Do Overs

Ham hated his nickname, but it wouldn’t go away if he stayed in the small midwestern farm community. He had hoped that when he went to college “Ham” would be left behind, but it only took a day when someone from his hometown recognized him and greeted him; there it was again, As he had his whole life, Ham grinned and bear it, but every time it happened, Ham wanted so much to be someone else.

His father, Jack, a local Icon and personality, had christened him the day he was born. The nurse handed Jack his son, saying, “congratulations, let me introduce you to Jonathon ” Jack held him and announced, ” He feels and looks like a Ham” Laughter was the response he desired, and Jack’s desire was delivered easier than Ham’s

Jack Jensen was a 4th- generation farmer and 4th- generation Bank Board of Directors. 2nd- generation Co-op board member, and 2nd-generation Waverly, Iowa School board member. Jack was asked to run for State Senate a few years back. It was entertaining thought for a day-savoring the feeling of being desired and wooed- but anchored to his small community, and not having everyone love him scared him to death. Jack knew where his influence was, and the farther he traveled out of the world of Bremer County, the more his comfort level regressed. He could travel to Iowa City for meetings and occasional sporting events. Jack had found that large donations of money to the UI Athletic dept every year made his visits to Iowa City easier. The ability to have many tickets to hand out to friends and employees would always be a way to bring more affirmations that he so desperately yearned for.

The relief felt the day Ham left for college in Iowa City was like washing years of sand off his skin, and Ham could finally let go of the feeling he was always holding his breath. Driving his Toyota Corolla down the highway, the music was his and only his. Miles Davis was speaking to him with his fertile emotional blues. Loud was an understatement and restless, and Miles’s restless horn talked to him; the calming effect was his battle cry of ” Freedom. Not sure of the exact rhythm, Ham banged out all the energy on the steering wheel.

Then a Chevrolet Camaro passed him, and his euphoric moment slipped away. It was the car his father wanted to buy him for graduation. Jack’s voice became louder than Miles’ for a moment. , Hugger Orange Musel car, “Strap your hands across my engine”- Bruce was God to Jack, and so were fast cars. If Jack wanted to give a gift, you better take it because it was like putting him on a dime and watching him spin. Jack would not stop until you acquiesced. Jack didn’t understand, “No”, and It wrecked his grandiose moment hearing anything contrary. Ham’s mother, Sally, rarely put her foot down, but over her dead body was Ham going to drive a car that was that fast and dangerous.

Sally Faith Jensen was a transplant her junior year in high school from Richland Center, Wisconsin. Sally’s father had been transferred to Waverly to manage the True Value store. Her mother had left a week before Sally’s third birthday. Any kind of conversation about her mother or why she left was absent, leaving a constant hole in Sally that manifested itself in how she carried herself.- Shy, mysterious, and a look of longing that made her blue Scandinavian eyes even bluer. Jack knew the first time he laid eyes on Sally that he wanted her. What Jack wanted Jack got.

Ham stopped at a truck stop for some coffee, He hadn’t slept with the anticipation of leaving for college and fear of leaving his mother alone. When Ham would wake in the morning, Jack had left at 5:30 to meet the other local crop farmers at the local. diner. Ham had been responsible for waking his mother since fifth grade, and it was not an easy task. He would begin passively, opening the blinds and turning on the radio to jazz. If no response, he would clap his hands and sing along with the jazz channel, making up his own words. Last resort, he would sit on the bed hard, sending the vibration through the bed. When she awoke, she said the same thing every time.” Morning Love, how about some breakfast.?” “No ma, I’m late but made you some coffee. ” The coffee at the truck stop was tame compared to what Ham had made every morning for his mother.

Sally finally awoke at 11 am. on the first day with Ham gone. It felt strange and different from when Ham went camping for a week or when he had traveled to the city for a weekend of music. Sally understood her feeling of loneliness, but what was confusing her was envy. Guilt was daily. Sally knew she had more inside than the demons holding her back. Sally made coffee, put on Ham’s favorite jazz channel, and began her day knowing that nothing was going to be the same, especially the coffee.

Sally’s slow descent with her own mental health issues had begun years ago. She would pretend that she had control and could just leave them at home or prayed she could misplace them, but they were never far from her. Sally started to menstruate, and everything intensified with no mother at home and a father who loved her but lacked communication skills. Sally, sadly like many children, had to fend for her mental health on her own. Not until she moved to Waverly did the high school guidance counselor recognize that Sally needed help with her depression.

