A Normal Kid

NOTE: To protect the identities and confidentially of everyone involved with the exception of Aunt Zoe all names and when possible all locations have been changed.

I came into this world probably with a mouth on me already on what I’m sure was another cold October day in Cherokee, Iowa. My mom would tell me years later that four years in a row my birthday party would get postponed due to the weather. Winters in Iowa are rough. I saw snow as early as September and as late as May. Subzero temperatures were normal.  Schools were known to schedule the end of the year a week later to account for snow days.  I was given the name Jolene Melva.    

My mom moved in with our elderly Aunt Zoe (AZ as she was affectionately called) after she found out I was on the way. In this case Zoe rhymed with Joe and she wasn’t Zoey like so many people loved to call her. She had a twin brother. Aunt Zoe’s middle name was also Melva; hence my name. From what I was told Aunt Zoe’s face lit up when she learned I was being named after her. In grade school one of my school assignments was to interview a senior citizen. The kids in class said I had an unfair advantage since I lived with one. 

While I was far from a normal girl, my first ten years were that of a normal kid. Even though I was an only child there were neighbor kids. We also lived on a dead end street so we had our own mini playground out our front door. Growing up before technology took over we would play kickball in the street in the warm months. There was also a ravine at the end of the road with a small hill that was suitable for sledding in the cold months. We would hop on our bikes and ride to the closest store where we could get a can of pop and a candy bar for a dollar.

My mom had two friends that I can remember. Linda had two kids a little older than I was.  I have memories of being at the park with Keith and Karla. We would play at the park while Linda and mom sat by the water. My mom did love to watch water. After Linda got married my mom never looked at her the same. Mom’s other friend Patty was a registered nurse and their schedules didn’t permit for them to see much of each other as I got older.   

I found a love of sports from as a young as I can remember. When I was four my mom wanted to take me to the Christmas matinee on Sunday afternoon and I wanted to watch the football game on TV. That’s how it was told to me anyway. That’s when she knew she was raising a tomboy and decided she better like sports too. While I took a liking to the Green Bay Packers, she liked the Miami Dolphins.

Kickball was usually the game of choice growing up. At recess and in gym class the other kids would back up when it was my turn to kick. It’s no wonder I would be the punter on a women’s football team decades later. I was a pretty good hitter on the softball field as well. Over the summer I took swim lessons and swam on the swim team. 

Since we had Aunt Zoe my mom only worked part time. The first job I remember her having was as a counselor for Alcoholics Anonymous at our local hospital. She was asked to move to Des Moines when I was six and the program was transferred. She turned down the offer saying that she felt the need to take care of Aunt Zoe and we also had grandma nearby.  Grandma was employed at the local mental health hospital just a few years shy of retirement. My mom then got a job at a small local retailer. 

Aunt Zoe never had kids. I would learn years later she had three miscarriages and I was the child she never had. She was the one who would help me with my schoolwork and ask me about my day at school while mom watched TV. Aunt Zoe would sit in her seat on the davenport as she called it and have me read the newspaper, particularly Dear Abby to her.  She would also give me my spelling words. Living with a senior citizen I saw every game show and episode of the Golden Girls. To this day I still watch the Golden Girls and say I’m honoring my Aunt Zoe.

I vaguely remember Aunt Zoe playing ball with me in the yard. On occasion a neighbor kid would join us. Unfortunately, by the time I got to be six or seven she had crippling arthritis and couldn’t do anything except sit on the couch, excuse me, davenport. She also had an artificial hip and two artificial knees. I have little memory of her second knee replacement, but enough to remember it happened. 

We got our first dog when I was six. Our cat’s name was Pepper because he was black and gray. The dog was pure white when we first brought her home so I wanted to name her Salt, but neither of them liked that. I then opted for Green Bay Packer, but lost that fight too. We finally agreed on Buffy. Buffy was attached to Aunt Zoe almost right away and became her dog. She would sit forward on the couch so Buffy could sit behind her. That would become a cherished memory for everyone. Years later people would still laugh at it.     

The first year of her life Buffy won best of show at the pet show held annually at a local nursing home. The residents loved the pet show. Being in a nursing home seeing kids and their pets was a treat for them.   

Mom and I attended church every Sunday. Pastor Franklin led us while his wife played the piano and their daughter Amanda was on the praise and worship team which Barb led. By this time the church had grown some. We were meeting in what used to be a four or so bedroom house in a small neighboring town in the middle of the bigger towns everyone was coming from. The girls in church were wearing their dress clothes with their hair and make-up done; I was in jeans, a t-shirt and tennis shoes. If it had been appropriate I would’ve worn a hat, however I knew better. I was never seen around town without a hat. 

I’m not sure if I asked or if others just started it, but not long into my childhood everyone began calling me Jo. Honestly, it was probably a little of both. My mom didn’t like it. Jo is a boy’s name and if she would’ve had any idea people were going to call me Jo, she never would’ve named me Jolene. It fit my personality to be called Jo, but when others would call me that she would tell them that’s not my name. That would be something my mom and I battled for as long as I can remember.

In the fourth grade I was put in a special reading class when I scored lower than average on a reading comprehension test. Aunt Zoe worked with me on my reading. My mom just prayed and claimed in the name of Jesus that I don’t have any more reading problems.

Little by little the neighbor kids moved away when their parents got different jobs.  Whitney, who was the next door neighbor stayed for a little while longer. She was not into playing sports and was more our cheerleader when the rest of us would play in the street.  However, we still were friends. 

When I was 11 Aunt Zoe was admitted to the hospital because of a blood clot on her leg.  The church was praying for her. Mom and I visited her in the hospital that night. Mom told her to expect a miracle. The next morning we got the call that she had a heart attack and was no longer with us. I know now that is when my battle with depression started.