50 Years ago today

I was 5 years old.
Mom and Dad must have been at work.
My kindergarten was 3 houses down from our house.
Somehow I ended up with Mrs. Kuethe.
She was inconsolable that day, that day JFK was gunned down,
in the height of his perfection,
not a cloud in the sky.

I was 5.
What did I know of consoling the inconsolable?
It turns out, plenty.
I sat there, catching tears, holding her shaking trembling, wet hand.
She clasped my tiny hand in hers and gave me her half toothless grin,
struggling to smile until a wave of grief knocked her over again.

I was jealous of JFK's daughter, living that perfect lifestyle by
what we saw in the media,
we are about the same age.
That day it all changed.
I was relieved my father was never gunned down in the streets.

This painting I have posted twice,
once more for JFK,
a truly great man,
and his family that remain,
may they have peace this day.

 

 

What she was watching on the TV.

 

 

Mrs. K

Mrs. Kuethe
Would have been 107 tomorrow, October 13th. 2 days after Nancy's only she had all the Friday the 13ths...
She lived next door to the house I grew up in on High Street. I remember her eager smile, whiskered chin,
dimpled girlish laugh sometimes. I would stand on the porch, telltale boards creaking as I approached.
But she would have already known I was headed down the hill, the curtain fluttering ever so subtely and her running to greet me, "Mareeee", she would say, like an exaggerated Marie. Then she would repeat my name
over and over. We all love hearing our name said outloud, that was not quite my name but close enough
to relish in that extreme adoration Adoration I lost when I lost my last grandparent so young I don't remember any of my natural grandparents. Mrs. Kuethe was there waiting for me to toddle down the hill
away from the hustle of a 7 child family. She and Herman spent many a night fanning on the porch with me sitting at their feet listening to them breathe and rock and make brief comments and then nodding off occasionally. Herman lit his pipe and Mrs. Kuethe would mouth words as she fell in and out of twilight.
She would have loved seeing the leaves change, and being by my side today.
I feel the same way, Happy Birthday Mrs, Kuethe.
I don't think I ever knew her real first name...emily? emmy? amelia?