Happy Birthday, Nyds!

November 10, 2015

Dad met Nydia Jenkins at church. Well, we all met at church. And so at that same church they married in 1981. I was seven.

I spent the greater part of the next decade playing Jekyll and Hyde in the form of a brown-eyed stepdaughter for this kind, well-intentioned stepmother. I was generally a good, albeit sad and screwed up kid who took most of my inner turmoil out on poor Nyds. Granted, there were some rules and regulations imposed on us that I deemed horrific and have yet to understand, but the poor woman was doing her best. I could be a little shit. That's all there is to it.

She remained steadfast, being a wife to my busy and rather public Pops and insta-mom to two kids, all while teaching full time. In fact, she sacrificed her successful career as a speech and debate coach to be that wife and mom. I know it broke her heart, although she never once complained. The rest of her years in the high school classroom were dedicated to teaching English.

You walked out of her sophomore English classroom with a better command of the King's English and a stronger working vocabulary than when you first walked in. You also left more polite or lost an appendage during your time there: "crude, rude and socially unacceptable" was her definitive and ultimate indictment of adolescent behavior that was so deserving. And I know. I was one of her students.

As a matter of fact, our relationship changed forever during the year I spent in her class. I was simultaneously falling in love with debate. She understood. We had common ground that led to an enduring friendship. Her example and guidance shaped me into the debate coach I became.

My kids are a great gift to a great many people. But I have always seen them specially created for Nyds. I have a lot to make up for where she is concerned. I watch Grace and Drew BE the happiness Nyds so deserves. She has played a pivotal role in who they are. She should be proud, and I know she is. 

Nydia is a selfless person. She is kind, thoughtful, accommodating. She will put up with unkindness, thoughtlessness, and selfishness to a point. But--to her credit--she has a tipping point of no return. I've only seen her reach it sparingly. She is a sweet, God-fearing, soft-spoken lady. But she is no doormat. My kind of broad!

Oh she has her quirks: she paper clips every other page as she reads her current book; she has an affection for post-it notes, legal pads and list-making that would land her in rehab were post-it notes, legal pads and lists the likes of meth or booze; she puts her purse in a sack at ballgames to protect it from the elements. She overpacks and uses too many ziplocs. This will come as no shock and no affront to her when she reads this: she ALSO has a sense of humor and doesn't get her knickers in a twist when we poke fun at what could be considered diagnosable neuroses.

She is one of a kind.

Interestingly enough, on the day after Mom died, there was an article in the local paper about her death. Just beneath it was an article about the success of Nydia's speech and debate squad at the Parkview tournament that weekend. On that same day, Winnie, one of Mom's friends, was staying with us while Nydia (also a good friend of Winnie's) helped take care of Winnie's kids. When Winnie came home, she couldn't explain it, but she looked at Nydia and said, "I...I think you are supposed to be with those kids."

And so she was. And so she has been these many years.

To Nydia:  so much more than Bill Rowe's wife, Grammy, Nyds, master teacher, organist, friend...Happy Birthday. Just keep having them. Lots of them. Ok?