Looking Back
In “Looking Back”, Layman weaves a collection of letters
into a broader composition about true love that is never fully realized.
I have
been visiting Asheville, North Carolina; and in particular the Biltmore Estate,
for nearly sixty years. There is something about this place that brings me to a
state of pure serenity. It also provides me with a level of comfort that I have
come to expect from myself, as I have been single now for forty-five years.
When I think about the Vanderbilt family, I feel like an honored guest as I
visit. This year seems incrementally important as I have come with a purpose.
It is in this place that I will write the longest letter of my life.
There
is a reason I have chosen this venue to begin my letter. In the time of the
patrons who remain in control via family continuation of this marvelous estate,
a letter was something you wrote. The written word was prized and well thought.
Ink to paper, it was a glorious occasion that you had the opportunity to place
pen to paper and compose the written word. It wasn’t merely a means to communicate,
but a passion to convey. I feel sure that Mrs. Vanderbilt took great pride and
was diligent, honest and careful with a pen in her hand. Likewise, I intend to
do my story justice in the best way that I know how…by carefully choosing my
words and thoughts as I place them on the page.
This
place seems to also be a place of inspiration, and to that end I hope to
inspire. Asheville to me has always seemed to be a culture of free-spirits. The
freedom of expression here is evident. I like to think that it is a small town
of artists…painters, musicians, poets and yes, writers. I believe that people
come here to write their story. As my life comes to a close, I want to at least
create a lasting memory for myself; and I believe that the process of writing
it will prove to be therapeutic in nature. As I enjoy the mountains and a glass
of Merlot, I hope you enjoy my story.
My 20’s
I
attended a small university in Tennessee. Vanderbilt University today is one of
the toughest schools in the South with respect to admission. At the time I
attended, the cohort of students was mostly women. Today, the make-up is much
the same as nearly half of the students admitted are women. Nashville may be a
town known mostly for country music, but it has much to offer. I have visited
on many occasions to walk the campus and reminisce about those days, as it was
a time of growth and development for me.
I was
never far from home growing up, as I felt a great deal of love from my parents.
High school is a time of great change in a women’s life as well, but not nearly
as much as your twenties. I believe your twenties to be a time of exploration.
To that end, I probably did not explore as much as most. Undoubtedly, I could
have spent more time doing extracurricular activities like most college
students do, but I still believe that I didn’t leave too many chips on the
table.
It is
hard to see you parents drive away for the first time and to really feel you
are alone in the world. I have a strong belief that everyone in America should
experience college, but sadly that is not an option for all. Our country has
seemed to place an emphasis on education, as we hear about the importance of it
every four years; but we have yet to find a way to get every American a higher
education. To a point, this saddens me greatly. As my parents drove away, I
could see tears in my mother’s eyes and a forced look of confidence on the face
of my father. I could almost hear their conversation word for word as they
drove away.
A quick
walk back to my dormitory room was the first order of business. For me the only
way I knew how to make myself feel at home was to make this new place my own.
The décor is simple; a chair, a bed, a reading lamp on the desk and the same
for a roommate. It was not long after I finished organizing that Rona appeared.
She was a beautiful Southern Belle from the state of Georgia and more
appropriately Savannah. Like many women from that state, she had a beautiful
light complexion, curly red hair and a smile as big as the waterway at nearby
Tybee Island. She couldn’t have been more proper except for her large Southern
drawl. We immediately connected on that day and I would call her a lifelong
friend. There is something uniquely disturbing about meeting your college
roommate for the first time. You wonder where they are from, what kind of
upbringing they had; will they be anything like me? For some, the divide is as
wide as the ocean, but for us the gap was as narrow as a stream.
Our
fathers were both engineers and our mothers were homemakers. To us we didn’t
know any other way. We were both raised in Christian homes. We celebrated the
same holidays, were fond of family gatherings, and each had only a brother. In
some way, the irony of our likeness molded us immediately in a way that one
could only hope to expect. It allowed me
a sense of security and comfort knowing that I would not be judged or
challenged for who I was. We stayed up all night that first night swapping
stories. Stories about boyfriends in high school left behind, who had been the
prom king and queen, where we had spent our Friday and Saturday nights, and
what we were going to attempt to do with our new found freedom.
