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  • Sundays, My Mom got some time off. We went to Sunday School, she stayed home. We never went to Church. But, we were living off the AIir Force base at that time, so Sunday School on base was about an hr drive each way.She would get up and make oatmeal, 4 boys, 3 girls, dressed in lots of lace, white suits and ties,gloves and bows, off we went. My Dad would drive, and he would drop us off at Sunday School. Besides signing us up, He never went in the building. Either did Mom. Not including the hr. commute ea way, it would be 2 hrs. for all of us to attend the different available classes, music, choir. They signed us up for everything that would take time. I was separated the entire time due to my age, two younger brothers, 11 mos apart, same classes. 2 older brothers 13 mos apart. Me in the middle. Two yrs apart from everybody. Two older sisters 9 mos apart, (yes) . What my Dad did in those two hrs in the VW Bus, I have no idea. I think he slept, or smoked his Pall Malls.. As Sunday school was finished, the kids one by one, hopped in the VW . One at a time, ready to hit the rd. Colored pictures of Jesus, word searches about Genesis... vivid color handouts that scared us about burning in Hell ( This was Texas) and Dad would hit the rd. another hr. home, so Mom, had a 4 hr break from mothering. All good...but often, probably once a month, Dad would forget me.
    I had no "buddy" sibling like the others. Middle of 4 boys, 2 older sisters. My class got out about 10 min's later then the other kids. I would go out, and see, the bus was gone. No cell phones then. I would sit on the step. Throw rocks, count the daisies on my lace trim, sing, play with the big fire ants. watch them carry eggs on their backs, try to rub the freckles off of my arms... make paper airplanes from the Jesus stuff.. I just waited. 2 hrs later, there was Dad. Laughing about forgetting me. Another hr. later, we would get home.

    The next time it happened, as told do do so, I went into the office, called Mom at home, and she would say " Oh Sarah, did Daddy forget you AGAIN?!!!!!! She sounded pissed.
    And the same sit on the step routine, and wait, in the hot sun. This went on and on in my childhood. I kept being "forgotten". Find an adult, with a phone in the office somewhere...Call Mom...it was a constant for yrs and yrs.

    But it didn't make me sad.

    Because, those trips home with Dad, just he and I, were so fun. I got to sit in the front seat.We would sing Johnny Cash out loud, very loud . Screaming loud, crackin' up.Tipping our chins low low low to the low notes to "Because you're mine..(so low) I walk the line..." Look at each other and laugh...... We would stop for a cold glass bottle of orange crush from the real 5 cent machine, and 2 whole candy bars. ( Unheard of) It was so amazing. I felt special, and I felt loved. And, I was happy.
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