My Mom almost starved when she was a kid.
Born just before the Great Depression, she lived on a farm in North Dakota. Her dad died when he was 40, leaving my grandma with eight kids to raise and a farm to manage. But the drought was lengthening, and the Dust Bowl drying, and Mom remembers looking up from feeding the chickens (she was the second-youngest) to see a wall of topsoil rolling toward their farm like a giant dirt tsunami from the southeast. The ground was so dry it cracked into rectangles. The kids’ clothing was stitched from flour sacks, and the only thing that kept them from starving was St. Elizabeth’s Catholic Church. The church provided staples, including raisins (Mom can’t eat them now. She gets nauseous at the sight of them.) Eventually Grandma sold their starving cattle and moved the family to town. In the house they rented, Mom remembers the kids – all of whom were pretty young – sleeping crosswise on the beds, with their feet propped on chairs. That way you could stack about four kids to a bed. Life was hard.
So she can be forgiven these days for encouraging you to eat stuff out of the back of the fridge by saying, “If you don’t, it’s going to spoil!” I laugh and say, Mom, what a sales pitch! And then she realizes what she has just said and smiles. You have to love that little face, don’t you?
Lynne, this is one more example of how we must have been separated at birth! My mom, too, survived the Depression, and still to this day, she can’t stand the thought of tossing away food (whether anybody is going to eat it or not!). It must have been a truly awful time to be a kid. We’re so blessed not to have had to endure that — pray we never will!
Sherrie, you said, “to some degree we inherit it all.” Truer words were never spoken. It took me until about age 40 to finally accept that I am not a garbage disposer! I.e. that I can throw away food when I’m full, or when it’s about spoiled and I don’t feel like eating it. Thanks for stopping by.
My mom went through similar adversity and then some— still suffers from it psychologically. To some degree we inherit it all.
I love my work as I see it as part of the happier side of life (or at least it’s meant to be)…
Best,
Sherrie (www.sherriemathieson.com)
Indeed! :~)
Man, she’s a survivor. Makes you appreciate what you do have…change the you to we and me.
Thoughtful post.
Great story, Lynne. It’s amazing what people endured back in those days. My mom’s father died when she was 15 and she had to quit school and help out on the farm. Tough, tough life.
of course, Lynne! I think you (and your mom!) are fantastic!
I love this story — I had no idea about your mom’s background. I can only imagine how hard that would have been. It’s funny, when I think things are going terribly awry, I always remind myself that so far we have food in the refrigerator. Thank you for sharing, Lynne. Wonderful as always.
Aww, thanks, Rebecca. Yep, Mom’s an inspiration. I’m still learning from her. Thanks for stopping by!