It was the summer I turned seven years old when Mom got sick

Pains deep in her abdomen were sharp and intense

She took two Bufferin (aspirin) tablets and hoped it would pass

(We only went to the doctor in extreme situations)

After two days my father called our family doctor, Dr. Messmore

Back then doctors made house calls in extreme cases

and, to deliver babies or when the patient was too sick to go the office.

All of my siblings, except for the youngest, and I were born at home

Her bedroom was just off the kitchen and the living room

Mom was in her bed with its large wooden headboard and footboard

Beside the bed was a wooden dresser with six drawers and a large mirror

A large wooden chifforobe with double doors stood against the back wall

This is where my father hung his white dress shirts with no collar

Being a minister he wore a stiff white collar with a copper collar button

 to hold it in place. His black suit had a button-to-the top plain coat

(Very similar to what a priest might wear)

Off to the side sat a white porcelain coated chamber pot with a lid

Our only bathroom was upstairs // much too far to go in the middle of the night

Doctor Messmore, a tall sturdy man with a fedora, arrived with his black leather bag

After examining her, he told my father she had appendicitis and was very sick

She was running a high temperature, and he feared it was ruptured

A trip to the hospital was required to control the infection and remove it

David Honsaker, our local funeral director, was called to transport her

Back in those days our small town had no rescue squad or EMTs

so, the hearse served for funerals and as an ambulance when needed

His black Cadillac Hearse soon pulled up turning around in the driveway

parking along the road by our front steps

Two sets of steps lead up to the wide front porch of the house

A large white wooden swing hung from the ceiling on two chains

I sat on the stair steps watching through the banisters as mom was lifted

onto a gurney with large wobbly wheels and then wheeled through

the living room with its large wide armed couch and chair that

we got from my grandparents when they got a new set

Being only seven years old I did not know what to think as they

carefully carried her down the steps and loaded her into

the back of the hearse that had windows on each side that

read:  Honsaker’s Funeral Home – Masontown, Pa

The wide back door swung shut and the engine roared to life

The sharp peeked red brake lights on the 53 Cadillac blinked on as they

were ready to carry her to the Hospital in Uniontown, fifteen miles away

As my brothers, sister and I watched the hearse pull away

we all wondered what would happen to us without a mother

We hoped she would be alright, but she was deathly sick

The infection had spread all through her abdomen

Would she survive // only time would tell

*

Posting for Dora’s d’Verse Poets Pub prompt to write a story poem in the style of Elizabeth Bishop:  

“I’d like you to dip your word-brush into Bishop’s poetic inkpot, as it were, consciously incorporating accuracy (detail), spontaneity (immediacy), and mystery (revelation) to write your own original poem.”

This is a true event from my childhood that left an indelible memory in my brain. My mother survived the appendicitis and lived to be 93! An interesting side note: My father fell off a limb on the neighbor’s apple tree the next week and fractured three vertebrae! They both ended up in the hospital at the same time! He wore a brace for several weeks and healed up with no side effects!

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