by Donna Swagerty Shreve
(Questions were usually answered) 1955
My friend and I stood in our dining room, which had a large picture window that looked out onto our patio. My friend gasped and told me not to look. Of course, the first thing I did was look. There were my parents, standing in a close embrace, kissing. My reaction was, “Oh, they do that all the time.” I realized then that was not the usual behavior in all households.
By the time I was ten years old I had big questions. I had been in school long enough to hear about strange things adults did with each other. At first, when I asked how babies were made, my mother responded with some religious explanation about God choosing married people to have babies. I knew my mother had stopped attending church so that answer left me with doubts. I heard friends’ versions of what they had heard and the various bits and pieces sounded even more illogical.
I started battering my parents with all sorts of questions that were usually put off until later. Finally they had had enough and somehow found a time when all of my siblings were not in the house. I am guessing my then one-year-old brother must have been taking a nap. I can actually visualize the living room where we had the chat. Mom and Dad sat on the sofa together and I perched in the big over stuffed chair facing them. I fired away with my questions and they calmly answered them. When if finally sunk in what the baby making process was I responded with, “You did that four times!” Mom’s answer was quite amazing. She replied, “No, actually we try to do it at least twice a week.” I was dumbfounded but finally speechless. What else could I ask? They were both so solid and calm. Mom then warned me not to share with my friends, especially with the neighbor next door. Mom told me that each set of parents had their own way of sharing and I was not to be the source of that information for my friend. I do remember I shared with Dana, my neighbor, before the sun set that day. My parents knew this because the neighbor mother complained to Mom the next day.
Growing up there were always signs of affection between my parents. One morning I noticed that the rocking chair in the living room was broken. I was in high school at the time. I inquired at breakfast why the rocking chair was broken as it had been fine when I went to bed the night before. Mom giggled and said, “Floyd was too frisky last night and we got carried away.” I stopped asking any more about the chair.
By the time I attended college, the family moved to a much bigger home close to the University of the Pacific. After spending a year and a half on campus, I moved back home, which was a block away. It saved me so much money. One of my engagement presents was a beautiful hope chest that I still use to this day. The hope chest contained, among other items, a paperback book from my mother on sexual positions, special zones of both male and female that were especially receptive. Mom explained she and Dad had found it so helpful. I should note that John, my future husband, was living in El Paso so she felt it safe to give me such knowledge.
One evening, I studied up in my room for my college classes. I finally had a room to myself. Mom knocked on the door and asked if she could come in. She was wearing cute baby doll lingerie. She went over to my hope chest and opened it up to borrow that book she had given me. I watched in amazement as she said, “Floyd told me to reread chapter 3!” She then turned and giggled her way out of the room.
What I find amusing is that after I was married, my Dad asked me some interesting questions that I was surprised he didn’t know. I calmly answered him and did not get embarrassed or judgmental that he didn’t know certain slang terms for certain sexual acts. It should be a two way street.
I was lucky that I was the oldest and full of questions. Dad and Mom just had to decide when to answer me. My siblings found it much easier to just ask me. I usually referred them to Dad or Mom but they insisted that would be too embarrassing. I remember begging my father to have “the talk” with each of my brothers when their questions got to a point where they needed to be answered and I felt Dad should be the one to explain. My sister was quite a swimmer and I had to give her lessons on how to use a tampon when she had her first period and still needed to swim. Mom found out Jane had started having periods because Jane’s coach at the time remarked to Mom that he hoped Jane’s period wouldn’t slow her down at some important swim meet.
I tried to pass on the calm rational approach to my sons. I overdid the talk when my oldest son replied to the knowledge of planting a seed with, “You mean with a shovel?” He obviously was not ready at that point. At a certain point I realized
I did too good of a job with one of my sons. I had to remind him that I was his mother and there are certain things a son should not share with his mother. It will be interesting to see how my son handles the big questions with his son. Michael is already horrified to find out that Zeus and all of the other gods and Mount Olympus really doesn’t exist.
991 words
12/27/2016
Swagerty-Aldrich Family Web Site 