I first became acquainted with Ethel Wickert when I found out she, too, was a poet. We each had our own way of spreading words on paper.
My poems were written for ones who were troubled by life. Many of my poems made people cry. The majority of Ethel’s poems were funny. By that I mean; she made people laugh. I always felt her writing was the greater gift to the world.
One of my favorite poems she wrote was the one about the time she bought shoes too large.
“They were such a bargain, I couldn’t pass them up,” she said with a smile.
The stanza I liked best, in the poem she wrote about her “too big” shoes – read:
The best shoes that I owned, I bought a size bigger than mine.
With tissue paper in the toes, they looked and fit just fine.
But once when we went dancing, when we twirled around and dipped.
We had to stop – I lost a shoe – my tissue paper slipped.
Then, at age eighty-six her eyesight began to fail, due to macula degeneration. We would share our writing often over the phone, and I bought every book she had gotten printed at a local printers. I can’t remember how many books she told me she’d sold when I asked. But, it was a lot.
When I put my poems into a book, I proudly presented her with one. She thanked me, but said sadly. “I can’t read them, you know.” I didn’t realize her eyesight had gotten so bad.
“Okay, then,” I said. I’ll read them to you.” And I did.
For the next four and a half years, I went every Tuesday and read to Ethel. I read everything she’d written… everything I’d written… and I think everything everyone else had written.
We had so much fun. Once or twice she fell asleep as I read. Once I fell asleep. Sometimes I’d say the wrong word. Like the time one of the characters developed diabetes. I accidentally read it as diarrhea. We laughed so hard.
I never heard her complain one time about not being able to see clearly. I often thought to myself. “Whew, if that was me… the world would know.”
We shared many “little secrets” as she called them. But never were hers derogatory about anyone or anything. Not that she’d had an easy life: in fact, far from it. She raised six children at a time when wringer washers, clotheslines and many other “old fashioned” things were the norm. A time when microwaves were unheard of, and the news was carried into the homes via a radio.
Even though she worked thirty-eight years at the Telephone Company, her children never lacked for love and guidance. They, today, display the same honesty and integrity Ethel always displayed throughout her entire ninety-three years.
I worried that her family would resent me taking every Tuesday of their mother’s life, but they were as gracious as she, and seemed happy to have me there.
Of course, sometimes, things would interfere… such as family vacations etc. Whomever was busy would just call the other and explain, and we’d meet the following week.
People would say to me, “Oh, that’s so nice of you to give up your time to read to Ethel.” But, they didn’t have a clue. It was nice of Ethel to let me read to her. I thought of those days as a special gift from God. I thought of HER as a special gift from God. She was my oasis along the dusty road of life.
Ethel died early Sunday morning September 18, 2005. I was fortunate enough to be able to say good-bye to her the day before. I told her she would have to finish the book we were in the middle of reading by herself. She wasn’t awake when I told her that, but I know she heard me. When I went to see her at the funeral home. I thought it befitting it was a Tuesday.
My memories of Ethel are broad and deep. They are also important because not only was our writing different, our lives were as well. I was a complainer, and a skeptic. She taught me more than she will ever know as I saw a beautiful world through her eyes that could not see.
I no doubt will have to live to be at least ninety-three to learn to see things as she did. When I told her she’d have to finish the book we were reading at the time of her death, by herself… I meant it. And through eyes that are able to see clearly today – if I know Ethel – she has.
Jebaire author, Marcia Leaser, has been writing for forty years and freelancing for over thirty. Her newest book Every Step of the Way is scheduled for release in 2012. She’s married with two grown daughters and five grandchildren. Website: For His Mercy and Grace