Ham was adamant that he did not want his parents to accompany him to college. Sally’s crying and Jack’s egocentric humor would be more than he could handle. The fourth floor was going to be a bit of an issue; his vinyl collection was massive and needed to be handled with care. His new roommate greeted him at the door of room 425 with “Jon! I’m Sam, Welcome Home!” Jonathan smiled, nodded, and thought maybe “Ham” finally was gone.

Ham’s love for collecting vinyl albums started in junior high. The school bus had dropped him at the end of the half-mile driveway. Ham was never in a hurry to make that trek to the house, taking his time and letting his mind drift to different places. It was fall, but no trees could be seen. The corn was eight high on both sides of the driveway, creating a massive green tunnel with an unclouded blue sky. Ham thought how similar it would appear if his view was upside down. He arrived at the house and on the porch was the mail, which he never paid much any mind to. Ham never received mail. His communication was his android and emails. As Ham walked by the mail he caught a glimpse of a small square brown box addressed in cursive: Sir Jonathon Jensen Esquire, 1666 Johnson Way, Waverly, Iowa 50677. No return address. Ham tore the brown paper from the box, stuck his hand into the styrofoam peanuts, and pulled out three record albums: Blood on the Tracks, Bob Dylan; Sticky Fingers, Rolling Stones: and Abbey Road, The Beatles.

Sally’s mother, Jules, would take all the ice out of the freezer and put it in a large metal mixing bowl. Immediately she would bury her face in it and begin counting backward from a hundred. Jules’s self-treatment escalated and became a routine, including Jules walking to the corner store to buy more ice. She would try to time it so Sally could be put down for her nap. The older Sally became, the more difficult it became to treat herself; the voices became louder and more frequent. In Jules’s moments of clarity, she became consumed with fear of what the other part of her was capable of. Jules only had two things that would slow the onslaught of what she referred to as “dynamite under her wings.” The first she had learned as a teen was that when she would dive into the lake, swimming deep into the cold layer, a calm surrounded her, and she felt safe. Jules thought many times, “So this is what normal is like”. Jules also found listening to music would change her direction. The more she could let go and have the music move her, the more she could defer the other part of her.

While working at State Street in Madison, Jules met Sally’s father, Dwight. Dwight was ending his frosh year with a full-ride academic scholarship. Chemistry was his love and major, but his draft number was 6. It was all but sure that Dwight would not return for his Sophomore year. The subculture of the times was perfect for Jules. The State Street scene was a place where you could become whoever you wanted, and it was perfect for hiding from the other part of her. Jules had landed a job at a record store just down from the Orpheum Theater and rented a one-bedroom above the store. She was smitten the first time she talked to Dwight. Tall, verdant green eyes looked like a spring lawn, a half-smile, and shy. Dwight was not so sure about Jules, but something made him keep coming back to the record store to experience more of her.

Ham had just started to find himself away from Waverly; he wasn’t Jack’s boy or the strange, geeky rich kid. Ham slowly took down his guard and let himself get to know people and have fun for the first time in years. Laughing had never felt so easy, and there were girls with whom he felt comfortable enough to carry on conversations, Ham wasn’t invisible anymore.

The doorbell rang and it surprised Sally as she couldn’t recall the last time she had heard it. The only people that came in and out of the house were Ham and Jack. Deliveries were left on the porch. Her father very seldom made the trip all the way out to the farm: maybe for Christmas. Sally went to the door forgetting that the stereo was at max volume. The heavy oak door opened and she couldn’t hear what the officer was saying but she could see that his mouth was moving, Sally never knew she could read lips

Ham received a text from his mother but didn’t open it until class was over. All it Said was “Bad accident! call me Asap! “

Ham had to wait for the Medevac helicopter to bring his father to the University of Iowa Hospital. Concerned for his mother who would be driving the distance by herself; he so wanted to be by her side. When Sally had called her father to see if he could drive her, he just replied, “I want to but I just can’t.” Ham couldn’t shake the feeling of numbness. He had no idea how he had arrived at the University Hospital, or how long he had been waiting.

Ham was waiting in the emergency room as Sally entered through the revolving door. She stumbled in looking dazed and scattered holding a cup of coffee. He found it strange that she had stopped for coffee but Ham put it aside quickly and braced himself to give his mother the news. “He didn’t make it”. Sally fell into the chair. Ham quickly sat next to her and was taken back by his total emptiness

The bank and the family lawyer made all the funeral arrangements. Sally was not consulted, but she just didn’t care. Ham was asked if he wanted to eulogize Jack and was reminded by the family lawyer of the touching words Jack had given at Ham’s Granfathers’s funeral. Ham politely declined three times. Ham wasn’t going to accept the guilt anymore.

