ROLLING STONE | A 50 OVER 50 STORY

Part One

Gladys Johnson had never taken a risk in her whole life. She did all the things she was supposed to do when she was expected to do them.

Graduate high school...check.

Earn a degree (teacher or nurse)...check

Get married...check.

Have kids...check.

Make the best mac-n-cheese for the family reunion...check.

Don't forget to keep a perfect house in case of company, stay involved with every detail of the kids' lives, volunteer at church, stay as pretty as you can be, and always turn your heart away from temptation.

Looking back on her grocery list of a life made her want to scream in frustration once in a while. Mainly because not one person from birth to present had ever asked Gladys what she wanted to do.

She wanted to be an investigative reporter and travel the world but settled for teaching civics at the local middle school.

Never one to like kids much, she hadn't given much thought to having some of her own. She was relieved to love her twins as much as she did when they were born.

Marriage hadn't been too bad all things considered. Bobby was a kind man who couldn't have been more her opposite if Gladys filled out a form and asked for everything reversed.

Poor thing despised travel. She was certain he'd saved every penny he ever earned and never wanted to part with so much as a nickel.

He took care of their daily life.

Gladys handled their quality of life.

She retired from teaching with a full pension. Her husband died a year later when his heart gave out during the men's weekly Bible study.

Her kids scattered to the winds the moment they got their college degrees. They came back for their dad's funeral.

Things had not gone well from the moment they stepped through her front door.

"You don't need this big old house, Mama. You should sell it and get a little condo."

"You don't need Daddy's sedan, Mama. I'll take it off your hands."

"Did Daddy specify how much we were gonna get?"

"Where's Daddy's cufflinks, Mama? You know...the diamond ones?"

Gladys watched her children walk through her house with their spouses, appraising her things as if she was dead, too.

Acting like they had the goddamn right to a single splinter of what she and Bobby built over their marriage of forty-two years.

Like hyenas circling a wounded gazelle.

Her son and daughter were loved every single day of their lives. They were raised with privilege many of their own friends weren't lucky enough to have. They were given respect as individuals and the same was expected in return.

They had everything they needed and most of what they wanted. Upon high school graduation, they received a gently used car. They didn't owe a dime in student loans because Gladys and Bobby made higher education a priority from their birth.

Now they acted like auctioneers in her home mere days after losing her husband - their father - when she hadn't seen either of them in more than two years.

Gladys tried calling them every week and always got voicemail. They called her two or three times a year. Inevitably, it was when they needed help or money.

Then to walk up in her house and act like she was going to give them everything...it would not stand.

Rage at their audacity bubbled up inside her.

The thing her kids forgot, the thing they should have remembered, was that Bobby had always been the softy in their home.

Gladys would never be a wounded gazelle.

In the no-nonsense voice she'd used for forty years to quiet auditoriums of teenagers hopped up on hormones, she boomed, "Sit your behinds on the couch!"

"Now, Mama..."

"We know you're distraught, Mama..."

"Lorraine, I told you to sit your behinds down. If you can't or won't do that, there's a hotel just up the road that has vacancies."

Stunned to silence, her daughter lowered to the loveseat. Her husband of a year took his place beside her with an expression of confusion.

Gladys understood. After all, they'd never met.

Her son tried to take her arm. "Just calm down, Mama."

"Boy, if you don't take your hand off me, I'm going to give you a smack. I am your mother. I'm not feeble. I'm grieving - not mindless. Sit your behind down or walk out the door. Your choice, Leland."

He opened his mouth to argue and thought better of it. He walked to the sofa and tugged his wife down beside him.

Gladys and her daughter-in-law weren't close. Since she and Bobby refused to pay for a destination wedding for fifty in Greece, the woman had barely been civil. Six years later and Carole was still nursing a grudge.

Once they were seated, Gladys folded her hands in front of her. "There are three things you should take from the following statement. Do not confuse it for a conversation. One, you and your spouses can choose to respect reality such as it is or leave."

Carole tried to stand and Leland held her to his side.

"Two, you are not owed some sort of death payment. Your father and I were married over forty years. We worked hard to give you good lives and never begrudged the cost. I cared for him as his health declined the last year of his life - when you both acted as if we didn't exist. You are here to pay your respects...not get paid."

Lorraine started to speak and Gladys lifted her hand.

"I'm not done. Three, nothing in this house belongs to you other than the keepsakes we've stored from your childhood. When I'm dead, you can fight over what's left. My hand to God - if you act like property appraisers one more time, if a single item goes missing, I will throw you out and not leave you a cent."

Turning to go, she paused, "Your bedrooms are made up and ready for you. There are fresh towels in the linen closet. You'll have to see to your own dinner but there are several casseroles in the fridge. I'll be eating with the ladies from church to finalize your father's memorial."

With that, she picked up her purse and car keys and walked out the door. 

© Shayne McClendon