group was compromised of the ASB president and his parents, two star girl’s basketball players and their parents, two varsity cheerleaders (one being Sissy) with mommies, and the National Honor Society president with his mother.  If you averaged the GPA of the students in the room it was easily 3.9.  Each student was a member of one or more volunteer clubs at school – Key Club, NHS, and Student Counsel just to name a few.  You would think this group should have been waiting together to apply for scholarships and not Minor In Possession repercussions.

One by one the students were called into the inner rooms with their parents.  The clock slowly ticked on as one by one….each child emerged with their parents….bawling.  Sissy and I were last.  The probation officer came out finally to tell us we had been put into the last spot as there was a conflict with both of us and a member of one of the panels.  (We later found out he was Bill’s best friend and asked to be removed from our panel)  When finally it was our turn, we were led back to sit before three people.  A Juvenile supervisor Teresa, and older man Dale, and an elderly woman Nicki.    Before Sissy had even sat down Nicki barraged her with questions.  “If you are such an upstanding student why were you at a party with alcohol?  What in the hell were you thinking?  Did you know there was POT at this party which is also illegal?  I don’t care how much you drank or what you blew – ANY amount of alcohol in you, young lady, is ILLEGAL.  So you want to be a nurse?  What nursing school is going to let you in with THIS in your past?”  Sissy lip began quivering almost instantly.  Huge tears slid down her face.  Dale asked her what kinds of friends she really had.  “Do friends make you let go of your dreams and goals?  I think not.” He roared.  

I knew what their objective was.  I knew that the kids that sat before them needed this “Scared Straight” tactic.  I didn’t feel for one minute that Sissy shouldn’t face consequences for her actions.  I didn’t want to make excuses for her….at all…..but then when Nicki barked “What did YOU think MOM when you got the call that your GOOD daughter just received an MIP?”

 

I did it….I pulled the “Bill Card”.  Didn’t want to, didn’t think it was prudent…but I looked over at my reason for living…sobbing in the chair next to me and answered:

“I thought that this little girl before you has made it through a trauma that none of us should ever have to face.  Do you happen to know our story, this being such a small town?”  They each nodded and said Yes, they were aware of what we had gone through with her father.  “My girl,” I continued “has pulled herself up by her boot-straps from a situation that would have emotionally ruined most children her age.”  I swallowed the lump growing in my throat.  “We have been through a nightmare because of the actions of her father.  I watch her continue to smile each day, when she shouldn’t.  Watch her do her homework and get good grades when she should be “cutting and puking”.   I saw her shine on when she should have been dulled by this horrendous incident.”   I thought back to the moment I did get the call about her MIP and said “I was frightened that her scars may have caught up with her and was sending her down that slippery slope of drinking to dull her pain.  I was terrified of our nightmare finally taking her from me.”

They all sat there.  Said nothing.  Blinked a few times.  Then promptly gave Sissy:

16 hours of community service

6 hours of Alcohol classes

2 hours at a victim’s panel

Suspended her driver’s permit

Put her on probation until February 18^th (Her father’s birthday)

So much for playing the “Bill Card”.  Yep, it could have been worse, BUT, it could have been like two of the other children who sat before the panel with Bill’s best friend.  They were given ESSAYS TO WRITE. 

 

That’s it. 

ESSAYS. 

We walked the block home to our cottage (how nice and convenient that we live so close to the Juvenile).  Sissy sobbed and hiccuped all the way home to her bed.  I lay with her until she stopped.  Then, I spent the next two hours convincing her that she WAS a wonderful, strong, smart, brave young lady.  She WOULD become a nurse someday.  She would triumph over the Bill nightmare.  She would accept that for some reason God felt THIS great group of kids needed to be caught and stopped before they strayed from their individual path of greatness.  And that maybe….Nicki’s wrinkly, snarly, old self was put on this earth to help little Gangsters….but she wasn’t needed to scare my little princess straight.  Sissy has already shown the path she’s headed down….and it is looking pretty good…and straight.