Chapter 1: Introduction
There she sits in her favorite rocker, her hair long turned to white, knitting a sweater
she started last week. Occasionally her head nods. It's such a bother.
She had gone this morning to visit a friend, a sister almost, in a nursing home.
Her friend had fallen on a step. Broke a bone. So they popped her into a nursing
home. Now they're fixing the step. She remembers what her mother always said,
"There's no use fixing the barn door after the.... ."
She really should finish the sweater she started last week. But things aren't as easy as they once were. She used to whip out most anything for her kiddies. Made their clothes out of cast-off clothing of other people. Never used a pattern.
Never needed one. She never wanted her children to look like some of those other 'poor kids' whose clothes didn't fit. Her kids always looked so nice. Such good kids. Well mannered and smart. So smart. Never could figure how she could have such smart ones. She was blessed, she said. It's a mother's right to brag about her kids, you know.
A mother always
likes to look back -- a little laughing here, a little crying there. One always
likes to reminisce from time to time. After all, tomorrow is her birthday.
Seventy-nine years she has lived. Tomorrow it will be eighty. One brother and
three sisters have gone before. Her mother was ninety-one, and her father
eighty-one when they left this earth. Now she is almost as old as her father
when he left. Doesn't seem that long. Time does fly. A lot of water has run
under the bridge. Much happiness. Not too much sadness. For this she is
grateful.
Keep a positive attitude her mother always said. This advice was helpful on more than one occasion in her life. She had three children, five grandchildren, and two great grandchildren. She wonders what the world will bring them. The world is in such bad shape. But then she remembers her mother saying the same thing. Maybe it isn't so bad. She hopes not. She wonders if children today are too interested in material things. She worries that the family isn't as close as it was when she was a girl. It's nice to sit back in your rocking chair and reminisce.
So, here I sit in my rocker, knitting a sweater for an old friend, and recalling my childhood days near a small Iowa town called Curlew. That's in Northwest Iowa. Nothing special mind you. Just the typical small Iowa town and a typical childhood. You've probably had one too. But would you like to hear some of mine ? Just a little. Oh, good, just pour yourself some coffee and sit back. You don't mind if I keep on knitting while I talk, do you ? Well good, it all began in the year ...
Continue to Chapter 2: My First Home