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7:26:00 PM EDT
Feeling Quiet
Hearing "When My Morning Comes Around" - Iris Dement
my mother's memories
One of the best things about my mom was that she loved to tell stories about her past. Her childhood, her early years of marriage... all of it. I consider that a rare treasure. And as much as my mom and I were at odds for certain parts of my life, that is one thing I appreciate.
You see, I have ALWAYS loved a story. I'm forever trying to worm stories out of people, and most folks are reluctant to give those tales up. I remember as a little girl trying to get Grandma to tell about her childhood, and she never seemed willing to do that.
Oh, but Mother was willing!
She told how she and her next-youngest sibling, my Uncle Carl, went fishing together. But their dad wouldn't let them go fishing until they each weeded two rows of the garden.
Mother told how, in the coldest part of wintertime, her dad would hitch up horses to a sleigh. All the kids would bundle up for the trip to Church, or to town. Grandma would heat bricks on the wood stove and wrap them up, for the kids to put their feet against.
In more pleasant weather, Grandma would hitch the horses to a wagon herself, load up the kids, and go into Eagleville to visit her parents.
My grandma gave all her kids a drop of kerosene in a teaspoon of sugar in the spring, to get rid of worms.
Mother talked about her Uncle Fishade, who evidently was a hobo, showing up once in a blue moon and leaving behind one of the baskets he'd woven.
And about visiting Aunt Sadie (oh, she was a BIG woman) in Arkansas, and how they'd lift up the boards of the floor in their living room and reach down and get the eggs the hens had laid under the house. Aunt Sadie had a Victorola, and Mother taught me to sing "In A Lonely Village Churchyard" just like she learned it in Arkansas.
I heard about their trip to the Black Hills of South Dakota, and how Uncle Leo, the baby, was bitten by so many mosquitoes one night when they camped beside the river that his whole body swelled up. And how, on Sunday, they had church, just their family, on the mountainside, taking communion and all.
When Mother and Daddy decided to get married in December of 1932, the roads were muddy and the car got stuck and wouldn't go any further. So Mother and Daddy walked the rest of the way, got married, and spent the night with some friends. What a honeymoon night, huh?
Mother said, "I knew what was going to happen after we got married, but I didn't think he would do it THE FIRST NIGHT!"
These are only a few of the wonderful stories Mother told me.
I'm SO glad my mother told me about her past.
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My family was reluctant to talk about the past also...wish they had tho....Hugs...Ora
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PS: A drop of kerosene in a teaspoon of sugar?? Oh my goodness! Sounds toxic.. but I guess it wasn't! Your mom lived to tell the story, and the worms must have disappeared too! lol
Hugs,
Jackie
http://journals.aol.com/siennastarr/Waitingtoexhale/ -
I love stories too, Donna! The ones that MY mother told were good ones too, although I feel she didn't tell enough of them, and, of course, dying so young didn't help either.
I talk about things from my past to my kids all the time. Probably to the point of ad nauseum! lol They don't always enjoy hearing about my stories NOW, but hopefully, when I am dead and gone, they will remember and appreciate them, just as you and I do!
Jackie
http://journals.aol.com/siennastarr/Waitingtoexhale/ -
you are blessed...my folks didn't tak of their past....just once in a great while they would make a comment...but wouldn't embellish it...so I will just enjoy yours...Hugs...Ora
7/13/06 7:15 PM
Cheryl
http://journals.aol.com/cste6