My Special Day

Several years ago when I was a little girl, we visited my grandmother every Sunday.  Once a month after our visits, my mother and I would drive into the city where there were a few big department stores.  Sometimes for a special treat, we would stop at a fast food place near one of the stores.  In the early 60s, fast food places were not common.  People just didn't eat out like they do today.

To celebrate my birthday this week, my family asked where I wanted to eat.  I replied, '"McDonalds", because we were going to be celebrating on Sunday.  I explained that going to eat there would remind me of the special times my mom and I had.

A few years ago when Eric and I were in Illinois, we found the site of the first McDonalds restaurant.  It was exactly like the one where we would eat on Sundays.  It was a good stroll down memory lane for us as we began to talk about our childhood.  Such little things back then now seem like big things.

The 10 of us ate lunch together yesterday.  The little ones had their burgers, fries and orange drink.  Just like I had, years ago.  I wonder if they will remember it in years to come.

My Mother's Life

Several years ago, my mother started writing her life's history.  She thought that everyone should share their past with their family.  She wrote something every week; sometimes it was her siblings birthdates and sometimes she wrote about her childhood.

After she passed away and we were cleaning out the house, we found the papers where she had written the information.  Some were in a notebook, some writings were on a scratch pad and some were in files on her computer.

I brought the papers home to organize and compile them in order.  As usual, my good intentions took a back seat to everyday life and the papers were stored in a box.  A few weeks ago, I got the box down from the attic.

Since my mom had not written down anything in chronological order, I had to read them and try to piece them together.  There were duplicates where she had written the same story over and over.  Even after throwing away some of them, the sheet of papers stretched into 2 rooms.

I have started to retype everything to make copies for my family.  It has been interesting to read what she did as a child.  2 stories in particular stuck out to me.

In the mid 1930s,  my mom was in the 4th grade and some women from a Bible college came to visit her school.  The college had a program where the students could memorize Bible verses and earn gifts.  The gifts included a booklet of the Gospel of John, a plaque and a Bible storybook.  Each week the students would come to school early and recite the scriptures to the teachers.  For learning 500 verses, anyone could go to summer camp for a week.  My mother practiced at home, learned the required Bible verses and she was able to attend the camp located in the N C mountains.  She wrote that camp was strict but she had a lot of fun doing crafts and swimming.  What stuck in her mind all those years later, were the lights she saw from the top of the mountain.  She had never seen sights like this before and it certainly made an impression on her.

When my mom was in the 8th grade, her school had a banquet one night.  Mom's family was poor and they lived out in the country.  The mother of a classmate made all of the arrangements for her daughter and my mother to get from their home to downtown Charlotte.  It was a very complicated time, catching a ride with a neighbor to his job, walking a few blocks, attending the dinner, riding a city bus back to the neighbor's job, then going home.  It made for a very long day and night.  When her older brother found out about the banquet, he took my mother to a shop in town and purchased a new outfit for her. She later said she had no idea how he paid for everything.  But she was very appreciative for everything that had been done for her to attend the dinner.

I have learned a lot about my mother's life.  I would recommend everyone write down things about their life, add pictures and keep it all together.  Share it with your family NOW so they can ask questions about things you have written.  Don't let your past be lost.

Hollywood Canteen

Eric and I recently watched an old movie that had been released in 1944.  The title was 'Hollywood Canteen' and it starred many actors and actresses from that time period.  The Hollywood Canteen was a real club started by Bette Davis and was a place for all military members.  Soldiers and sailors could go to the club, have refreshments, hear music and dance.  Well known bands wanted to play for the crowds, popular singers would perform and famous people would serve sandwiches and drinks.  Everything was free and many men and women visited the club. 

As Eric and I sat there transported back over 70 years ago, we couldn't help but comment on the unity of our country then.  Whether the people agreed with the war or the political party in charge, they were there to support our fighting guys.  Everyone was pulling together and no one got paid for their services. 

How I wish we could go back to those days again.  How I wish that the world could see the United States as just that-UNITED.  How I wish that people were proud when they saw the American flag.  Can our country ever go back? 

Our Attic

I am a sentimental person who has been known to keep something that was broken because a special person had given it to me.  While I realize that makes no sense to anyone else, it made sense to me.  I wish I could be more like people who get rid of something and have no second thoughts.

A few years ago, I decided to really clean out our attic.  Part of this urge was brought on by the fact that after cleaning out my parents house with my 2 siblings, Eric and I had to tackle his parents home a year later.  Pulling down the attic stairs, I took a deep breath and started going through boxes.  I threw away cards and letters from over 40 years ago.  I got rid of my prom dress from my Jr. year of high school.  I shredded tax papers from the year we got married-1979.  (I hope we don't get audited.)  T-shirts from youth sports teams were given away.  We discarded Christmas decorations from our early years of marriage.  I gave away lots of new items that we had bought to make gift baskets for charity auctions.  The 2 bathing suit cover ups that I received as high school graduation gifts were put in a donation pile.  Gifts that we had given my parents were sold in a consignment shop.  I reluctantly carried my dad's old tube case (VERY large satchel) down the stairs to the garbage after holding onto it for over 20 years.  Souvenirs from our vacations were put in the box, taken out and put back in.  Lastly, I sent an old graduation announcement to the family of a deceased classmate he had given me in 1977.

