Around the age of twelve, I started experiencing an ache in my collarbones, as if my bones🦴 were badly bruised. When I told my mother, she said, "Oh, that's just growing pains. It happens during a big growth spurt."
That growth spurt turned into a process, a metamorphosis of some sort, as one day I was a medium sized kid, the next day I was stretched out like a pulled piece of taffy. 🍬 So tall and skinny, people started calling me Olive Oyle, the cartoon character with long ropey arms and skinny Kermit The Frog 🐸 legs.
Years later, I read a study about growth plates in young children and teens that determines the length and shape of the mature bones, and that the plates close and stop growing around the age of 14-15. And that females achieve 80% of their clavicle length by the age of nine. Boys by the age of twelve.
Apparently, my body was never privy to that study, since I was the only one who continued to grow all the way into my senior year. As for all the other kids at my school, they took their cotton-picking time to grow into their bodies, as I went on to be the tallest person I knew. And by golly, I didn't like it. Not one single bit.
When I graduated from high school,🏫 I was 5'8 1/2" tall, which for girls back then, that was really tall, as most of my friends were 5' 2" or shorter. If growth plates were measured like dinner wear, then everyone I knew had the salad plate size, whereas I had the full dinner-size shape in bone growth. 🍽
During my teen years, I was busting out of my frame, the way the Incredible Hulk burst out of his body. The way he tore through his clothes, his shoes, his entire body, Hoo-Wee I could only imagine the pain in his collar bones.
Being the tallest in my class made me feel like a misfit. Like Cousin Marilyn in the Munster's, the only character who felt like an outcast among all her ghoulish relatives. Even though Marilyn appeared normal, being different from her family made her feel like an outcast. It's not always about how you look, but more about how you fit in. Especially in high school!!!
Me, the long skinny Olive Oyle on the right,
sitting next to a high school friend.
In the book, Mercy Me, young Mercy
Walker goes through her own growth spurt. At a young age, she feels the way Marilyn Munster did, convinced nothing about her matches the people around her. But the summer of '63 she discovers she's not a lone misfit.
After being sent to live with her three elderly aunts, Mercy discovers a world of oddball characters. It's there she experiences a significant growth spurt, the way her shoes no longer fit her feet, and her thoughts no longer fit her young mind.
By the end of the summer, she's changed so much, she longs to unzip her body and climb out and exhale a new breath. And in her own way, she does just that. The anatomy of her soul opens up, allowing her spirit to burst free as it dares to take its first steps.
Mercy Me at a Memphis bookstore
NOVEL MEMPHIS
Mercy Me
By: Anna J. Wise
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