We had
each arrived on a Saturday and had decided that we would go to church together
on Sunday morning. It had been a long night, but we made it to the dining hall
for breakfast prior to church. After church, we spent some time roaming the
campus to find where our classes were and other important locations such as the
library, student center, and the offices of our instructors. Rona was a great
conversationalist so the time seemed to escape us quickly and soon it was time
for bed. We spent a few final minutes talking as we brushed our teeth and we
resided to our beds.
Monday
morning came early and we made it to breakfast prior to our eight o’clock
biology class. The classes in your first semester of college are fairly
standard. Biology, Math, English, and Chemistry. I knew very quickly that I was
not going to major in science. I was however, undecided as to what I wanted to
do. It may be nice to have some direction prior to entering college, but I
decided that it would be a learning process for me. Math seemed to come easy to
me so I eventually decided to major in accounting. Rona was a Pre-Med student
and for many years knew that she was going to be a doctor. She had a passion
for helping people and had decided this was the best way she knew how to
contribute. Thankfully, she would become my laboratory partner in biology and
chemistry which proved to be a blessing in disguise for those four classes.
The
weeks were long in that first semester. Rona and I decided to make Saturdays
our day of relaxation and attended football games in lieu of studying. Sundays
were primarily church days with the exception of Monday exams.
That first Sunday night after a week of classes, I decided
to write home.
Mom,
It has been a long week, but I wanted to take a moment to
let you know that I am well. I have made a great friend in my roommate, Rona.
She is a beautiful Christian lady from Savannah, Georgia. We spent all night
last Saturday telling each other stories from our days in high school. It is
amazing and refreshing how much we are alike. Her father is also an engineer
and her mother a homemaker. They spend summers on nearby Tybee Island and she
says I must visit at some point this fall before the weather gets too cold for
boating. Yesterday we attended a football game and today we went to church
together. I really feel like God has placed her here with me. I hope and pray
that you and Dad are well.
Stephanie
I
started to understand what college life would be like but I longed for a break
about mid-October. With Thanksgiving just a month away, I would soon be home.
That particular month seemed long, but as I drove home to Roanoke, Virginia, on
a sunny fall day I was brimming with excitement. I knew that some great
Southern cooking awaited me for my return home. It is hard for me to say what
my favorite holiday would be. At this point, my favorite holiday was the next one
that would give me an opportunity to go home. As I opened the door to my
parent’s house, I could smell the aromas of a traditional American
Thanksgiving.
One of
my favorite past times is watching the Macy’s Day parade with my mother. There
are times when she has to step away to check on the turkey, but for the most part
this is the beginning of our Thanksgiving tradition. My mother had insisted
that I invite Rona to come home with me, and I did, but she was also anxious to
get back to Savannah to see her family as well. We were given from Wednesday
after classes until the following Tuesday morning as our break. This would
provide some time for shopping on Friday (and possibly Saturday) with my
mother.
I was
good to see everyone, especially my father. I have always been my mother’s best
friend and my daddy’s girl. Hugs and kisses are the first order of business
when returning home. After eating at college for nearly three months, the
turkey and other fixings’ were a Roman banquet. Afterward, I made some hot tea
and we sat around the wood fireplace in the living room. I told Mom and Dad
about the musings of college life and they recanted with what was going on at
home in Dad’s business and around the farm. Life is fairly simple here at home,
and I have always enjoyed that.
Friday
morning my mother and I are up at four o’clock and out the door by five. I have
always been a “shop girl” at heart and to this day I love a long day in and
around a mall. To me it is not only the gifts, but the time spent with whom I
am shopping. On Black Friday, it has always been my mother and me. It is not
uncommon for my mother and me to go shopping out of town. On many occasions we
have spent holidays in places like New York, Nashville, or Pigeon Forge. This
year we have decided to go to Harrisonburg, Virginia, for our adventure.