But the part of the attic that I could not attempt was from Andrew and Paul's childhood days.  Some of the items were always intended to be handed down; Cabbage Patch dolls (yes they both had one), rocking chairs, toy chests and tricycles.  Then as the 4 grandchildren started having birthdays, we decided to regift other things.  The 'Farmer Says' from Christmas 1983 was wrapped up in March.  The 31 year old Fisher Price Cottage Family was a birthday gift in May.  A small personalized coat rack was given for a birthday in 1984 and then again in 2014.  I have enjoyed seeing my grandchildren in some of the clothes that their daddies wore years ago.  The clothes were given at recent baby showers, along with pictures of their daddies in the same outfit.

With apologies to our sons and daughters-in-law, you will have to finish the attic someday.  Not soon, I hope.  But the sentimentality is hard to get past.  We kept everything and we didn't mean to.

No 'Negative' Influences

I have recently been looking through some old negatives from film that has been developed.  (For those of you who don't know what negatives are, it is from old school cameras-before digital.)  I collected these in a fireproof box in the event that our house would catch on fire and I would at least be able to reprint our priceless photos. 

I have been able to view the negative strips through a viewer that you hold up to a light.  This viewer was actually used to view the old slides that people had when they used to have slide-shows.  It is a very slow process since the strips are wider than the viewer slot and you have to keep repositioning it and turning it around. 

Some of our negatives are recent; mostly from Christmas or vacation.  The older ones are on the bottom of the box and are the smaller 110 type.  I have always kept our photos organized and in albums, most are labeled with a description and year.  But as I looked at these small pieces of my life, I was reminded of different people who have influenced me and my family.  There were day care workers and school teachers, church leaders and Scout Masters.  Friends and family members of friends who were there to offer their help.   Some of them never were given the credit they deserved for shaping the lives of so many.  Most of them would be embarrassed if you told them 'thank you' for all that they did and would insist they didn't do anything. 

I have enjoyed looking at these; yes, I do have the pictures I can look at.  But some of these have been lost to my mind until recently.  I hope over the years I have impacted someone that could say my name and think 'she was a positive influence'.

Could You Sing?

Several years ago this week, our community and surrounding areas were hit by a hurricane.  Because we live so far from the coast, no one expected as much damage as there was.  Billboards, trees, road signs, power lines and telephone lines were all down by early Friday morning.  Restoring power was more important than restoring phone service but Eric and his co-workers were suddenly scheduled 12 hours a day, 7 days a week.  Other states sent their employees to North Carolina to help get us back to normal.  Seeing everyone work together left an impression on Eric and he made a promise to himself.  If he was ever asked to go out of town to work in an emergency, he would go. 

One September 10 years later, a hurricane hit Eastern NC.  Unlike other times where the wind had  been responsible for all of the damage, this particular storm dumped rain on the town.  A lot of rain in a short amount of time.  The town was devastated by the flood waters.  Eric signed up to go and was soon in a convoy headed East.  After arriving in the town the guys were given their assignments and they drove to one neighborhood.

As far as they could see, miscellaneous items were piled by the side of the road.  Clothing, furniture, bedding, all things that had been ruined by the storm.  Sitting in his rumbling bucket truck, with the radio playing, Eric watched as an elderly gentleman made several trips back and forth from his house to the pile.   Only after he had shut off his truck did he realize the man was singing.  As Eric rolled the window down and listened, the still air was broken by the words, "Oh, how I love Jesus".  Carrying out what appeared to be an accumulation of his lifetime, the elderly gentleman still had a reason to sing.  Losing everything and watching helplessly as the water destroyed what he had worked for, and yet he was still able to sing.

Could you?

Milk Money

School is back in full swing now and the ads for 'Back to School' supplies are no longer on the front pages of the sales circulars.  It was always exciting to get the few new things that I needed for the upcoming school year; a pack of pencils, a pack of notebook paper and usually a new lunchbox.  I enjoyed packing my lunch everyday when I was in grade school.

At our elementary school we had a milk break early in the morning.  You could buy a carton of milk to drink with whatever snack you had brought from home.  Milk was 4 cents when I was in the lower grades of school.  My parents had a cup and saucer sitting on a desk where they put their spare pennies each night.  Every morning before school, I would get the pennies out for my milk money.  It's funny how you can remember certain things about your childhood.

When my mother passed away and we were cleaning out my parent's house, the cup and saucer were right where they had always been-sitting on the desk in the bedroom.  I brought home the 2 items that had no value other than sentimental. 

We made a promise to our grandchildren that they would always have 'Book Fair' money.  If it were possible, we would give each of them something to keep their 'Milk Money' in.   A small cup but overflowing with love.