Gods eternal steal the trees where Wood Pewee
meekly - sighing - hints a - steadfast - quest;
and steal Wood Pewee too.
But naked universe will wear his
meekly - sighing - song.
A GLIMPSE INTO THE HEART OF
DOROTHY ANN CHRISTIAN KEARNS
THROUGH THE EYES OF GORDON KEARNS
Dorothy Ann Christian Kearns had brown eyes. As a grown-up she was five feet, three inches tall. She was raised by her aunt and uncle, Mamie and Forrest Thurman. She was baby sister to Clothilda (Honey), William (Bill), and Charles (Chuck) Christian. She married me on August 18, 1951. She lived for varying periods in Leslie, Missouri, Bend, Oregon, and in the St. Louis area on Spring, Virginia, Meramec, Tholozan, Wilmington, and Overton and probably a couple other places I just don't remember.
All her friends who knew her for her own self called her "Chris."
Some of Dorothy's best times were:
Sitting under a big umbrella on an ocean beach on Cape Cod - and gathering rocks to take home as reminders - and for future projects.
Riding her very own bike - her very own GIRLS' bike - her very own GIRLS' BLUE bike in Tower Grove Park, especially when she could fly down that neat hill near the tennis courts.
Swimming every Wednesday at the Y. She always used her graceful Esther Williams stroke. It wasn't how fast she could go in the water that counted; the pleasure was all in her form.
The year she lived in Bend, Oregon and attended Bend High School.
Seeing Gone With The Wind every time it was revived.
Sitting in the first row at the Fox for Zorba The Greek, and catching the carnation Anthony Quinn threw right to her.
Walking with her niece Dolores at the farm in Warrenton, and in later years adventuring with Dolores to craft shows.
The Friday afternoon drives she, my brother Rich, and I used to take around interesting places in Missouri and Illinois - and stopping at Tippins afterwards.
Anytime she went to Red Lobster.
On our honeymoon, gorging herself at an all-the-shrimp-you-can-eat restaurant on a Gulf pier in Biloxi.
Sitting on the front porch working on craft projects and talking with the mailman and friendly neighbors who walked by.
Working on craft projects: building displays for the stone wall in our back yard; painting flower pots; making seasonal decorations; decorating T-shirts and sweatshirts; and stamping, stenciling,, painting, and gluing (she was an expert on the right glue to use for the right project). She did some of her best work long after blindness zapped her, utilizing whatever dim vision remained, a good sense of feel, sound artistic judgment, my inept guidance when absolutely required, and a couple powerful magnifying glasses. She refused to allow rapidly escalating handicaps to keep her from doing what she darn well wanted to do.
Making clever handouts for Halloween trick-or-treaters.
Our vacation stay at Daytona Beach, where she rode rented mo-peds like a drag racer down Daytona's hard-packed sand.
Our vacation adventures to Cape Cod; Florida; Cape Hatteras (where she stayed awake all night to watch the original telecast of Neil Armstrong's walk on the moon - and where she had a really fun time watching burrowing sand-crabs throw sand in one-another's faces); Myrtle Beach (where we had to convince the motel guy we were really married); Mt. Rushmore; Yellowstone Park (where we survived an earthquake we thought was a bear shaking the cabin); The Grand Canyon; Las Vegas (where she always won on the slots, and I always lost); and Silver Dollar City.
The trip she took to New Orleans with her friends.
Watching any parade.
The Christmas Children's masses at St. George, and Friday Lenten services at Resurrection.
Boat trips up and down the Missisippi, and boat rides downtown, in Hannibal, at Lake of the Ozarks and Lake Taneycomo; and the "duck" rides at Table Rock Lake and the Dells.
The time we jitterbugged in front of God and everybody at a swing band concert in Concord Park. The Nutcracker Ballet put on by the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra.
Whenever she was complimented on the designs of an especially beloved sweater, sweatshirt, or T-shirt.
Her last trip to Eckert's apple festival in Millstadt last Sunday. She was weighed down by failing kidneys and tortuous edema, and she couldn't get out of the car to chance the rough terrain, but she loved being among people again and eating forbidden brats and funnel-cakes.
Dorothy loved cheesecake, clam chowder, shrimp fixed any way, Ted Drewes, Big Mac's, bratwurst, funnel-cakes, popcorn, and key-lime pie; having a great tan; dressing up for Christmas dinner with Rich at the MAC; All My Children, One Life to Live, Guiding Light, and The Young and the Restless; her dachshunds Willi and Gus - and goading Gus to sing, in his own inimitable way "The Shadow of your Smile"; bowling - she had her own pretty ball, bag, and shoes; ice shows at the Arena; volleyball and ping-pong as a teenager, and later consistently beating me at ping-pong on our own table in the basement; her old buddies from St. Boniface and Resurrection grade schools and St. John's High School; her dear Aunt Mame and Uncle Forrest; craft shows; shopping in malls and home-building outlets (she enjoyed hardware stores much more than I did); shopping anyplace; gossip tabloids; reading Soap Opera Weekly - and after her eyes went bad, having me read it to her; interesting biographies of celebrities; concerts in the park; being called Chris by her friends; talking on the phone with her friends - especially in her last rough months; electric trains (we have a three-tiered set-up in our living room); craft, how-to, and cooking shows on TV; and to laugh - Dorothy's laugh was loud, brash, uninhibited, and unique - she was always easily recognized from a distance by her laugh.
Dorothy loved pretty things: knickknacks from Hallmark stores; Christmas ornaments; sweaters and sweatshirts; metal wall decorations; pictures; quilts; magazine covers; shoes; and probably most of all: flowers. One year she had a hundred hanging pots in our back and front yards.
And above and beyond everything else, Dorothy loved being loved.
Dorothy had no patience with detailed instructions for VCR's, tape recorders, and TV remotes - or for people who wouldn't listen to her.
She hated going blind and having to eat with her hands and arthritis in her knees and fingers and leg edema that limited movement.
She disliked violent or super-sad movies or television shows and parents hitting children and doctors' offices and hospitals and being alone when I worked late
And snow, except for the wintry-snowy year we bought a sled and went down Art Hill over and over.
Naked Universe will wear her meekly sighing song.
Comments? E-mail GKEARNS@prodigy.net
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