Raising Daisy, A Patchwork Road, Part 2

I walked into the kitchen. There in the orange colored rattan chair beside the heavy round oak antique table, sat her book satchel. It was supposed to be on the desk in the living room. Her book satchel contained her new Toshiba laptop computer. As an attempt to put some structure into her life, and I suppose, my own, I made a policy that her laptop would be put on the desk daily after school. I figured this would save us many harried mornings looking for where she left her computer last, while attempting to get her out of the house and on the bus in time to get to school.

She was out in the pasture where Jim’s truck was parked. A large pile of prunings were burning. The smoke was billowing into the sky, white like cumulus clouds. She and Jim were standing on the other side of his truck, talking. Mt. Rainier stood in the distance, and made me sigh to see it’s beauty. Not always visible, but clear days the mountain came out.

I was wondering if Jim found his glasses, and if not, if Daisy had found them, and was holding out for more money than the dollar he offered her to help find them.

What a team they were! Daisy was almost 13, she was playful and mischievous, and often lacked discretion as most kids do. Everyone liked Daisy. Jim got angry with her at times for doing things without thinking, but he liked her, and was a positive influence on her. Jim was our landlord, and this was his family home where we lived with 3 others. He was over here a lot, had a shop in the basement, did his laundry here, and came and went as if he lived here. He was very nice, and well educated, warm, and caring, a marshmallow! He joked with Daisy, and said that she conned him. He encouraged her to take school more seriously. Once a school teacher, now Jim just tended his rental properties. He didn’t go on fancy vacations, he drove an,” old,” truck, and worked hard everyday. He and I felt the same way about schools, we didn’t like them, we felt they were not on track, not offering kids what they need. Jim enjoyed his life, was a bachelor. He and I had a great friendship, enjoyed each other’s company, had long chats concerning politics, religions, the usual no’s, and told stories back and forth, appreciated art, and Daisy, of course!

Daisy was always interested in what he was up to, and liked to shoot baskets with him, and talk him into taking her and her friends to the store for ice cream, and out of money. He called her Dais, and they were a pair to behold. He was gullible and she was not. Her sense of humor was dry and unlikely for a kid her age. She was bright. Jim was fun! She and Jim had a sort of father/daughter relationship! She had a cat that was a good moler, so she got a dollar bill from Jim for every mole the cat drug up! Jim said she cut the tails off the shrews and placed them by the door to collect more money, but he was kidding, afterall, a shrew was hard to catch! She made some money, without trying too hard.

She fed one of the horses in the pasture, got a dollar a day for that. Never did have to tell her to do it, and if we were going away, she’d call the gal that owned the horse, and tell her she had to come feed the horse herself. It was one of the few responsibilities she just took care of all alone, without encouragement, to put it nicely! She would have done it for free though, she liked the girl, and she liked the horse! That’s really why she took the responsibility, not because of the money. She took care of the old pony too, but didn’t get paid. She had saved the ponies life more than once! I don’t know that the woman with the pony noticed, or cared. We saw all kinds here, they came and went, and we were left with experience. I knew it was a great teacher for her, and I relied on it.

I knew that the most valuable experience I could offer Daisy was not to try to control what she did or didn’t do, but rather to find ways of gaining her cooperation. This I hoped to accomplish by exposing her to a variety of safe people who would influence her. That is why I chose to live this way, in a home share with 3 others. It was the family we didn’t have, even if people came and went she would be left with memories, and rich experiences. Daisy had been adopted by the Lakota’s, a rare privilege. One of our roommates was responsible for taking her to learn their meetings.

This morning I watched her out the kitchen window. My face was hidden behind the plant on the sill. It was drizzling, the Mountain, (Rainier) was not visible today. She took the 7 pound maul from the wood box on the porch, and carefully chopped kindling from the logs. She worked safely enough, but I was concerned. I can’t chop these days. I can hardly walk, it’s this painful arthritis in my hip. She missed the bus this morning, and I can’t drive her to school, so we worked on redecorating her room in an African Savannah theme. She was very excited about it, picked it out herself for her 13th birthday present. I want her to have a nice cozy room where she can enjoy music, and reading , and her computer. A nice fantasy, but a few days later her room will be a big mess again, the floor covered with clothes.

She chopped kindling, and brought charcoal briquettes into the kitchen to add to the few small burning coals we had left in the wood stove. I thought it was a good idea, I never would have thought of it! She saved us from the cold! We worked on her room for a long time. I can’t believe how much stuff she had hoarded in there.

My family of origin is dead. I am young, and I feel alone, and like life has been maybe, too, adventurous. Raising Daisy is a sweet experience, a gift, now 6 years later, I wish I could do it all over again, and be more available, less scared, more rooted.

The divorce was hard for us both, It was the last thing she needed to happen to her, but yet, we got to live here, in the land of the beautiful trees, mountains, and lush temperate rain forest. All that I miss of the south are the mockingbirds songs.

Later on,when Daisy left, I was like a computer that was frozen up, and I was mystified, it took 6 months to realize it was because I missed her. She had become my entire life. Every decision I made I did was first funneled through what I wanted to be good for her. I tried to make the best decisions under the circumstances, but it was so different from any life I had lived. I made a new lifestyle for us both. A year later, I still had new paths in my brain to connect so I could begin thinking about me, and here a few years later, I am still dealing with who I am, and what to do, and I miss her and our life here so much. I want that little girl back in my life again. We skated together, hiked together, went to art openings, and plays, and to the beach, and I was in shock all that time, from the divorce and the sudden jolt of realization that my family had died all before I was 32 years old, and it didn’t hit until the divorce did. It seems I am always behind the shock of the moment, and left dealing with things long after the fact.

Daisy is a special person. I have never known anyone like her. She captures your heart. She has a big one of her own, and she is so incredible. Her teachers, especially the women, often want to make her into what they think a girl should be. She is a tomboy, very strong, very beautiful. Not to be tampered with, to be made into any idea of what someone else perceives a girl to be or not be.

She has so many friends, and they come over here to have fun, they help her to clean her room so she can go play. I love all her friends; they are like mine, too. I teach them spelling, literature, take them hiking, and to the beach, we are a happy family. People love to please Daisy for some reason. What a spirit she has. And she doesn’t know, what an incredible soul she is. I want her to know, and to feel safe and whole.

I sit here today, looking at the fog creeping towards my window in the early morning, and remember her walking up the road towards the bus stop, vanishing in the fog. It seems she has vanished from my life, and left me with a heavy heart, like a lump of cement in my chest, heavy with the weight of desire to have her back again. What a precious flower, that one! A funny, bright, sweet, and hard headed child.

She walked this road to the neighbors to await the bus, in those days, a cock crows, and she said, “ Got a new rooster?” Jonah said, “ I don’t know where it came from, it just showed up crowing and waking us up this morning.” Daisy is quiet, as she smiles hiding her face, it is Ben, our rooster that awakened her every day, she awoke dropped him off so at his house he would not awaken her anymore. That’s my Daisy.

copyright Sherry M Stewart 1996