“Tethered” In Remembrance of my Dear Mother Elaine this is a short story of us. It was in the fall of 1952 and my mother Elaine was pushing me in a carriage through the park. It was a warm day for the Fall Season, the sky was clear and I was dressed comfortably in a spiffy new jumpsuit and a cozy light cream color sweater, white socks and soft white leather baby shoes. Who knows where the carriage came from as it was as neat and classy a carriage as anyone could imagine. It had big wheels and soft springs so that it could easily glide over rough crevices in the city sidewalk. It had dark blue black lustrous paint and had a design in fine detail of gold swirl and an emblem that you’d find on a full sized royal horse carriage. In today’s dollars I’d expect it to cost at least $2,000. I know my parents didn’t have any money to spare so I assume that it must have been a gift from my Aunt Kitty and Aunt Mary or maybe a hand-me-down gift from some wealthy NYC apartment dweller. I have clear memories of that day as I was getting accustomed to frequently being out in the carriage seeing the colors of the trees and leaves, the constant drone of noise from the city, and the lovely sweet smell of the light breezy fall air in the park. Everything around me was calm and beautiful and I began thinking that I wanted to stand up while being pushed. I remember also for the first time becoming aware of the mechanical nature of that carriage. I remember it had a kind of a shell-like half cover that could be raised over the head area. The cushioned area underneath my back would raise half way up in order to create a sitting position and there was some sort of a weird contraption of a strap that was preventing me from being able to stand up in the carriage. It secured me to staying in the back half of the carriage. I could kneel and I could sit comfortably enough, but now that I was aware of being constrained I was beginning to get upset and I started trying to figure out how the strap worked. Seeing my frustration my mother spoke to me kindly and managed to distract me a few times but I kept remembering the strap, this horrible tether thing that was limiting my world keeping me trapped in the back section of the carriage where visibility was minimized and all this for the sake of safety. Actually I knew nothing of safety but imagine how unreasonable this was to me. How could anyone be capable to perform such an atrocity? To be mechanically latched and confined to one spot was appalling. Was I being jailed, had I wronged someone and was now being punished for some abhorrently dreadful act? Oh! And What if the Carriage Got Loose Going Down Hill…??? In just a few minutes I was beyond frustration and with a feeling of helplessness I began to cry and I was ready to fight too as fists had formed at the ends of my two shorter limbs! I couldn’t figure out how this tether thing was connected to me. Now I managed to get my feet up and under me in order to push with all my strength with my legs until it would break. But my legs were fully bent at the knees in a very weak position and the tether was too short to allow me to extend my legs which made it even more frustrating. I chose this memory to write about because it’s just so touching knowing the incredible love, kindness, and soothing patient tolerance that mothers possess. My mother had these qualities and in fact had more than her share. I expect that she knew my dilemma even before I knew she was aware that I was at war with the tether. After just a few attempts at calming me down she realized that I simply couldn’t tolerate being constrained now that I was onto knowing about this impossible mechanical thing. Mom bent down to unhook the tether and picked me up to calm me down. Some of my limbs were slightly out of control and lunging about but when she hugged me to her and gave me the shhh—shhh, there-there-now, with my head on her shoulder, her hand on my head, thumb stroking my hair at a slow gentle deliberate pace, I began to relax. Feeling her warmth and smelling the sweet familiar fragrance of her auburn hair sparkling in the sunshine, I hugged her and she briefly tightened her hug which assured me she loved me, and that I had the full focus of her attention and affection, and that she was thinking of nothing more than us, just her and I. Even the noise of the city was quieted with my right ear pressed to her shoulder, her right hand slightly covering my exposed ear, we felt the love between us, and within just a minute of the time of my readiness to shout out my new understanding of this tether thing, to make a steadfast declaration of war and announce to the world the injustice of tethering, in that very next minute, I nearly fell asleep… The rest of the world melted away in that moment, but there’s a hundred more of those moments that I could have chosen to write about. I have no doubt that in my early childhood, that I had a mother that loved me more than life. I know most people don’t remember their early years. When I think of it the clearest memories for me back then were those charged with strong emotions, but I also remember Mom changing me. It wasn’t a chore for her. On the contrary it was a few minutes of play time and being together. I loved the way she looked as she bent over me, with me lying on the bed, her arms straddling my sides, her fluffy hair framing her face and neck, talking and shaking her head from side to side, making her hair sway with the movement and keeping the moment fun. She’d smile and say something like “there’s my sweet littlest man”, speaking playfully all the while making the awkwardness of the moment, of changing a soiled poopy diaper simply evaporate. In those moments I loved her so much that I’d have the overwhelming urge to tighten my arms and fists and scruntch up my face, eyes closed, with a huge smile because I was just bursting with joy. Now at the park, the carriage sat with its wheels locked in place as Mom calmly and gently placed me back into the carriage, this time showing me that the strap was tucked to the side and assuring me that I would ride without a tether. She let me know that I had to remain sitting or kneeling. I didn’t exactly get her meaning but I knew I had to stay low. I didn’t attempt to stand up because I actually enjoyed being good because she was so good to me. I was perfectly okay with this new rule that agreed with my terms. I imagine Mom had to keep a close eye on me but I never did fall out of that carriage. I did eventually do my share of falling though as once I fell out of my crib in the middle of the night, I have stiches and scar to prove it. They lowered the bars on the sides of the crib after my stitches healed so I would never again fall to the floor from the height of crawling over the top of the bars. As you might already imagine I have no tolerance for confinement. I love that I could trust my Mom, Elaine to do everything she could to understand what I was trying to convey to her. I had just turned 1 on Oct 6th that Fall and I think that day of tether-less carriage riding occurred right around that time. I truly wish that more people were able to, or would try to recall their earliest memories. It’s a time when mothers are still in awe of their new baby and the child in awe of their Mom. It's a time of nurturing and unquenchable love. Dearest Mom, I love you I'll never forget