Ham leaned over and whispered in Sally’s ear. “No-Till means you get paid by the Government not to plant the 1000 acres on the north side of the farm.”This just didn’t make sense to Sally. Jack hated the government; why would he ever take money from them? Sally began to squirm in the big hardwood chair in the lawyer’s office; this was not where she wanted to be. They had been joined by the farm’s accountant, along with two assistants who looked younger than Ham. The message they were conveying was loud and clear from the lawyer and accountant. She had nothing to worry about, She was set for life and so was Ham. The only thing that was extremely absolute was that if no direct blood relative of Jack was going to farm the 6000 acres it would be sold off. Ham was it, and he had exactly two years to make up his mind.

Ham went into his father’s office and avoided sitting in his chair, but he did take a look around at the awards, and the photos with politicians, and athletes. He had never paid much attention, but it overwhelmed him-the evidence of where his father’s energy had been . Not one photo of his mother or him anywhere in the office. Ham noticed a metal box on top of the cabinet. He pulled a chair over, making a mark on the hardwood floor. He stopped, and regained his composure, realizing that he wasn’t going to be lambasted for the mistake. Ham placed the box on his father’s desk, and without thinking, he slid into his father’s chair. In the box were hundreds of postcards, and Ham wondered why his father would have saved them. He began pulling them out one at a time and reading them. The first few had just gibberish that made no sense, but they all shared a few things in common They were addressed to his mother in Richland Center Wisconsin, and signed Love Mom. The handwriting looked familiar, but not sure where he had seen it.

Sally was comforted by the return of a routine, now that Ham was home. She so enjoyed their morning talks but was very careful to not demonize Ham’s father or to sound too relieved with Jack’s absence. For the first time in years, Sally felt hopeful about the future. She was getting up in the morning, beginning to eat better, and having whole days of feeling good.

Ham watched his mother continue to evolve every day. Sally started to do her own grocery shopping and even some of her own housecleaning. She would pick up Ham’s grandfather on Sundays and bring him out to the farm for lunch. Ham knew that the catalyst was that his father was gone, but also that his mother was drinking less, taking her meds, and seeing her therapist. Ham was seeing more of the smile he had enjoyed over the years when he would wake his mother in the morning, and even a bigger smile when she would wake Ham for breakfast. The house was a warm and safe place now. It was hard to think of leaving, but he needed to begin thinking of his future.

Ham hid the box of postcards in his bedroom, and it became a nightly ritual of reading and deciphering each card. The card’s postmarks were from all over the Midwest. On the front of one card was” Welcome to Hibbing Minnesota”, and on the back was written ” I made it!”, My Boot heals are wandering, Love Mommy”. Another was from Memphis Tennessee, with a photo of the gate at Grace land. Written on the back was the word” KING ! ” , Love Mommy. The date would vary from three times a month to whole years missing and some were from truck stops with nothing but a smile face drawn on the back. The most elaborate cards were from the Mendota Hospital in Wisconsin. Magnificent drawings using small musical notes. Postcards with poetry and cards confessing her sins. Ham knew that the tme would come that he would need to share them with his mother. The question he had was, why did father have these post cards addressed to his mother from his gandmother Jules ?

Dwight could solve any problem customer’s had . His vast knowledge base was truly amazing. He knew carburetors and the perfect ph. balance in soil for a rose bush. The only things Dwight failed at were his own emotions and his ability to communicate how he felt. His body language was even tough to read. He was always in check and in control, but inside he so wanted the part himself he had left in Southeast Asia. The joyful hopeful Dwight he could still recall until his 19^th birthday. Dwight had been invited to Waverly’s VFW numerous times over the years but always politely declined. One afternoon the local VFW set up a food stand in front of the hardware store to raise money for their local chapter. Dwight was trapped and knew he was going to be asked again to join, but no one did and no one tried to sell him at all. He found himself looking out the window interacting with each other and as usual he didn’t have the ability to identify what he was feeling. Dwight started to do what he had done for a long time : block and go someplace else. Larry the high school physic teacher and also a member of the local VFW came in the door asking Dwight if they could borrow some Tape to put up a sign, “Absolutely what are you looking for “Dwight replied.”.Si₃N₄ “Digital Instruments NP, 100 mm cantilever length, 20−40 nm radius of curvature, 0.1−0.4 N/m spring constant” Larry said with a smirk. Dwight laughed harder than he had in years. Larry convinced Dwight to come out with the tape and help put up the sign. This slight interaction was the beginning of Dwight’s fulfilling his longing for some serenity in his tormented and lost self.

