Mother’s Untold Stories.

My mom was born in 1917, and my dad in 1908. Mom was the second-oldest of nine children, seven of whom survived childhood. She dropped out of school in the ninth grade to help take care of her five younger sisters and brothers. Mom and Dad lived through tough times. They were married in 1934 when Mom was just seventeen and Dad would soon be twenty-six. They had both lived through World War I, and the Great Depression was still ongoing when they got married. My brother was born in 1936, shortly before my mom’s nineteenth birthday. My older sister was born in December 1940, and the country was still working its way out of the depression, so things were still difficult. The bombing of Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, would prompt the United States to enter the war against Japan and Germany.

I was born in 1943, and my younger sister was born in 1945, both while the United States was still fighting in World War II. The Korean War was fought from 1950 to 1953, with the United States providing about 90% of the military personnel for South Korea. WWII and the Korean War required a major buildup of American manufacturing for war materials and created thousands of new jobs. Because a substantial number of men served in the military, women assumed many positions in the workforce during that period.

I can get this information from historical documents, plus what I learned in school. When I was growing up, if I complained about things being too difficult, my mom would reply, “You don’t know what difficult is, quit complaining!” Normally, the tone told me to abandon that approach and do what I was told.

At this point in my life, I wish my mom had shared more about what it was like during her early years. Living through those difficult years while taking care of a family. I heard bits and pieces from comments made at various times by them or relatives; however, I think I would appreciate more how strong my mom was, to do what she had to do during my early years. My children and grandchildren do not care much about hearing how it was during my early years, but I know it was much more difficult for my parents.

I know my mom’s life is worthy of a book that I would love to write and share, but I only know what I know. What I do not know are the challenges she faced as a small child and the years leading up to my oldest memories. Did she have any happy memories as a child, and what were they? Did she really understand what was going on in the world that caused things to be so bad? What was it like as a teenager then, and what was school like? Was it your idea to quit school and take care of your brothers and sisters?

I would love to hear about her meeting Dad and what led her to marry him while she was only seventeen. Where did they live, and how did they pay for their needs? I heard that part of the time they were sharecroppers and about picking cotton until her hands were bleeding, with a crying child nearby. With so many problems, depression had to be a way of life. Were there periods when conditions were better, when you had feelings of excitement? Did the birth of a new child provide excitement or add to existing concerns about how to make ends meet?

In other articles, I have written about the various jobs she had from the 1950s to her final retirement and her many trips after Dad’s passing. I have talked about new hobbies and activities she got involved with, always willing to try something new at the age of sixty-one. She lived for an additional 25 years, the majority of which were marked by a high level of activity.  Washing her car, mowing her grass, cleaning her house, learning to play piano, taking art classes, bowling league, and square-dancing.

I expect everyone to ask why I do not know these things about my mother. My parents did not talk about the past, and I never tried to ask these questions. Once they are gone, the book is closed. As a child or teenager, the last thing I wanted to hear was how bad my parents had it when they were my age. At this age, I think the information would help me understand better why and how they responded to the events in my life. I wish I knew enough to write, “the rest of the story.”

We buy books so we can read about heroes and heroic events, and at the same time, may know only a little about things our parents dealt with in everyday life. A headstone in the cemetery is a short summary of a person’s life. I wish I could know the things that are in those untold stories.