Stories

 I feel like I am the keeper of stories.

When I was little, my Mom would tell me stories of her childhood. She grew up in the countryside, in a time and place that no longer exists. She was the youngest of 8 children, 6 boys and 2 girls. Her mother died when she was only 6 years old, so she was raised by her older sister.

I loved listening to these stories. I don't know how true they are or how exaggerated they are. 

One story that comes to mind is about jam. Mom was born in 1939, just as World War 2 was starting. Rationing started in 1940; Mom said that because my Grandfather worked on a farm, he could get some food from there, things like vegetables or eggs. But there was a lot of stuff that they just couldn't get; one was jam; sugar was rationed. The story Mom told me was that one day the kids at school were given a jar of jam each to take home for their family to share. My Mom and the brother just older than her decided that since there were 4 kids from their family getting the jam, their Dad wouldn't miss their jars. After school, they snuck off into one of the fields and ate their jars of jam. They went home, and their Dad asked where their jam was. Mom's brother said that because there were four kids from one family, only two got the jam. Their Dad just stared at them, then said, "So what is that red, sticky stuff around your mouth?" They had eaten all the jam but forgot to wash their faces after! The punishment was that they couldn't have any of the jam that the others had bought home! Plus, Mom got sick from eating so much sugar in one go!

She had lots of stories like that. Just silly things that she did as a kid. Stories of hard times but fun times. As I got older, she would tell me of how hard it was living in the countryside, that walking to town would take about 45 minutes, there were no buses at that time. That everyday chores took longer because there were no modern conveniences.  These were never told to elicit sympathy but more to show how lives and living situations change over time. 

I like family stories; I loved listening to my Mom and trying to imagine her life and that of her brothers and sister.

I feel that everyone has stories to tell, that these stories are part of our family history and should be preserved for future generations. I've told my kids most of the stories from my Mom. For me, that is important; they didn't have a lot of time with her. 

I think I might take time to write these stories down and make a little book for my kids. Not just Mom's stories but mine as well.

The end of the month will be 22 years since Mom passed away. I still want to call her and tell her about my kids and what they are doing!

Just a few photos of Mom.

With Alan

She thought there was no film!

At her job, cleaning.

The photos are scanned; I have an app, but I'm not very good at using it!