Scary Times

It was a frightening time for a child. My small safe space had been turned upside down by World War II. Within a few years of that came the Texas City explosion and the tornado which destroyed Woodward, Oklahoma not far from us.

All the adults in my tiny sphere said it spelled the end of the world. My grandmother was certain of it. She wouldn't say it just to scare me. Hadn't she always been my comfort, my joy?

After all, she never made me eat blackeyed peas or boiled chicken and when I wrote on her new wallpaper, she protected me from my mother. We played house and she let me call her "Lady." Would she predict doom if it wasn't imminent?

And my aunts? They understood a child's need for fun and laughter. Always loving, they kept a stash of treats for me or bought me a gift just when I needed it the most. Would they frighten me with all this talk of "the end" if it wasn't an absolute?

Why didn't I confide in my mother? I suspect it was because mothers never lie and I was scared she'd tell me the end was, indeed, near.

My grandmother and aunts talked of the sermons about resurrection at their church. They spoke eagerly of anticipating the Second-Coming. My first thought? "Good gosh, why? I haven't even gotten to wear lipstick or high heels, yet." Those were the things I eagerly anticipated.

They weren't being thoughtless in voicing their conjectures in my presence. As adults our priorities change. They had experienced all I could only envision. Secure in their beliefs, they looked forward to eternity.

I know they never would have discussed the end of the world in front of me if they had known how terrified I was. So terrified I lay awake at night frozen with fright at the thought my world might end. No, they wouldn't have subjected me to that if they'd known. They loved me too much.

Lookin' back, I remember all the times I subjected my children to the evening news. David Brinkley and Chet Huntley gave us explicit details of all the horrific natural disasters and the events of the Vietnam War. Were my children frightened? I hope not, but how thoughtless of me. If they were scared, and had asked, I'd have lied and said everything was wonderful.