Dreams

Every so often I'll have a dream in which my mother appears. I think of it in this way because she's never the main character of my dreams but she usually makes a very definite appearance. Sometimes she's with other members of my family; sometimes she appears among people I know but whom she never met. These dreams are always pleasant, and I usually wake feeling not exactly happy, but thankful. I was young when she died, and I now realize that she was also young. She died at the same age that I am now.

I very seldom talk about my mother's death, but I think about her life a lot. I wonder about many things that I never thought to ask her when we were together. My father was her second husband and I've never really been sure if she loved him as much as she did her first husband. She used to tell me that she married him because he was a good man and she knew he would treat her and her children well. And then, as the years went by, she realized she loved him. I've always wondered if she was telling me the truth or if she suddenly remembered she was talking to his daughter and included the "love" part to make me feel better.  I think the reason I never asked her about this was because I was afraid to find out the truth.

Her death changed much about my life. I was married at the time with a young child. I was very close to my mother and visited her several times a week. Her house was on my way to work and I would stop in to spend a few minutes with her. Sometimes we had a friendly conversation, and other times she would say something that irritated me and I would lash out at her. But we always ended on a happy note, mainly because she was usually willing to overlook my anger...usually, but not always. There were times when our goodbyes were strained when we parted. I never worried about this because I knew her love for me was real, and more importantly, she understood me.

When my daughter was born, my husband and I were staying with my parents while we built our house, which we moved into when she was two months old. Just before her first birthday, she burned her hand on our wood stove, and I think that started me thinking that I wanted to stay home and care for her. So almost a year after we moved into our new home, I resigned my position. It was a difficult decision to make because I had always worked, even while in school, but my daughter showed me that she was more important to me than any of these other things.

My mother and father were always available whenever I needed them and they became very close to their granddaughter. We visited often and even stayed with them again when we were building another house. They went to Disney World with us one year, and another year took their granddaughter on a trip to visit my older sister and her family. This closeness continued until my mother's death. My daughter was so young at the time that she really didn't understand what death meant, and she took my mother's death very hard. It wasn't until a few years later, and after she had gotten to know her other grandmother better, that she was able to let go of her grief.

Every so often I will have a dream in which my mother and daughter appear, and this makes me very happy.

Summer Days

My grandson has finished his last week at the local Parks & Rec summer camp. It was an amazing time and he loved every minute. He's such a wonderful boy and deserved to have a great summer.

It brought back memories of my summer vacations. In those days most of us made our own fun. I knew of one or two kids who went away to camp but otherwise we all stayed in town. Most summers were spent with my family and I lost touch with my school friends. My sisters, younger brother and I played games, sometimes alone and sometimes with a few of the neighbor kids; roamed the neighborhood exploring; or traveled uptown to the library. The days seemed to stretch on forever but we were hardly ever bored and enjoyed our vacation immensely.

I don't remember much about what my older brother and sister were doing. My sister spent one or two summers working at the local sardine cannery and my brother was probably out with his friends. We never saw them much because when they were home, they were on the phone or watching TV. My sister was involved with the church even then and was probably making plans for her religious future. I really don't remenber much of what my brother did except for one time when he frightened us almost to death. We were walking uptown with him and he decided to show off by walking along on the top of the railing of the bridge that we used to cross the river. This river was shallow at that point and filled with big boulders. If he had fallen, he probably would have been killed.

I loved summer until the last few weeks when I would start missing school. Reading and playing with anyone who was available kept me entertained. Our games were simple. One game we played after a long day of running around was to sit on the edge of our front lawn and count the cars that went by. We lived on a State road but when I was young the cars were few. Once in awhile my older brother joined us and amazed me by being able to name the make and model of each car we saw. Another time we heard about a local farm that was hiring kids to pick vegetables, and my mother said we could go. I don't remember what we picked but I do remember that we were paid by the pound, and we were all proud of ourselves for earning some spending money.

My grandson has a much different life now but he enjoys summer in the same way. Days of nothing to do but have fun is the best memory he can have.