Today would have been my parents’ wedding anniversary. Much of what I am comes from them; their genes and upbringing shaped me for better or worse. I was as amazed as my new husband when my mother’s derogatory words spewed out of my mouth during our first disagreement.
I’ve also adopted some of the ways of people I’ve esteemed during my lifetime. Recently, our family gathered at a restaurant to celebrate a birthday. While I spooned soup into my mouth, I rested my right elbow on the table. Suddenly, in my head, I heard Mr. Potter’s soft voice, “Lolita, we don’t put our elbows on the table.” I quickly moved my arm. His daughter, Karen, was my best friend when I attended country school. I ate many meals at their house and adored her parents.
Most people wear their wristwatch on their left arm but mine is opposite. I was in fifth grade when my cousin, Doris, gave me her old timepiece because her boyfriend gave her a new one for Christmas. When she said, “Hold our your arm,” I automatically gave her my right and she looped the band around my wrist. I’ve never changed because Doris put it there.
I admired my junior-high teacher, Miss Tunison. I altered my handwriting to incorporate her quirk of dropping the line within a word.
I continue to absorb things I see or hear. Recently, I saw an ad featuring an older model who wore a hairstyle similar to mine but hers looked better. I took a copy of the magazine photo to my stylist the next time I needed a cut and she used the picture to alter my ‘do.
My persona is like a collage, a creative work that was popular a few years ago when people were gluing various materials together to form a work of art.
Who can you identify as being a part of the collage that you call myself?