Mama's Trio - Sitting On the Jagged Edge of the Pew

It was 1954 and it seemed to me that everyonesettle in, Mother would open her eyes wide, set her
was talking about building bomb shelters. Rock andmouth with a pleasant professional half-smile, and lift
Roll was causing quite a stir, and old "I LIKE IKE"her chin even higher to suggest the utmost in
buttons were still hanging on Mama and Daddy'sclassical decorum. That's when it would happen.
dresser. New Mexico was a Democratic State andJanine and I, able to see each other peripherally,
Daddy was one of the few Republicans whowould fall helplessly into giggling, which would earn
admitted they were Republicans.each of us an immediate painful pinch behind the
This was Daddy's second year at this church, andpulpit where no one could see. Mother's pinches were
already there was talk of building a new sanctuaryalways painful enough to modify our behavior, and
with lots of classrooms. Mama had outdone herself inonce we composed ourselves, the show would go
this full-time ministry. The people appreciated heron.
musical abilities as well as her ability to get thingsOnce we were safely seated in our middle pew,
done. There were duets, trios, quartets,however, the scenario would be replayed during
all-girl-sextets, instrumental groups, and any otherDaddy's sermon as I whispered, giggled, imitated
type of special music one could imagine. The churchMother, and ignored her incessant coughing from the
members felt Mama was "doing them proud," andback pew.
she loved all the attention she was getting.I think the church members must have thought
Janine and I usually seemed to be in trouble forMother had tuberculosis.
giggling in church and Mama always sat on the backI'm sure no one knew how important laughter was
pew during Daddy's sermons. From that vantageto me. With all of the inconsistencies between my
point she could scrutinize not only our behavior, but"perfectly happy" public life and my abusive home life,
also the behavior of the entire congregation. SheI took every opportunity to act out in a public
noticed who slept during the sermon, who seemedsetting. I knew her Patrician upbringing, and her need
to be under conviction, who wasn't in church thatfor the appearance of perfection would ensure my
day, and other helpful information which wouldsafety in church; however, it was as though I was
always be given to Daddy over Sunday Dinner.always sitting on the jagged edge of the pew -
Mother coughed when we giggled or whispered,waiting for the inevitable consequences of being bad.
coughed when Daddy's sermon was runningThe tension was so great inside me, I had to either
over-time, and coughed when Daddy made anotherlaugh or go completely insane.
grammatical error. Her coughing gave us ampleIn the summer before the fourth grade, I finally got
material to fuel the laughter, especially after shea friend. We met at church and something just
recruited us into her trio. Mother thought of it as jobclicked between us. Her name was Patricia Sue Taft,
security to show the congregation how talented theand she was eight months older than I, so she was
pastor's family was.going into the fifth grade. Patty had long red hair, big
After the hymns, the announcements, the offertory,jade-green eyes, and a body I wished was mine.
and the Doxology, Janine and I knew it wasMama wasn't too crazy about my new friend from
ShowTime for us. It was called "special music," ofthe start. Her father was a new convert who used
course, and wasn't supposed to show any similarityto drink, her mother was in a mental institution, and
to show business, but it always seemed like show bizPatty had the nerve to wear short-shorts and go to
to me. Janine and I would watch Mother rise frommovies.
her piano bench, and, like Leonard Bernstein posturingPatty taught me to love horseback riding and
before the New York Philharmonic, she'd walk, musicmountain climbing. Together, we read every Nancy
in hand, to center stage. My sister and I wouldDrew book published, waited for the Library Van on
obediently follow from the choir loft.Saturday, and built our own happy reality through
Janine and I would watch in humorous amazement asbooks.
Mother's demeanor and posture metamorphosed intoThe best thing about Patty was that she never
that of an opera singer: squared shoulders, tuckedlaughed at me like the other kids did, for getting into
pelvis, her ample chest pushed forward, hands heldtrouble or being fat. She encouraged me constantly,
together in front, and chin up. Janine, who sang alto,telling me she'd trade her body for my beautiful face
would stand on Mother's left. I, who sang the tenorany day of the week. She knew what it was to live
part an octave higher than it was written, wouldwith pain at home, and she just accepted me as I
stand on Mother's right. We knew to wait for Motherwas, period. I, in turn, gave her the courage to be
to pull herself up to her full 5'9" height, take a deepmore daring: to reach beyond her grasp. She went
breath, and give a cursory glance over thealong with most of my schemes, and we had too
congregation.much fun to think about our problems. She was a gift
Then, as she would look left to cue the substitutefrom God: a friend born for such a horrifying time as
pianist, Janine's eyes and mine would meet, butwas coming.
quickly look away lest we fall into laughter. A hush[This is an excerpt from God's Battered Child:
would fall over the congregation and after pausingJourney from Abuse to Leader, available at and at all
just long enough to let the poignancy of the momentonline stores.