The Essence of Who She Was

            From deep within her there was a sense of urgency. No, more of a sense of importance. She knew from that deep place that this moment, this moment about to present it self was her chance for a change, a chance to move beyond the limitations she’d left behind. A chance to express who she was without the restriction of anyone—particularly her father.

            Jolene was the ideal daughter, lovely to behold, smart as a whip, as her dad would say, strong willed with a gentleness that masked that strength. She had moved through her education in the rural school houses of a small west Texas town, gone on to University of Texas and along the way learned to ride and rope and be the Tom boy that her dad admired.

            But along the way she had moved out of his mold, stretched beyond the limits of his mental confinement, found her own way through the maize of West Texas expectations of who a women of her status should be. Part of that came from a couple of fully emancipated female teachers at UT who were on the fringe of the feminist movement. But along with that envelope pushing influence came the parallel exposure to Texas gentile, nearly southern bell, grace and composure. And, the nearly clandestine removal of the cloak of southern Baptist and replacement with the robe of the mystical.

            Jolene had married Darrin a year out of UT, raised their two boys to college age and in kind of a slow burn, realized her committed union with Darrin was on its last legs. The social rules of their near yuppie life was dimming her light. She had an urge burning within that could not be quenched. She sensed a grander vision. Something she must do on her own. It wasn’t that Darrin had faults. If anything he was too perfect. Good provider, good husband, good appearance, good to those around him. But at the emotional and spiritual level there was a gap. She needed more and just felt it couldn’t happen coupled with dear sweet Darrin. Midst this conflicting heart ache, she had left that relationship behind and moved out to explore the unknown.

            It took her through many dimensions: A job with the non-profit, Big Brother Big Sister as a case worker, a couple art classes that lead her to acrylics and pastels and big canvasses, a guitar from a friend along with some basic lessons that helped her find her voice. And the books, the metaphysical books that lead to many teachers who shared those views and their devotees.

            Through all of this, particularly because of her departure from Darrin, she had lost connection with her dad, Papa as she called him. Jolene’s mother had passed on during her transition and Papa had pulled in, not sure of his purpose in life, but feeling rejected by Jolene’s rejection of what he saw as his base, his philosophy of life, his politics, his religion. Their communication waned. There was a phone call on Saturday morning, mostly filled with discussion on how his grand kids were doing and details like her car needing something or other and who to take it too. She’d visit for a few hours every few months, but it was usually strained.

            During this time Jolene was developing on many levels. She’d acquired some entrepreneurial expertise, had picked up some public speaking and facilitative experiences and acquired knowledge in the area of business relationships, particularly partnering. Partnering is the process of bringing prospective business partners together in facilitated meetings to discuss how they would work together, details of the finances, who would bring how much, how they would split profits, who they would hire, product development etc. Her business grew. She was good at it and in the broader Texas landscape she found her niche. She knew the ways of Texas business, mostly on the heels of the old boy system but now beginning to include smart and aggressive women whose daddies had taught them the ropes.

            On this breezy Friday morning, Jolene was preparing for a partnering facilitative promotion presentation. The forum was a combined meeting of the Chamber of Commerce and Rotary in the next town over from where she grew up—a town that because of oil had reached the status of small city. She was here to present her services, her approach to creating successful business partnerships and even corporations. She had invited Papa, now in is late 70’s, to come, wanting him to see her, to know this part of her, to perhaps come a little closer to accepting who she now was.

            As she dressed for the presentation, more than anyone, she held Papa in her mind. Wanting so much for him to see her as she now was. She chose navy blue, crisp but feminine, flashy but modest jewelry and heels that pushed her limits of comfort a bit. Her hair was soft and wavy like her moms. Her skinned glowed from the modest amount of sun she allowed herself.

            When she walked on stage she immediately saw Papa in the third row, wearing his every present cowboy hat, mustache neatly trimmed. She stopped mid stage and stood for a moment in front of him knowing that every article on her body, every fiber in her being expressing the essence of who she now was. Papa’s eyes widened into a small grin.

            It warmed her and throughout the presentation she was on, pointed, expressive, enthusiastic, stern and competent. She purposely didn’t look at Papa during the presentation, but definitely felt his energy. She wound down and wound up. There was applause, there were some whistles, but most of all, Papa rose to his feet with a grin. He was proud of her. She could tell. Her smile came.

            As she walked of stage, Papa moved toward the stage stairs, caught her in his arms at the bottom. Let’s go have some lunch he said. I’ve got a lot of things to unburden myself of.