Yesterday I read in Guidepost magazine about a lady who wrote letters to her daughter from the time her daughter went to camp until the lady died at 92. It reminded me of letters from my own Mama.
I'm sure I have written before that my mother did not finish high school. After her freshman year, she had rhuematoid arthritis and was bedridden for most of a year. She never went back to school.
She read lots of magazines and taught herself proper English and could spell almost any word that was in common usage.
She wrote letters to her mother and sisters - and maybe even to her brothers. She wrote letters to my brothers when they were in the service. She wrote letters to them and their wives when they got married. I guess I could say my mother was definitely a letter writer!
She began writing to me when I went away to college - a letter every week. I haunted my dorm mailbox waiting for those letters. She wrote about the things that were happening in my little home town and about the people I knew, keeping me up to date.
She continued writing those letters to me when I got married and moved to Ft. Riley. Several years later she continued writing letters when our little family moved to Iowa - where I knew only my husband and my daughter. It was a very lonely time for me. Mom's letters came regularly and helped me feel not so alone.
She wrote letters when we moved her out of her home in 1982. Then she spent time with my brother and his family in Kansas City and with my oldest brother in Castle Rock.
When she finally moved to Castle Rock permanently, the letters stopped because we spoke on the phone once a week. Somehow, talking on the phone really didn't take the place of those weekly letters. Now, I wish I had kept some of those letters so I could go back a revisit that simpler time of my life.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
What I do When I am Not Blogging
My jewelry-making teacher tells me I should be publishing my jewelry items to the blog so you all can see what I am doing when I am not blogging. The top photo is of corona earrings; the middle is a "caterpillar" bracelet; and the bottom is a "sidewinder" bracelet. These two types of bracelets are my favorite ones to make. The sidewinder goes together in about 2 hours. The caterpillar bracelet has a base layer and then embellishments on the top. It takes about 8 hours to complete.
The ladies in our families get jewelry for gifts. I think they like that!
Of course, making jewelry is not the only thing I do when I am not blogging. I am also very involved in genealogy research. This is an addictive hobby just as working with beads is addictive. You can see, I need to limit the addictions in my life so I have time to do other things.
My memories have come to an important part of my life that needs more thought given to what I write. So that is happening also!
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Time Out from College: Small Town Saturday Night
Our small hometown was thriving when we were growing up in the 40s and 50s. It is much different now because all the little towns are dying out.
Saturday night was a special night of the week. It was a social night. All the farmers cleaned up from work and came to town to bring their produce, to buy groceries, maybe to attend a wedding dance, and to visit with their friends and neighbors.
Daddy would park the car in front of one of the stores about 4:30 or 5 p.m. Then he would walk home. We would eat supper and afterwards walk uptown as a family. We sat in the car to watch the people walking by. It was also a night when we would get a 5-cent ice cream cone. (that was a single dip back then!) We also would get out of the car and "window shop." The stores stayed open until 10 p.m. (Now the streets are deserted by 6 p.m.)
Seeing all the folks we didn't see during the week was nice. My parents visited with friends, my brothers would try to take the local drunk's handkerchief out of his back pocket and my parents or my brothers would take me by the hand and walk with me.
Most people enjoyed Saturday night in our small town. That was a simpler time when everyone knew everyone else.
Saturday night was a special night of the week. It was a social night. All the farmers cleaned up from work and came to town to bring their produce, to buy groceries, maybe to attend a wedding dance, and to visit with their friends and neighbors.
Daddy would park the car in front of one of the stores about 4:30 or 5 p.m. Then he would walk home. We would eat supper and afterwards walk uptown as a family. We sat in the car to watch the people walking by. It was also a night when we would get a 5-cent ice cream cone. (that was a single dip back then!) We also would get out of the car and "window shop." The stores stayed open until 10 p.m. (Now the streets are deserted by 6 p.m.)
Seeing all the folks we didn't see during the week was nice. My parents visited with friends, my brothers would try to take the local drunk's handkerchief out of his back pocket and my parents or my brothers would take me by the hand and walk with me.
Most people enjoyed Saturday night in our small town. That was a simpler time when everyone knew everyone else.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)