Being the only person on the trail today all I could hear was the crunching of leaves beneath my feet and the sound of the wind rushing through the trees. The solitude was refreshing as I wandered and let my mind go. I thought of all the wonderful times my sisters and I had growing up in the great outdoors. I love the fact that my dad was such an adventurer. The “dead end” sign was an invitation for him to explore. Almost every weekend was spent in a creek, stream, trail, lake, ocean or the mountain. He loved looking for arrowheads, rocks, digging for clams and exploring the ice caves of Mt. Rainier. Remembering those times makes me miss my dad – it will be 42 years in December since he passed.
But, as I remember those times, another Hero emerges – my mom. You see, my mom was the one that enabled us all those grand adventures. She was the one that got us ready, packed the lunches, dealt with the "she's touching me" fights in the backseat of the car (you know the ones....If you don't stop dad will pull over and then you will be sorry!) She then had the difficult task of cleaning us up afterward. The pictures are a perfect example of us kids getting absolutely filthy! Not sure how she ever got the dirt out of our clothes!!
When I looked closer at the photos, those are actually two different dirt hills a few years apart! I can tell since I'm the one in red pants eating dirt in the first picture and the furthest left in the second picture where I actually have a full head of hair!
My mom was an American housewife of the fifties and sixties. The silent one who cooked, cleaned and took care of the kids while dad was at work. She also took to sewing, often making us matching outfits. I knew that sewing was not her favorite thing as you often heard loud “dag nab it or !!*$@%!#* ” and the sound of things being thrown from the sewing area (sorry mom –the truth is out!) But when you are on a shoestring budget, it had to be done.
I’m lucky, my mom is still with us - she turns 94 in a few weeks. We have shared many adventures through the years. She moved to Hawaii with me after my dad passed, and pretty much became everyone’s mom for the year while she got over her grief. I remember Thanksgiving that year in Hawaii. I had to work that day, but my mom helped my housemates prepare Thanksgiving dinner for us. It was a full house, loud, boisterous and full of love from a ragtag group of friends. As it was 1979, I think we predate the advent of “Friendsgiving” by many years!
I’ve had the opportunity to listen to stories from my mom, so many rich and heartbreaking stories. She grew up as a young child during the Great Depression. Her family was lucky that her father worked at a flour mill and they didn’t go hungry, but others were not so lucky. Her family would often give bread to families in need. She was in high school during World War II and remembers her Japanese friends not showing up for school one day, as they were sent to internment camps. There were only a few boys at high school, as the healthy ones were sent to war – including my father. Later, after my mom and dad were married, my dad was stationed on a ship during the South Korean War when my older sister was born. I can’t image starting a family at such a tumultuous time in history, and by yourself.
My mom also has great stories of growing up in Tacoma, Washington with roots deep enough to have our family part of the Pioneer Association. She had great friends in high school that have remained friends up until this past year when the last of them passed. This has been heartbreaking for her, as the group would get together frequently for lunch, and have a Christmas party every year. Her high school friends Duane and Audrey were like second parents to me and we always enjoyed visiting them out on their waterfront cabin in the summertime.
My mom is a great explorer in her own right. She used to drive from Washington to Southern California to see my sister and her hubby – by herself! She loved a road trip! She also traveled with friends to various places in the U.S., went on numerous cruises and had the opportunity to see her family’s native land in Ireland. I am fortunate that she was there after the birth of both my children. Walking with Steve and I through the streets of Pomona at midnight before Michael was born. Now that’s a memory not easily forgotten! She had a great time visiting us in Georgia seeing all the Civil War sites, and here in Ohio adventuring with me out in the woods. And, I am so glad that she has had the opportunity to see my kids grow up to become the awesome human beings that they are today.
So, my dear friends my words of wisdom to you is to appreciate your elders. Listen to their stories as there is a wealth of knowledge they can impart. Appreciate all that they have done in your life. Yeah, mother and daughter relationships can be as tumultuous as father son relationships – but find that common ground and take the time to listen. They hold in their memories unique bits of history we have never experienced. And if we don't listen now, they could easily be forgotten.
You will be amazed at what you can learn. Case in point, a few years ago we were visiting a museum and mom goes – hey that is the kind of motorcycle I rode – say what!!! Yep, that's my mom - my Hero!
Great story. Thanks for sharing.