Yarn Shop Tale # 7

                                        Doreen's Story
Winter mornings in the Pacific Northwest are made of monotony, cold, and gloom.  No matter how a body tries to prepare by taking their vitamins and getting their exercise, by the middle of January it settles deep down into your bones and you begin to think you will never thaw or see the sun again.

Doreen was in the recliner this morning next to the fireplace soaking in the heat as her knitting needles worked their way down row three of her project. Dale had commanded her there for the day.  At least he had requested that she stay home for the day and rest.  She had been going nonstop for two weeks, both babysitting her granddaughters and also hosting Donna and Jack on their return from the ski resort.

Donna and Jack and the girls were gone. They had left that morning long before dawn and Doreen was feeling the emptiness.  It was quiet with only the sound of  her knitting needles clacking together and the crackle of the fire. No shrieks of delight from the girls or adult conversation over a game of rook or skip bo.  It was an empty Doreen didn't like.  She felt unsettled and emotional.  She had prepared for conflict and tension with the visit of her daughter and family; instead, things had gone smoothly.

The week with Izzy and Beth was something Doreen would forever treasure in her heart.  They had spent the week baking cookies, taking walks in the nearby wooded lot, and had sledded the hill behind the house. The girls had also brought a stack of books they wanted Nanna to read at bedtimes, one being a Bible story book.  They had requested the Christmas story countless times.  Honestly, Nanna was a little tired of the story but had to admit she had a deeper appreciation for the old story than she had had previously.

It was partly what unsettled her equilibrium, Doreen supposed, to hear the story of Jesus from her granddaughters' perspective and seeing the drastic change that had come over Donna.  Doreen had gotten used to things being off kilter. She felt more comfortable when there was a bit of conflict and clutter to work through.  It meant things were working in a good balance in her way of thinking.  Not that she had enjoyed the strained relationship with Donna, but at least she had gotten used to it and had accepted that Donna would never fully appreciate her mother as a good and worthy one, that Donna would always try to change and reform her rough ways.

And now Donna had.  She had stopped reforming everybody.  She was at peace with the world and seemed happy.  For some reason this was unsettling to Doreen. It wasn't right, she knew, to be uneasy for someones happiness.  It only meant it was now her own issue to deal with.  It was now up to her to mend the fence, so to speak, and she wasn't sure how to do that.  Donna's attitude as peaceful and serene did more for convicting Doreen of her own roughness and failures, than all the years of nagging and the threats her daughter had previously made; that and the small rehearsed speech Donna and Jack had shared one evening after the girls were tucked into bed.

They had finished off a hand of rook and made a gallon of home made ice cream in the old, wooden, crank style ice cream maker, the one they had used throughout the years.  It had snowed all that day so they had used  fresh snow in place of the ice surrounding the bucket. While the men took turns hand cranking the ice cream on the porch outside the front door; Donna, Doreen, and the girls made hot toppings over the stove top.  Donna made her famous chocolate fudge syrup while Doreen stirred the caramel till it turned the golden, brown color of "doneness", all thick and bubbly.  Izzy and Beth had crunched up chocolate sandwich cookies in zippered baggies with the rolling pin. Doreen smiled now remembering how serious they were as they beat those little cookies to smithereens.  It had been a perfect evening Doreen thought.  And then after, Donna and Jack's short sweet speech had knocked the breath out of Doreen as she had listened.

"Mom, Dad," Donna began calmly, "I know I have been a hard to love daughter and I want to say, I am sorry,  I have been made aware of God's grace in my life and want to grow in that.  I love you and want to change who you know me as."  Jack broke in at this point.  "We know you aren't big into church and believers that go to church, but we've found a place to go that we feel is Biblical and have rededicated our lives to following Jesus.  We don't want to be pushy about it, just wanted you both to know what's going on in our family."

The kitchen had been a little quiet after that, but then Dale in his ever calming way said, "I'm happy for you kids, if you found something to help you get through stuff, we fully support you."  There had been hugs and more conversation that evening but they had said there "good night" soon  afterward and went to bed.

There was a world of hurt Doreen didn't want to explore in dealing with her relationship with her daughter.  There was also a whole lot Doreen had never told Donna, things about her past before Donna existed, things that shouldn't matter to anyone but somehow did.

When Dale had come into her life and rescued her all those years ago, they had agreed to leave the past behind and move on.  They had mutually scoffed at their peers, how they had wasted so much time getting counselling for their hurts.  Now, Doreen wondered if it would've been better.  Ignoring the past hadn't made the future any better.

Her story was simple really.  The same kinds of things happened to people all over the world, Doreen supposed.  At least she didn't think her story was that unusual when compared with other peoples story from their era.  And in Doreen's opinion, things today were a lot harder to accept than the things they'd gone through.  Even now, Doreen didn't feel hurt or bitterness about the things that had happened.  It was the way life went.  Everybody was given different circumstance, the people that crumbled under their load and felt sorry for themselves, were the ones that dragged everyone around them into their own mire; something she and Dale vowed never to do.  They believed in pulling yourself up by your own bootstrap.  They'd built their life together from the ground up with help from no one.  They were self sufficient.  That was why they'd never gone to one of those "shrinks" people were so fond of.  Doreen knew her mind was replaying the same thing over and over, the same safe logic.  It seemed she was arguing with herself about revisiting the past and facing the current circumstances.

