friskin

My mother is a part of this woman's group... P.E.O. What they do (and what the initials stand for, for that matter) is a mystery to me. I just remember when I was little they'd come over and have meetings sometimes and Rachael and I would have to stay downstairs and watch television and not get in the way. They were here again this morning. Everything came rushing back to me when I heard their squawky, chattering voices and smelled the intense perfumes that blended together and wafted into my bedroom. They all spoke at once for a long time.. I caught bits of conversation. Someone was talking about bananas going extinct in the next ten years. I didn't dare leave my bedroom, even though I was starving and wanted very badly to take a shower. They commenced their meeting with a song and a chant, promising to uphold the virtues of love, education, sisterhood, etc. I must have been so terrified as a little girl of all these old women (the majority of them are over 65, and I'm sure that used to be the case as well) invading my home, all speaking extra loud just to be heard above everyone else's talking and hearing deficiency. I also have a vague recollection of being humiliated by them (or one of them) at some point, which is probably why I hid from them for so long..

I can see how this memory feeds my inhibitions nowadays.