by 50's Child
Family history and lessons learned growing up, the people who influenced my life.
|Times were hard, but getting better when I was born back in the mid 40s'.|
|After WWII people were starting to get back on their feet, our soldiers were coming home, and the baby boom began.
Most people born during this time came to be called "baby Boomers" and I am so proud I grew up in those wonderful years.
My dad worked in construction and helped build most of the major highways in several central states.
We traveled from job to job and got to see things that we would have not otherwise been able to see,
Times were hard and we didn't go on vacations, but I don't think I knew enough to even miss this thing called vacation.
By the time I was old enough to start school, my family had settled down in Dallas. Unlike my brother, who went to
several schools before graduating in Dallas, I got to stay in one area and make friends.
I loved school and did well when I put my mind to it. By this time it was the 50s' and life was good.
If I could go back in time I would take the 50s' for sure. There was not a better time to be a kid growing up.
Summertime was my favorite season and I didn't have a care in the world.
Kids played outside in the hot sun, as we didn't have air conditioning, just some fans or water coolers.
We rode our bikes, skated on the side walks, and chased the ice cream truck.
The only time we came inside was for lunch or to play a game long enough to cool off.
T.V.s' were black and white only and not much to watch if you were a kid.
I remember the lady next door always watched her soaps or an old movie.
Everyone knew when to come in for dinner, or as we called it, supper.
After the evening meal and cleaning up the kitchen most everyone would sit out in their yards.
This was the time to visit with your neighbors and see what your kids were doing.
When it got dark we all knew it was time to get ready for bed. Another day gone by, but time didn't matter
because we were kids with no conception of time, just living in the moment.
Summertime wasn't all fun and play, but times were simple and people enjoyed working hard,
and at the end of the day, it was all about family time.
Most women stayed home and were full time mothers, but through most of my school years, my mother worked to help with
the bills. Back then most people didn't work weekends, especially Sundays. Everything was closed on Sundays
and we went to church and enjoyed a special family meal after church.
Sundays were spent visiting relatives or having them over for dinner.
This was not only family time, but part of having an enjoyable day and then getting ready for work and
school at the end of the day.
Even though my mother went to work each day, she still got up early to prepare a big breakfast every morning.
Everything was made from scratch, no frozen stuff, but just good old country cooking.
Mother believed in a healthy meal before sending me off to school. She made sure I had money for a hot
lunch each and every day. Then when we all came home, she cooked another meal. I never saw my mother take much
time for herself, so I didn't mind helping out, as all the girls did back then.
She never demanded or asked much of me, but because of the way I was raised and I loved her, I wanted to work right by her
side most of the time.
From the time I was big enough to stand up in a chair, I was washing dishes and learning how to cook.
We didn't have a dish washer so everything was done by hand. No microwaves or fast food for our family.
As I got older, I helped out with the meals and I truly enjoyed cooking and I was a pretty good cook for a kid.
Looking back on these times I realize that I was much older and more mature than most of my friends my age.
My mother was my best friend and a teacher of life. Everything I know, I owe most of it to my mother
and my dad for teaching me about cars and the common sense they both taught me.
Until I was grown and had a family of my own I never understood how hard my mother worked to care for our family.
I regret that I never told her how much I appreciated everything she did for me, and now she is gone.
|Who says you can't have nature in your backyard if you live in the city or suburbs? A few years ago we had a pair of wild ducks land in our backyard. They were mates and since we had a lot of flowers and shade, we figured they enjoyed it as much as we did. We put out feed for them and just like clock work, they came for a visit every evening. We took pictures and enjoyed sitting and watching them eat and quack to each other. One day a third male came with them, but he was no friend. The two males looked like they might fight, and the new male was much bigger and tried to bite the first male. My husband came to the rescue and ran the third duck off. What a funny site to see, but the pair seemed to appreciate our help and food. These two came to visit us every day and then when the weather turned cold, they stopped.
We didn't see them the next spring or the next, but much to my surprise, they came back this spring. Since we have dogs, they now land in our front yard and of course we feed them. I'm not sure it's the same couple, but they aren't afraid of us and wait for the food to be thrown to them.
This is now a part of my morning coffee time and feeding the ducks brings a new calmness to my day. I feel joy and appreciation for our new "pets". Nature is a wonderful thing and truly a gift from God.
|A very warm review of one of my essays made me think of the wonderful memories of my childhood years. I had written about my mother, all of the things she taught me, and I have carried that time and experience with me through the years. Growing up, I learned how to crochet, type, cook, iron, make change from a cash register, fit and sell shoes, studied nursing and real estate. You see, everything my mother studied or wanted to learn, I studied with her. I feel that this was the greatest foundation for my life long lessons. I could write a book about my mother, which I plan to do, but I need to cover the lessons I learned from my dad.
