The topic of this blog is my personal childhood web.
I am to think of at least five people who helped me grow, cared for me, and
made me feel special.
I will start were most people will start:
Mary Clare Madden Jordan, My Mother
My Mother had five children in the first seven years
of her marriage. I was the first born. Because of this, my Mother relied on me
to help with my younger siblings quite a bit. I wasn’t expected to be a built
in babysitter, but a protector. My Mother showed me how much she trusted me by entrusting
me with responsibilities. She provided love, support, and guidance along the
way. I remember the way she taught us to shop. She gave each of us a few
dollars and one or two items to go and find, bring to the register, and pay
for. She would wait at the front of the store for us to complete our tasks. It
would have been easier to just grab a cart and pick up the items herself (and
faster if she left us with our Grandmother), but she wanted us to learn the
skill. Once I married and moved from the house I grew up in, I stayed within a
few miles, wanting her to have the same close relationship with my children.
She and I even worked in the same classroom for 13 years. To this day, we speak
to each other several times a week.
My
Mom and I with one of our first students.
Anthony Edward Jordan, My Father
When I was growing up, my Dad worked as a traveling
salesman for a building products company. This meant that he was on the road,
sleeping in hotels for at least 2-3 nights per week. In addition, he served as
a volunteer fire fighter, which meant that he spent a good amount of time in
training, on calls, or working on ways to help the company raise money. When I
was young, I didn’t think too much about that fact that he wasn’t around much,
since my Mother was always there. Fathers had a much different role in the 60’s
and 70’s than they do today. I did have the typical resentful feelings when he
wasn’t around when I wanted to do something, or when we had to quickly leave
somewhere because he had to respond to a fire call. As I got older and more
mature, I realized that he didn’t like being away from us any more than we did.
He did it because it was his job and it provided a roof over our heads and food
on out table. He joined the fire company not to escape his family, but because
he felt it was his duty to protect his community. This dedication to service
inspired my daughter, my husband, my youngest son, and my brother to follow in
his footsteps. They all serve as volunteer fire fighters, and in addition, my
husband, son, and daughter serve on the volunteer ambulance crew as well. As
with my Mom, he and I speak several times a week.
My
Dad, and the fire fighters he inspired
Bernetta Gettings Jordan, My Paternal Grandmother
I was the first grandchild, and because of this, I
had a very close relationship with my Grandma Jordan. As a young child, I spent
a great deal of time with my Grandma. We would take the bus into town and run
errands, or walk to the local stores to shop. I would sleep over her house
whenever I could. She would bake with me (to this day I wish I had her recipe
for doughnuts), or let me play with her jewelry, or tell me stories about her
life. As I got older, I continued to spend a great deal of time with her, but
the roles reversed as her health declined, and I cared for her. She passed away
during my senior year of high school, and not a day goes by that I don’t miss
her. I believe that she is watching over me to this day. After all, I was
awarded to scholarship to attend the college that she wanted me to attend just
a few weeks after she passed. A few years later, I gave birth to twins
(something she always said I would do since my Mom didn’t have any, and they
run in our family).
Grandma
Jordan, with her 3 sons
Harold Maurice Jordan, My Uncle
Uncle Harold was my Dad’s older brother. He never
married, and never had any children, so he spent a great deal of time with me
and my siblings. Each February, he would take me and my sister Anne Marie out
for a fancy meal in a nice restaurant to celebrate our birthdays. He would let
us order anything we wanted on the menu, and encouraged us to order things we
never ate before, just to try them. Afterwards, we would go to a special event,
like a magic show of musical concert. He
would take us to the local amusement park, and let us ride until we got dizzy.
He always rode with us, even when we got a little older and started liking the
fast and crazy rides! He would take us for special treats that he knew our
parents couldn’t afford, but never let on that money was tight for them. He
came to school concerts, sporting events, and plays. He even paid for the
flowers when I got married. Uncle Harold passed away five years ago. His absence
is felt every day.
Uncle
Mike, Uncle Harold, and Dad
Anne Marie Jordan Scott, Kevin Michael Jordan, Karen
Therese Jordan Cigan, and Eric Xavier Jordan; my siblings
The Jordan kids were always a unit, so I have to
write about us as one. Five kids so close in age is challenging in so many
ways. “Why aren’t you more like your sister?” “I hope you aren’t like your
brother.” “Which one are you again?” It could be enough to make you run
screaming for the hills. But we were raised to love and protect each other
above all else. Family first was drilled into us from a very young age. We
could fight with each other until my Mom would lose her sanity, but God HELP
anyone who crossed one of us, because they had to deal with the rest of us! We
saw each other through mean teachers, bad friendships, broken hearts,
disappointments and failures. We celebrated victories, graduations, marriages,
and births. We always knew that we had a whole gang backing us up, no matter
what we did. Although we don’t all live together (in fact, we don’t all live in
the same state anymore), we remain as close as ever. We text, keep up through
social media, and see each other as often as possible. Between us, we have 11
kids of our own, and we have created childhood webs for each of them in the
same way they were created for us. We attend dance recitals, sporting events,
school functions, and parties for each other’s kids. My sister Anne Marie’s
children attend school in the center where I work, so I drive them home just
about every day, and sometimes pick them up in the morning.
Anne Marie, me,
Kevin, Karen, Eric, and our parents
I was taught to value family above all else by each and
every member of my childhood web. Jobs, friends, material possessions may come
and go, but your family will always be your family.
My parents, me and my
siblings, our spouses and our children (Xander, my sister’s son, was born after
this picture was taken). This photo was taken in celebration of my Mom’s 70th
birthday.
