My Parents Through the Eyes Of My Childhood
My dad and mom had met when my dad was fifteen, his father had moved into the house next door to my mother’s family. He would come over and pluck chickens just to be near my mom, if you have ever plucked chickens then you would know that was true love. I’ve plucked my share of chickens in my lifetime and trust me I would have never done that for any man I have ever met. Even with taking a shower you never get the stink of burnt pinfeathers out of your pores. Although my mother had not fallen in love with my father instantly, she grew to love him over the years they worked along side each other. They married against my granddad’s wishes in May before my mom turned eighteen in August. My grandmother gave her consent and let them marry before my dad took off to join the Korean War.
My father’s dad had passed on long before I was born, and his mother lived in Texas. We didn’t see her much, she moved around a lot, and Grandma Lottie was not a very maternal kind of person so we would lose tack of where she was from time to time. The last time I had seen my grandmother was at four years of age, we’d spent the afternoon with her. Soon after that she had moved down by Corpus Christie, and forgot to leave a forwarding address. Dad and mom explained she did that a lot. It was too trivial of a thing for her to remember. So I didn’t really remember my other grandmother and never met my dad’s father.
So although my grandparents who lived across the street from us was my father’s in-laws he never made that distinction to us children, he loved them and treated them like they was his own parents. If they needed help he was there. So much so that when I was asked in school where my mother’s parents lived I said across the street, they asked where my father’s parents lived I said across the street. One of the kids said, Oh they live in houses next door to each other. No they live in the same house, I explained. So your mom and dad are brother and sister. In my six-year-old little mind, I said I guess so. I had never really thought about any of this, it was just the way it was. I had never realized there was suppose to be two sets of grandparents.
My father worked long hours and came home to be with his family and spend his time with all of us with a smile and a caring hand. They remodeled our two-bedroom home into a three-bedroom home with a beautiful living room that was big enough to set up a ping-pong table and still have furniture around to sit down on. We spent our nights sitting around the fireplace playing board games and putting puzzles together. My mom had lived through a bus accident, which had been caused by a drunk driver, so my dad, sister and I pitched in to help more around the house since she had to stay in bed in traction. My grandparents helped out during the days, babysitting us children, making meals and taking care of mom as well as Jan and I. When daddy would get home they would go back to their home, and daddy would take over our care.
After my grandfather passed on, my grandmother came to live with us at least part time she still had her home across the street where she could go anytime she wanted. She was a wonderful addition to our family. Through these years I spent a wonderful childhood. Like everyone else we laughed, we cried, we fought, and we made up. We enjoyed wonderful vacations together, we worked together, and we played together. I love my family dearly, the world was great and our family was wonderful.
