... where family is the source of humor!

And the Thump-Psssh Goes On by Rudy Wilson Galdonik

Rudy shares, for Humor Is Relative's readers enjoyment, an excerpt from her new book "Take Heart!". Her parents try to find an activity to help keep her, as a child, occupied. Problem wasn't in keeping the child occupied as much as that the activity couldn't be strenuous due to Rudy being born with a heart defect. Add in car rides, a piano and a flute, pair of roller skates, swimming lessons, and a sibling to have - well, humor [plus one occupied child] as the end result of her parents' efforts!

One of my favorite childhood memories involves one of my parents suggesting, "Hey, anybody want to go for a drive?" At a time when gasoline hovered at a steady 30 cents a gallon, this was the perfect pastime for a family that didn't have any money but did have one kid who was a heart patient. Cheap and sedentary, this activity was far better than mountain climbing, yacht racing or other more expensive and physically challenging options.

The discovery was made during my kindergarten exam. A doctor placed a stethoscope to my chest, and instead of the normal thump-thump, thump-thump sound, he heard thump-psssh, thump-psssh. I had been born with a hole in my heart. So what do you do with a kid who has a hole in her heart during an era when open-heart surgery is in its infancy? You devise all means of creative, sedentary activities to give the appearance that she is living a full, active life. And if you're lucky, she'll be dumb enough to think so, too. My parents were very lucky people.

It was decided that I could bide my time with music. A variety of potential instruments was considered. The tuba or a set of drums was out of the question as they would be too heavy for the tiny heart patient or too nerve-wracking for the temperamental father. So with the help of an aunt and uncle, a piano was purchased. Its gleaming keys and massive presence in our tiny living room suggested that great music would fill our home. Instead, scales (poorly executed) and Chopsticks were all I could produce.

Not willing to give up on music so quickly, my parents decided the flute was a better option. So a flute was rented and a chair was selected. I was to spend my life sitting and playing the sweet-sounding tunes of the flute. There were only two problems: I didn't have an ounce of interest and skill when it came to anything musical, and the flute, when played correctly, plugs up the mouth, rendering the player unable to speak. And, for me, speaking was synonymous with breathing; it was what got me into trouble; it was my life. The flute showed much more promise as a weapon. With a simple flick of the wrist I could clunk my sister, Chris, whenever circumstances warranted it. And then, if my mother heard commotion, I could just as quickly return the flute to my mouth and assume the angelic look of a heart patient diligently practicing her craft.

About this time, kids in the neighborhood took to roller-skating. This seemed like fun, but the physical exertion presented a problem. Finally, not wanting their daughters to be left out, my parents purchased one pair of roller skates and announced that my sister and I could share. I got the left one, Chris took the right. Hitting the sidewalks on one skate slowed us down tremendously, enough for people who drove by to roll down the window and yell, "Hey, stupid! Don't you know you're supposed to use two skates?" It was the first example of the discrimination I experienced as a kid who was different, not to mention the fact that my sister began to realize she was regularly being sucked into arrangements specifically tailored to keep me sedentary. This did not make for a happy sister. It did, however, lead to many necessary additional clunkings of the flute to keep her attitude in check.

Part 2: And the Thump-Psssh Goes On!

Humorous Book Recommendations:             [ view all ]
Take Heart! True Stories of Life, Love, and Laughter
[Rudy Wilson Galdonik; 197 pages]
Rudy was born, as she shares in the excerpt "And the Thump-Psssh Goes On", with a hole in her heart but also with a marvelous gift for finding humor in her life. Readers will giggle, laugh, cry, feel the heart strings being tugged, and then finding themselves laughing out loud while reading this memoir. I enjoyed this book and oh-so-could relate at times. Can you relate?

Children have never been good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them.
-- James Baldwin

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Humor Is Relative thanks Cay Dickson, from Houston Chronicle, for the compliment!

Children always assume the sexual lives of their parents come to a grinding halt at their conception.
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Friends are relatives you make for yourself. -- Eustache Deschamps

I never see any home cooking. All I get is fancy stuff.
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