She could still smell the sea air if she thought about it.  She could feel the rock of the fishing boat lolling her to sleep at night or the sea gulls squawking above as they hauled in the seine nets after each set.  Doreen loved the sea and life at sea.  Throughout the years, she had briefly mourned living so far inland, but like the rest of her past, she'd remember briefly, then shove it out of her mind.

Doreen  grew up on a small fishing boat on and off the shores of Ketchican, Alaska.  They would pull into a small rented boathouse a couple times a month to restock and unload the supply of salmon and halibut, and then, take two or three days catching up on laundry, paying bills, and cleaning the boat bottom to top, before heading out for another catch.

Doreen's mother had died when Doreen was only six.  On one of the trips out, several of the crew came down with a flu. Doreen's mother wasn't able to get to a doctor and had died of pneumonia after a few short days of high fever.  After the death, Doreen's father, also the skipper or "Captain" as they called him, had carried on bravely, stopping in Ketchican  long enough for the usual restock, to hire another woman to work in the galley, and also as a way to provide Doreen with an education.

Doreen's relationship with "Captain", as she called him, along with the rest of the crew, was barely existent.  Captain recovered from the death of his wife by working day and night the rest of his life.  He'd notice his daughter occasionally. It was usually, after a growth spurt and he'd have to buy her new clothes while home on restock or when Sue, "the maid", as Doreen jokingly called her, would need to update her school books and gather more home school curriculum.

  He'd noticed her again, as he was dying.  They didn't know why he had died, but Doreen suspected some kind of cancer.  He'd never stop long enough to get his illness checked out and one morning, at sea, he didn't wake up.  Doreen had grown into a young lady by that time.  She had her mother's fiery red hair and freckled skin and that was what her father had noticed as he grew sicker.  He watched her like a hawk, those last days he was alive, as she spoon fed her father soup and did other little things to make him feel more comfortable.

During the days of her fathers illness, the crew took over all responsibilities.  Dale Olsen, one man on the crew, who was especially loyal to Captain, also took over the managing of the fishing expeditions.  It was during this horrible time of trying to help her father get well and the transition of the crew, that one man in particular gave Doreen unwanted attention.  He was sneaky and creepy, Doreen remembered that.  She'd tried for all these years to wipe the memories from her mind.   He often leered at her when she helped serve the meals, and the way he slunk around, showing up when she thought she was alone on deck watching the stars or the sea, frightened her terribly. She'd learned to watch her back and be alert at all times, pure instinct she supposed, with the lack of education she had about such things.  "The maid", Sue had caught on rather quickly and made sure she was on duty at all times as Doreen's guardian.  But that hadn't been enough.

Why they all kept going after the death of Captain, Doreen didn't know.  If she had realized in her younger years that life was full of opportunities outside what she knew, she would've left the crew when they docked in Ketchikan after the death of her father.  Instead, she'd thought she was needed.  Now, old enough to take the place of Sue in the galley and having graduated from high school, she didn't see a future in anything else.  The sea was what she knew and loved.  Dale Olsen was managing things very well and they all still wanted their paycheck. Having things stay the same was a comfort to Doreen; that she was alone in the world wasn't a reality she thought much about.  The crew felt like her family and she felt she needed to stay and keep things functioning.

But things hadn't stayed the same and like Captain, Dale was so busy managing the fishing operation he hadn't notice the crew member that was lurking about Doreen all the time.  Doreen carried on with the cleaning and food preparations on board and with helping Dale with restock and orders.  She kept busy and kept quiet, meanwhile feeling she was dying a slow death of shame and repulsion.

Dale still blamed himself for the neglect Doreen suffered.  He'd often gotten furious watching Captain, while he was living, ignore his beautiful daughter and tried numerous ways to get him to slow down and take care of her better.  He'd vowed when he took over the run of the company that he would protect Doreen.  She seemed so independent and self sufficient though, that half the time he'd breathed a sigh of relief that she was taking care of things so well and didn't seem to need his assistance.

It was late afternoon, about two years into life at sea without Captain, that Dale was made aware of his own neglect.  He was in the galley gulping down a hot cup of coffee in between sets.  He was watching Doreen roll out bread dough, her arms moving up and down punching and rolling, punching and rolling when he saw the rounded stomach rise and fall with her movements.  In an instance, he felt his body zinging with a knowing and an anger which surprised himself.  Without thinking about his next move he was by Doreen's side.  "Who is it?"  He hissed in her face. "Who did this to you?"

Doreen didn't answer that day, but Dale was sure he had his answers by the time they'd docked in Ketchikan two days later.  That was the final trip they made in the fishing boat.  Dale somehow managed to sell the boat and the business within the week.  He'd convinced Doreen to walk to the courthouse one morning after they'd docked for the final time, and they'd had a small marriage ceremony performed by the judge.  They'd left for Seattle a week later and had never returned to Ketchikan.

Doreen wondered now, what Donna would say if she knew her real father wasn't Dale.  What good could possibly come from telling the truth after all these years?  She supposed it was only fair to Donna to know her history, to know why her hair was so dark instead of red or ordinary brown. Maybe it would help Donna understand better why Doreen valued the things she did and had the priorities that she had.  Now with Donna's newly found happiness, Doreen hesitated yet felt convinced that it was time to deal with the things of her past. When or how?  She still didn't know, but she did know that life had a way of taking care of those things on their own in their own good time.  Dale would know what to do. He always did.