Why I Stayed

I have been asked many times why I stayed on in Mississppi after my divorce. I usually answered “A combination of apathy and job satisfaction…” and left it at that.

But actually it was a lot more than that. It was the idea of family and stability that I wanted for my younger son. I grew up never knowing where I would be going to school next. One year, we moved three times. One time I sat and counted that in the twelve years I went to school before college, I had attended fifteen schools. The longest I ever stayed anywhere was three years and that was at the boarding school. I didn’t want my kid to have that experience.

When he was six and in the first grade, I divorced his father. But, although my ex-husband’s very large family denigrated me on every possible occasion, I have to give them credit for not casting out my son. {And, after the kid came home telling me one aunt had told him I was a bitch, I has a word with my ex and have to give him the credit that no one ever denigrated me in front of the kid again…I didn’t care what they said or did privately.} I never knew my grandparents and my child was very fond of his. Later when my mother-in-law and I were able to talk to each other away from all her kids, she told me that her biggest fear at the time of the divorce had been that I would go back to England and take her last grandchild with me and she would never see him again. I told her at that time that even if I HAD done that or chose to do that in the future, I would have made arrangements for him to spend time with her since they had a very close bond. She need never worry about that again. So, because of these reasons, and also because I enjoyed my job very much, {I taught reading and writing in a rural school}I decided to stay on in Mississippi.

In the South perhaps more than any other part of the States, family is very important. I used to enjoy hearing my mother-in-law saying things like, “Oh, she is a Barber girl. Her daddy was Roy Barber and her momma came from Tupelo. Her sister married…” That is how women were defined at that time {the late 60’s} and in the beginning, I really enjoyed being neatly fitted into my slot as the wife of Jim, the daughter-in-law of Penn and Melinda, the sister-in-law of Barbara Jean, Wanda Anne, Vonda Faye, Tressie Lee and Frances {the only one not to have the stereotypical double-barreled name of women in the South}. Later, I became defined as “Oh, you are {First Son’s} momma, right?” {Twenty-one years later I was NOT thrilled to be defined as {Second Son’s} momma, not to mention {Grandsons’} Mammaw…a word I HATE!}

My younger son grew up knowing his family {and when my ex married again when the boy was 8 he gained an additional family who also accepted him with enthusiasm}. In contrast, I have no idea where my father’s brothers and sisters are and my mother’s sisters are all dead. I know I have cousins of my generation but I don’t know where they are.

My son graduated from high school with three friends he had made in the first grade and he has his roots firmly in the community. My graduating glass was in another country and the school was a boarding school that specialized in taking girls from “broken homes”. We came from all over England.

Everyone knows whose son, brother,grandson and friend my younger son is. I am glad he has that.