Both of my parents were perfectionists. It was a bit difficult for them to accept
the fact that they had given birth to a free spirit who did not feel harnessed by
that perfectionistic behavior. Perhaps I rebelled against it because I
understood the tension it created, or perhaps I was just wired differently.
I am not sure.
My Daddy was less concerned by the perfect than my Mama. She had to
make sure that everything she started must be finished without mistake.
I never understood her attitude completely until she told me that her
own father once criticized her for using an eraser to alter a word on
her homework. He asked, "Why must you use an eraser? Why don't
you think carefully before you print out your homework assignment?"
She told me she never forgot those words, and from that moment on
she was very careful. It's my belief now that she carried that sense of
caution throughout her life.
She never realized our fully embraced her talents, of which there were
many. She always had beautiful flower gardens. She always decorated
our home to perfection. She was an excellent baker and she could
decorate a cake as well as any professional. She sewed many darling
dresses for my dolls, and her Christmas wrappings were always so
original and beautiful that we hardly wanted to open our gifts.
One of her pursuits was taking a china painting class. This was
her first creation. I didn't see it for the longest time because
she didn't think it was very good. She compared herself to others
in the class and envied their talent. In my mind, it is a beautiful
plate and it shows to me that she indeed had the soul of an artist.
It's charming in it's simplicity and conveys a sense of joy to
the eye. I only wish that she recognized this talent she possessed,
and that she would have enjoyed it more fully.
Big Texas Hugs,
Susan and Oliver