Shopping is a craft I would perfect over the years, and even in my twenties it
is no different. While Harrisonburg has plenty to offer on my first holiday
home, it is not quite the venue I had hoped for. Instead, I focus on the time
spent with my mother. Unlike myself, my mother has always leaned toward
frugality. It is probably the biggest reason that my family is well-to-do,
despite the fact that my father earns a better than average living.
As expected,
by 7 A.M. the shops are bustling with ladies scurrying around searching for the
perfect holiday gift. My mother prefers the big-box department stores so we
decide to peruse the wares for sale in these stores first. Later in the
afternoon, she has promised that we will venture to the outlets where I am
likely to find some more suitable items for myself and those who I will
purchase for this season. My list is short. I will look for a gift for my
brother, father, mother and Rona.
After
lunch we decided to go to Fink’s, a small regional jewelry store where I can
find a suitable watch for my brother. Since he is a pilot, I am searching for a
watch that has some unusual or unique features. I decide on the Omega
Spacemaster Z-33. It serves the purpose in both form and function. It has the capability of keeping the time and
date in two time zones and allows for the user to log up to ten flights. Check!
Rona will be easy to buy for as she is a fan of yoga. A quick trip to Lululemon
will allow me to find her a few necessary items. Check! Mom and Dad are going
to be a challenge this year and I decide to browse all day Friday and perhaps
make a purchasing decision on Saturday.
We
shopped till nearly 9 P.M. on Friday and decided to give our feet a break
before more shopping on Saturday. We ended our evening with a nice dinner at
Olive Garden. I chose the Seafood Portofino and Mom had Manicotti. We arrived
home at eleven.
On
Saturday we decided to stay close to home and shop here in Roanoke. I woke up early and decided to go down to the
kitchen to make myself a cup of tea and enjoy the quiet atmosphere of home.
There is an art glass window in the kitchen and as I look out over the farm, I
can see rolling hills and a plethora of apple trees. The deer in the fall are
those who mostly benefit from the apples, but I have been known on occasion to
pluck one for myself and just walk along the hills of the farm to enjoy the
fresh air. It allows me time to think. On this particular morning, I am
thinking about how short my Thanksgiving vacation will be.
Mom was
the second person to arrive to the kitchen and she always begins her day with a
cup of tea and her Bible. I’ve always admired her resolve to start her day by
reading God’s word. Today she decides on Psalm 103. The first five verses read
as follows:
“Praise the Lord, I tell myself; with my whole heart, I will
praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, I tell myself, and never forget the good
things he does for me. He forgives all my sins and heals my diseases. He ransoms
me from death and surrounds me with love and tender mercies. He fills my life
with good things. My youth is renewed like the eagles!”
These
are beautiful words and after just these five verses, she finds them to be
complete enough to spend some time in prayer. I bow my head in reverence with
her and close my eyes as she prays over our family and praises God for our
blessings.
We make
a formal plan for our shopping trip and after showering and dressing, we are
off to conquer another day. Today I will find a suitable gift for Mom and Dad.
In the past I have purchased gifts for them individually, but this year I
decide to buy something for them corporately. It seems harder every year to
purchase a gift for them; and being a college student, I do not have much to
spend. I have already surpassed my limit on a gift for my brother. What to do?
It has been a few years since we have had a family portrait. While not entirely
original, it will have to do. I do feel that Mom and Dad will be pleased as it
will provide them with a lasting memory.
Sunday
is a day of rest. My father is a fan of college sports more so than
professional so watching football is not something that we do on Sundays. Our
services start at 10:30 A.M. I grew up in the Baptist church and even though
Vanderbilt’s roots are Methodist, I am happy to attend a college founded under
religious values. The order of business from the pulpit is simple…to be
thankful for all of our blessings and to share these with family and friends. I
find myself trying to relax, but I all the while know that I must travel back
to Nashville in the morning. A nap seems appropriate to separate myself from my
thoughts. I have one last dinner at home before bed and a long drive in the
morning.