He was a self made man, not book smart, but common sense smart. Dad could fix anything, and back then he took care of the repairs on our cars and the house and yard. Years ago, most people didn't have the money to pay someone to repair cars, etc. I watched dad take apart engines and put them back together again.
I knew the engine and the parts, along with changing tires and the oil. Dad never wanted me to be stuck on the side of the road, so I was grateful I learned a thing or two about cars. I was blonde, but not a dumb blonde. All of these lessons paid off and have helped me make it through my life. I was so blessed to parents such as mine.
|Dreams are strange signals from our brains, sometimes so realistic that we feel like Alice in Wonderland. I have had such dreams which were so enjoyable I didn't want to wake up. If I did wake up, I wanted to go back to sleep and see how my dream would end. I used to think my dreams were just left over worries from the day, but they were much better and way more exciting than anything that happened during the day. I have dreamed of people from the past I have known or loved, and even some that were into the future. Some dreams are like a preview of a story I should write about, some have come true later in time, much like a prediction or message from my sleep mode. One such dream has stayed with me for many years, as the message was sad and did come true a few days later.
When my mother was in the hospital with cancer and dying, these images came to me in a dream.
My dream put me as the person in the hospital, and my mother and grandmother came to see me at the hospital. They both stood by my bed and told me
everything would be alright. They were wearing a beautiful pink flowing gown, and there was light all around them. I woke up crying, for it was so sad for me to
see them together, dressed in pink. I later realized why I had that dream. I remembered my grandmother had been buried in a pink dress.
When my mother was buried, she was wearing a silk flowing pink dress. I believe that my dream was letting me know that my mother would be with her
mother and they were both with God.
I've had dreams warning me of things that have happened later, and I feel that I have a sixth sense about the people around me. My oldest daughter also has
some of these same experiences, as did my mother. I think they are more than just a woman's intuition and it is God's way of sending us messages, maybe from
the ones we love and have lost.
|A few weeks ago we had to put down one of our beloved dogs. Rascal was his name and he did live up to that name. It broke my heart and I miss him still, but that is the price you pay when you give your love and then it is taken away. My husband missed the times they played, but not the mood swings or biting, which I don't think Rascal could control. After we both had stiches in our hands in the emergency room, our vet said it was best for all of us to have him put down. I cried like so many times before when it was said that he might be dangerous, but just couldn't let him go. Now we must move on with living.
We have a beagle named Daisy and she was depressed and missed Rascal as much as we did, so my husband went and rescued an eight month old beagle/boxer mix from the shelter. She is a beautiful girl and has become good friends with Daisy. She is so loving that it is hard to not love her back. She has filled the empty place, not only in our hearts, but Daisy's as well. So life goes on with new pets and the training, and loving again.
|The holidays have come and gone, but this will be one for my heart to remember for a long time. I spent Christmas Eve morning in the emergency room at our near by hospital. One of my dogs, who I think is bipolar, got into bed with me and my husband during the night. He is the reason for that old saying, "let sleeping dogs lie" so when my husband bumped him with his hand, the dog went crazy, biting. Now this is a small dog, part Jack Russell Terrier mix, but has a big bite.
When I heard my husband yell, I turned over and grabbed his collar and he bite my hand, as well as my husbands hand. My husband has other health issues, so we left for the hospital, both of us with our hands wrapped in towels and hurting. My husbands' injury was less, requiring only two stiches, but mine was bad.
I got twenty stiches with a suggestion to see a hand surgeon.
This dog, his name was Rascal, has been in our family for about four years, but has a history of biting us, but never this bad. We thought we had his problem figured out, but this was the worst. Since I didn't see a doctor for the previous bites, he didn't have to be observed, but this time it would be for ten days.
After talking with our VET, the decision was made to have him put down. Our vet said no dog should attack us in our sleep, and after shedding many tears, I had to let him go. In all of my years of owning all kinds of animals, I've never had one to bite me or have to be put down. I truly believe he was bipolar and had aggression problems, also. Rascal was sweet one minute and mean the next. He was a very smart dog, and loved playing ball and doing tricks, but could not be trusted when sleeping, eating, or protecting his toys. We have a beagle who gave him lot's of space and he never bothered her.
With family and children coming over from time to time, we just couldn't take a chance of Rascal biting them.
My heart is still sad, and my hand is slowly healing, and I still love and miss my Rascal. After all, he was just a dog who offered unconditional love when not biting. I will keep him in my heart and move forward to another day.