My daughter and son surprised, I should say shocked me yesterday, revealing the name and photo of my actual birth father — and the name of my birth mother. This information was unknown to me for 74 years. In fact, I was unaware my kids were genealogy mining. I was stunned to look at the picture my son showed me of a man, heretofore unknown to me, and quite clearly and eerily see “myself” — and the unmistakable faces of my son and daughter. Joseph Lawrence Perrmann and Evelyn Tieke — my birth father and mother. I was utterly floored. Using De’s prompt, I’ve created an imagined romantic scenario of that day they met, and I was conceived as a post WWII bastard — later to be placed in a “sealed” adoption.
and as beautiful as a summer day
what a most unususl place
to find such beauty
he muses to himself
as he paints her fondly
with his admiring eyes
“come here often miss”
he rolls off his lips
with a slow sly smile
“only when my laundry’s dirty”
she smiles back
with a perky snap
“what brought you in mister”
she banters jokingly
“like you, dirty laundry”
he emphasizes dirty
“you got a big load there”
she observes coyly
with a lingered downward glance
“you got a nice full basket too”
drawing ‘nice’ to a sly sssizzle
“what’s your name”
he asks, seductively
“Evelyn, what’s yours”
she flirts back
“Joe, but friends call me JL
you can just call me
whatever feels good to you, Evelyn”
he offers with an inviting smile
“can I call you Eve”
“sure, Eve is nice
what’s the L for, Joe”
“Lawrence — Joseph Lawrence Perrmann
purr, you know — like a cat”
“I’m Eve, Eve Tieke
you know, like the wood”
she says
“wa d’ya do JL,
rather, Joe”
she teasingly purrs
“I’m now a cop,
was Navy shore patrol,
I’m just back from war”
“where’s your gun officer”
she coaxs
“I keep it holstered
until I need t’use it”
he warns mockingly
“is it a big gun, Joe”
feigning wonder
“it’ll do the job Eve
you like guns”
“not usually
but I bet yours is nice”
she says breathily
they continued chatting
and flirting
while they laundered
growing more interested
and mutually attracted
just then
buzzzzz
“well, laundry’s dry Eve
wanna help each other fold”
she looks around
“these tables are awfully small”
she replies encouragingly
“I live just around the block Joe
and I have the perfect table”
“great Eve, let’s go there
and fold together
— how does that sound”
he asks suggestively
“purr-fect, Joe
I would love to fold with you”
she says directly into his eyes
“OK,
then let’s go
show me the way Eve”
they pause
their imaginations fully engaged
smiling deeply into each others eyes
“OK” Eve says warmly
body language relaxed
eyes willing
then JL turns
grabs both baskets
full of their warm laundry
and out the door they go
together
and into my history
Poetry at: dVerse
Smiling at all the innuendo here, Rob. What an amazing thing, to learn part of your origin story, and to be able to imagine the rest.
Shocked the shavings outta me De. I lived in the same city with both of them for 15 years. My mother lived until I was 33. We may have passed in the night and never knew it? I’m not sure what to do with the info, but it is fascinating to me. Some sisters and a brother still live. My daughter wants to get in touch with them. I don’t need to.
What a great story of seductive laundry encounters. You have a great imagination. Your flirting scenarios are great!
Thank you Dwight. I may have missed my window to be a dime-novelist… 😉
What an astounding surprise for you, Rob. I like how you are weaving a reality for your parents and how you were conceived. Wouldn’t you be shocked if it happened just that way?
What’s the word — FLABBERGASTED! May not have happened exactly like this Lisa — but it happened, so I am going to own the right to speculate, until the concrete particulars surface, should they ever.
Wow, you must have some complicated thoughts and feelings right now. This is a cheeky poem, full of life. I suspect a lot more will bubble up.
Right now I am a bit numb, and also confused Sarah — but I welcome the unfolding experience.
I bet that was a shock to the system, Rob, but such a wonderful thing your children did for you, especially finding a photo of your father, and recognising yourself and your children in it! Your birth parents now have names and I love the way you explored your new knowledge in your laundry poem, especially the cut and thrust of their banter.
Thank you Kim. It feels surreal and likely will for sometime, as my kids continue to mine our genealogy.
Wow – great fictional take on how your parents met. I’m glad this mystery was solved for you. Like your kids, I too am deep into genealogy – practically my full time job when I’m not dashing off a poem.
Thank you Ron. The light of inquiry and discovery is now lit.
What a fascinating story Rob, and I am sure it was a shock to you. Love the story you’ve created.
It was, and thank you Linda.
Wow – kind of cool that we can discover these things – we think we know ourselves. Never thought of folding laundry as a metaphor… haha!
It shocked me Ren, that my daughter and son were able to uncover this, after 74 years. I was having fun here creating a “light” scenario around what, for many years as a child, was a “heavy” source of confusion, sadness, frustration, feelings of worthlessness, anger, and a number of other emotional disturbances. Because of an additional rough time in my adoptive home, I spent years habitually making up lies and fabricated stories, to cover my shame and embarrassment over being, what I personally interpreted, as an unwanted bastard child. My self-esteem was damaged. It was only my years in college, and moving out to enable performing with my numerous bands, that I began to heal mentally and emotionally from those destructive abandonment issues, and the subsequent early abusive environment in my childhood home. I have now learned to cope with the years of damage, but early scarring runs deep, even from the self-inflicted wounds…
Wow, Rob – my mind is blown that you could take on board this information and immediately turn it into such an imaginative and skilfully-crafted poem! I hope this gives you some sense of ‘closure’ if this is the correct word? Probably not. I hope it gives you some peace.
It feels unreal or like fiction after 74 years. So my mind kept wondering, what happened, why was I given away? So instead of being morose or angry, I just imagined how a guy, not long back from WWII, might meet and have an affair with a women 13 years younger than he. These were still a few years mixed with joy for peace, sadness from war, and still overshadowed by religious shame and social conservatism. A scenario similar to this could have happen, and “illegitimate” babies from such situations in those were not celebrated — usually shuffled quietly away. Numerous post WWII orphanages around the USA, in those times were referred to as baby factories (overcrowding, neglect, spotty medical care, bad records, etc.). The Catholic orphanage I was adopted from was eventually shut down under a cloud of scandal. More than a decade of their records from the period immediately following the WWII were mysteriously “lost” — including mine, as it was explained to me?
Imaginative sexting in the laundromat!! Further genealogical searching can reveal so much about our roots. At least now you have a family tree to climb!! Who knows…you may be descended from Charlemagne!
I’d probably fall out Bev… 🙂 …and I’m more likely descended from Charlie Chaplin than Charlemagne… 😉
Wow, Rob. After all this time, I can’t even imagine.
And what a clever way to deal with it – these words.
I was shocked as hell Ken — but it was also cool my kids did it… 🙂
Oh, this is was a fascinating story you built… I hope you reach out to your brothers and sisters, that would be amazing.
I don’t want them to feel put upon, or like I have some agenda or ulterior motive.. Don’t wannabe an intruder. That said, it would be interesting.
This is brilliantly rendered, Rob 🙂 I too am smiling at all the innuendo here.
Thank you Sanaa… 😉
An interesting read Rob. This was a creative way to tell your history. Have a good week.
Thank you Grace.