While Sally was preparing lunch for Ham and her father Ham took advantage of his time alone on the patio with his grandfather to ask him .”Grand pa what do you know about a box full of postcards from Grand ma Jules? “Dwight’s head fell into his hands. He took a long deep breath, and for the first time Ham saw his grandfather vulnerable and not in check.

Ham was reassured by his grandfather that he would confess his terrible choice of withholding the postcards from Sally. Even more so, the frantic phone calls from her mother over the years and the worse sin of sharing it all with his son-in-law Jack, and not his own daughter. Ham had seen a change the last few months in his grandfather and his mother, but was it enough? Ham was resolved that he had no control over the outcome but knew that it was needed to move forward.

Sally picked up her father in front of his house for their Sunday meal at the farm. Dwight was carrying a simple brown grocery bag tight to his chest with one arm as he opened the door to the car. Both of them found it easier to communicate while in the car, with no distractions. They had communicated more in the last few months than they both could remember. The 25 minutes to and from the farm had become their intimate time. Never anything too heavy or intense, but at that moment, as honest as they both could be.

The radio was set on a jazz station. It was a perfect Sunday morning in the Hawkeye state. The temperature was in the low 60s, with an endless blue sky with just a touch of clouds. The corn was tall and healthy and the only traffic on the roads were the heathens. “I have something very important to share with you,” Dwight said softly. Sally lowered the volume of the radio. “Wonderful! , Can’t wait!”Dwight slowly and in a steady rhythm disclosed his transgressions, not making excuses or even implying he was protecting her. He just repeated his fear of losing her. He gave them to Jack just in case something happened to him.

” I realized immediately that it was a mistake. Please don’t hate me.” Sally turned up the radio and didn’t say a word until she saw her neighbor on her way home from church.

“Hypocrite ” she muttered.

“What? “asked Dwight.

“Not you dad. I love you more than anything. You and Ham are my life.”

Dwight smiled.

“I have had many issues and for the first time, I am working on myself. I spent years working on the fact that Mom walked out on not only me but us.” Sally asserted

” I don’t hate her. I don’t need her. What I need is to be me.” Sally pulled the car over and hugged Dwight. The longest hug she can remember from her father.

Ham, Sally, and Dwight sat at the kitchen table. Dwight talked about Jules with ease, knowing that it wasn’t going to affect any part of his relationship with his daughter and grandson. Thumbing through postcards Ham understood more and more of Jules’story after she left. knowing well that the lapse of time with no contact must have been hell for her. Homeless and maybe worse. “Music was always her passion and part of her.”Dwight proclaimed. He told the two of them the story of meeting her in Madison at a record store .”The reference to music is consistent on so many postcards, and Im sure grandma Jules was the one sending me albums; Im certain of it”Ham replied. “This makes me sad but resolved and hopeful for us,” said Sally. “How’s that? “asked Ham

“I’m sad that we never got to know Jules. I wish so much that my mother would have received the help she needed. Resolved that we all have a path now to some serenity. Hopeful that with little help and hard work we can start to move forward,” replied Sally. Dwight smiled and grabbed both of them by the hands, raised them above his head and shouted “Forward!”
Ham laughed loudly . Two of the most important people in his life were joyful, and Ham now knew it was time to get back to school and on with his own journey.

Ham was all packed and ready to head back to school. His Toyota was loaded with his music collection, and he had made arrangements to have his mother bring up the majority of his clothes the following weekend. Ham was hoping that Sally would bring his grandfather along to keep her company and they all could do lunch somewhere outside right off of campus. The drive was as if everything was in slow motion., Ham thought how strange it seemed to be beginning something again. Time felt different, and hollow , so Ham found himself counting the number of black cars he saw ; a counting game he played as a child when in the truck with his father. As Ham took the exit to get to the university, there was a large bill board with a picture of an elderly woman holding the hand of a young boy as they were jumping into a lake. Under the figures was written “,Trust.” He wasn’t sure what it was advertising, but he immediately thought of his Grandmother Jules and what they had missed with her leaving. Led Zeppelin’s “When the Levee Breaks” came on the radio,. and Ham was reminded of her gift of the love of music. As he listened to the refrain, “Goin’ down, Goin’ down now, ” Ham turned up the volume as high as he could stand it and thought maybe it was’s time to tell his mother about his voices. : Max volume wasn’t drowning them out anymore. 

The End

WE ARE ALL MESSY

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