Big Mama, collage, e. schoettler
Talking with my sister Kathy today.
"Where is your small pox vaccination scar?" she asked.
I had to think a minute.
"On my leg. On the outside of my leg, at the hip. "
"Mine is too, and so is Lynda's."
"That's how they did it when we had them. For girls anyway."
She corrected me. "no, that's not how they did it - for everybody.
Mama made sure that's how we had ours done."
It triggered a memory. Kathy went on.
"Don't you remember. She said she had such an ugly small pox vaccination scar on her arm that she made them do it on our legs - so that her girls could wear sleeveless blouses."
"That's right. I had forgotten. Hey I like that - we are different - thanks to Mama."
I miss Mama. Every day I think of something I want to tell her or ask her. I want to call her. I guess that feeling will always be there. But her number is disconnected.
Finding this memory about the small pox vaccinations adds another scrap to my memory quilt- reminding me how Mama looked out for us. And that feels good - connected.
What about your small pox scar? Are we right in thinking this is something Mama thought up -
do other people have it in different places?