I spent a day at my sister’s house, and then we took a train to San Francisco.
My sister and I have very different outlooks on life. (If you have read any of my stories, you are probably saying, “Yeah, I know you do… unless Shar’s outlook runs in the family!”)
For instance, when we got settled for the 45-minute train trip to San Francisco, I suggested we pray. She was in agreement. I started off, “Dear heavenly Father, thank You that I safely arrived in California to visit Laurie. Please give us a safe trip to and from San Francisco. Help us to have a great time. Help us to meet some nice people…
“Hold it! Hold the prayer! We aren’t meeting anyone!”
So…you get the picture.
We had a grand time walking up and down the streets, walking the wharf, buying maternity clothes and just having a good sisterly time.
However, after the wonderful trip, I returned home and miscarried at 6 weeks. My uncle said, “She had no business going to San Francisco. She walked that baby out!”
Well, it was back to square one. We started with the temperature taking all over again.
Trying to conceive is an emotionally draining business. For half the month you are in high expectations that “this is the month”. And for the other half of the month, you are depressed because it turned out to be “not the month”. The highs and lows were nerve racking.
In May 1992, my Mom and I went to visit relatives in Dollarhide, Alabama. It was so named because the early settlers, my maternal family, sold animal hides for a dollar. Mom and I stayed with Uncle Richard and Aunt Mamie (my grandfather’s sister). I hadn’t seen them in 20+ years.
Upon arrival, I was questioned:
“Where you live now?”
“What kind of work you do?’
“How many children you got?”
“What!! No children?!! Girl, I’m gonna take you to see what happens to old folks that don’t have no children!”