The Inheritor

It’s been awhile since I’ve whined.

If I don’t keep reminding myself of all my afflictions,

I may forget them;

leave one out;

or fail to hurt at some crucial place or time.

Hereby, I give credit to my predecessors,

those who paved the trail;

those who left me an everlasting inheritance.

Mama with grandson Brooke.  Grand Canyon 1972

1.    From Mama I inherited a brain tumor.  I knew I would be the chosen one because it fell on DeRay and me to take her for most of her cobalt treatments for over 10 years.  My tumor, outside my ear canal, robbed me of hearing and balance, and an infernal whishing and pounding.  Fortunately, I do not have the headaches Mama suffered.  Working with Bob Doman over the years, I do know that you need to be all right- or left-dominant or your brain gets mixed signals.  I can’t be right ear dominant when I can’t hear out of that ear so my brain has to be plenty messed up.  I’m right handed, my right eye and foot are dominant.  And that’s my excuse for unadulterated craziness.

 

Jonathan and Lucy Elizabeth Carroll Heaton

Carroll Family.  Grandma Lucy Elizabeth center back.  Grandma inserted since her funeral was the gathering.

2.    From my Grandma Heaton, I was bequeathed a sturdy frame.  All of her sisters were petite.  Mama said it didn’t pass her mother by that she had big bones and was hefty while her sisters were fragile and dainty.  Probably, I also inherited my propensity for sugar diabetes from Grandma Heaton.

Margaret Webster Esplin

 3.    My Great Grandmother Esplin, Margaret Esplin, was deaf.  She didn’t eat meals with her family maybe because she couldn’t hear the conversation.  I play on my iPad while eating.

Daddy and Shirley with the sheep.

Daddy on Nig

 4.    Daddy loved the hills and solitude.  In a letter from the shepherd to Mama before they were married, he wrote:  “All my experience so far (or most of it) has been out in the hills.  I wouldn't even want to go to town if it wasn't for you.  I think more of a horse than I do of all the automobiles made.  What do you think you will do with a man like that?  Most everybody that knows me knows I like horses and the hills, but nobody knows how much I like them (unless it's Son).  I told you once before I should have lived fifty or a hundred years ago.  I think it would have been the most fun in the world to have lived where there were no towns or wire fences, just open country.  That's not just a dream either.  I've tried it enough to know what it's like. But, of course, I know that girls do not like things like that.  There is nothing in it for them.  Most girls like cities (the further I can get away from them--the cities--the better).  So I "ax" you again, what are you going to do with such a man?!!?  Sheep Herd July 29, 1927 (Cedar Mountain).

My happiest times are wandering the hills or hiking through the hollow and skipping Salad Socials and such.  That is, back when I could walk . . .

Uncle Lawrence, Aunt Lucy holding Brooke.  Blessing day Orderville. 1972

5.    My Aunt Lucy suffered from arthritis too.  She didn’t complain like I do but we must have inherited the propensity from a common ancestor.  Her daughters endured knee problems.  Part of my inheritance?

6.    From someone undiagnosed, I know I inherited Hashimoto’s Disease, the first autoimmune disease discovered.  A thyroid disease.  Thyroid cancer.  Point taken. 

What an inheritance!  Thank you, dear ones.  If you endured to the end, I can too.