First Grandchild, part two

Vivian had just given birth to the first grandchild in both her and her husband’s families. Both Vivian and Ed were the older of two children. Vivian was three years older than her brother Dale, who, although he was 23 years old, he was not even dating a particular girl. Ed’s sister Doris was still in high school. Consequently, the birth of Donald was a big event in the family, and everyone doted on him and Vivian, who was exhausted from the pregnancy, the labor and the delivery.

It was a strenuous experience for Vivian, whose petite frame had gained nearly 50 pounds during her pregnancy. She had a lengthy period of morning sickness, nearly six months. On occasion, her bladder would release before she realized it. The leakage was always minimal, but the expectation that it could happen at any time made her less willing to leave the house because of the potential embarrassment. She also experienced gingivitis and hemorrhoids. In the last month, she developed toxemia, which resulted in such swelling and tenderness in her legs and ankles that she had difficulty standing.

In her last six weeks, beginning in December, Vivian spent most of her time sitting in an easy chair, sipping beer to help her body relax and doing needlework. While her swollen fingers made the precise stitching that she liked difficult, she was skilled enough to manage. She had made several gowns for the baby. When she could not complete the final, most delicate details, Leta finished them for her. Vivian was in labor for nearly twenty hours, and Donald Edward was born on January 17, 1939.

Vivian and her healthy baby boy arrived home from the hospital five days later. It was a cold afternoon, and Ed only worked half the day before picking them up. Ed knew that Vivian was tired, and he asked his parents and Vivian’s parents to give them a day or two before stopping in. All of them had already made many trips to the hospital to visit. Vivian was very sore and swollen. Ed made sure that the walk was clear of snow and ice, so she would not slip, and then he escorted her up the walk to make sure she remained steady. She, naturally, was holding the well-bundled baby in her arms.

The minute she walked in the door of her own house, Vivian’s energy left her, and she immediately sat down in her new rocking chair—a gift from an unidentified relative or friend.

“Oh, Ed,” she said after he brought the rest of their things in from the car, “we really need to find out where this rocking chair came from. I hate not knowing, and I want to be sure that there wasn’t some mistake.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I agree.”

Life, however, postponed their intentions. A new baby, Ed’s work and Vivian’s recovery all took time. Vivian’s focus was on the baby, and the housekeeping chores continued to fall on her mother Leta and Ed’s sister Doris. Two days a week for the first three months, Leta’s husband Bob brought her to Vivian’s on his way to work. She spent the day cleaning, doing laundry, cooking, holding the baby and allowing Vivian to rest.

These were precious times to Leta. Although she had spent time with her daughter over the past several years, the wounds from abandoning her daughter and her inconstancy during many years of her daughter’s life were still apparent. While she was a caring and forgiving woman, Vivian had remained quiet and aloof, protecting herself from further hurt and disappointment. But, she realized, she needed help, and turned to her mother. On Sunday, they went to church together, and Leta had her daughter’s family to her house for Sunday dinner. Ed was quiet, but grateful. If he still bore any dislike toward her, he stopped expressing it. Besides, Ed and Bob were wonderful friends.

Leta’s visits went on for three months until Vivian was able to manage all of her household responsibilities. Don was mostly sleeping through the night, and Vivian began to look and feel better. She had gradually resumed all of her household responsibilities. While Leta was disappointed that she was no longer needed to spend every day with her daughter and felt some uncertainty about old feelings returning, she still remained close, spoke to Vivian daily on the telephone, and visited one evening per week.

Donald was baptized just before Easter. Ed’s sister and Vivian’s brother were the godparents. Ed’s parents hosted a family luncheon afterward, and for the first time in several years, Vivian’s uncle Walter, her father’s younger brother, came with his family. Although they still lived in Ohio, Walter and his wife were far enough away that they only visited on occasion. This was their first time seeing the baby. During the course of the afternoon, while he was catching up with Ed, Walter asked about a special gift.

“How is that rocking chair working out, Ed?” he inquired.

Ed slapped himself on the forehead.

“You sent the rocking chair?” Ed asked loudly.

“You didn’t know?” Walter said.

“We asked everyone, and no one knew.”

“It didn’t have a gift card?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, no wonder, Vivian never thanked us!” Walter gasped with some relief. “We both thought that was unlike her, but then we also knew that babies were a lot of work and things get away from a person.”

“Well, let me thank you now,” Ed said, offering his hand, which Walter took.

“You’re very welcome,” Walter said, and without letting go of Ed’s hand, he pulled the younger man into the living room, calling for his wife.

A short time later, Leta found herself alone with Walter. For many years, the two had avoided each other. What could they possibly talk about? Leta had devastated and divorced Walter’s brother Ralph. When she abandoned her children several years after that, the disrespect intensified. But on this day, everyone was in a generous and forgiving temperament.

“Thank you for the rocking chair, Walter,” Leta said.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “We got one for Margery when our first child was born. She used to sit and rock the baby for hours. It was a great help.”

“It’s a wonderful gift. Vivian loves it. And so does Don.”

“I’m glad.”

There was a long pause. Then Walter spoke once gain:

“That’s some girl you got there, Leta, and a great little grandson.”

“I know,” she agreed.