I don’t know how old I was when I began to exhibit signs of multiple talents - probably because I never thought of them as talents. I was simply finding enjoyment the only way I knew how. I was a “defective” youth in many ways. I was buck-toothed, asthmatic, dyslexic, skinny and shy. The shyness was likely the result of the first four. My last name was Mecham then, though being an introvert probably left few memory trails for anyone to follow.
Our family drifted from one state to another back then. What was difficult for me in one way was usually character building in another. I didn’t adjust well to the frequent change in environment, but I did learn a lot about different cultures and climates here in the lower 48.
As shortfalls display themselves early in life, so do talents. What we do with each is who we become. I never had braces, but I did grow into my mouth. My last asthma attack occurred when I was 19. I’m no longer skinny or shy, but the dyslexia has hung on. My book “Living without Ritalin” explores that subject more deeply. Suffice it to say, I learned to deal with it.
I can remember making up stories in my mind as early as age 8. My mother called it “daydreaming.” Unfortunately, due to the stigma attached to daydreaming, no one recognized the budding writer. Eventually my “daydreams” spilled on to paper. Still intimidated by the stigma, I hid it from all eyes until I was approaching thirty. Encouragement from a co-worker brought me out of the closet and I began to enter contests – and place!
Although I am most serious about writing, I never abandoned my other talents. I was drawing, painting, sculpting and carving before I hit my teens. Many of my fellow students kept my early artwork. I don’t know when my cake decorating skills transitioned into monetary gain, but I do remember my mother teaching me those skills. Mom could do just about anything – usually with better than average results. When I was about nine, Mom gave me one needle, some thread and some scrap material. I started out with doll clothes, but it gradually spread to many projects. I learned to knit and crochet from a co-worker and taught my mother. That was a rewarding experience. Of course, she mastered that too until her arthritic fingers could no longer hold the yarn and work the needles or hooks. I lost my mother in 2006, but I have retained the things she taught me.
I was blessed with an enormous amount of energy. I can remember at one point in my life I was president of two clubs, den mother, volunteer librarian and editor/publisher of two monthly newsletters - all at the same time. I had a full time job, two young boys, a husband and a farmstead to take care of as well. Looking back, I must have been a blur of activity. People were always telling me I should slow down, but like a runaway train, I had my speed up and too much behind me to stop abruptly. I was rarely ready to quit when the day ended, and I got up early in the morning, ready to start another day.
We moved away from the farm and I moved into a more time consuming job. Eventually I had to whittle down my hobbies. That was tough. I still make cakes occasionally, but I rarely carve or sculpt. With the coming of the electronic age, my artistic skills were thrown into a mixed bag of writing, e-painting, digital photography, and home publishing.
As I line up for the final run, I find my skills are more honed and my focus narrowed. I’ve been working out of the home since I was nineteen. My goal as I approach retirement is to work from home. Like so many of my generation, I find myself at odds in a world where honesty and integrity take back seat to monetary gain. It would be nice to wrap up my remaining work years with the talents and virtues that mean the most to me.
Linda L. Rigsbee
