She Had Opinions But Not Facts

 Once again she found herself in her mother's empty house. Empty of her mother. Her mother was settled in the nursing home about eight hours away. Her mother's house was full of memories, however. Full in the respect of her cupboards full of antique dishes that had been passed down from her mother and grandmother, glass shelves that her father had made for her mother's bell collection, and boxes of letters, pictures, and even a satin duvet that her Uncle LaVerne had given her grandmother. It had never been used. She smiled as she unboxed it, lifted the soft tissue paper and thought what a waste. It had silently been labeled "useless" because it was apricot in color and slippery and was not a full size. It had been a lovely gift, but hidden away in a box in a dark closet for oh so many years. As she was going through a cardboard box she found a little black book. "What is this, I wonder?" She chuckled and said, "I had one of these. It's an autograph book."

"Oh my, Mom. These are what some would call corny. 'Yours til the kitchen sinks'? Now that's corny!"

As she leafed through the old and yellow pages  from 1927-1929 she saw autographs from relatives and even one autograph that referred to my mother as a poor cook! The majority of them spoke of her new career as a teacher and how smart she was. One autograph remarked how you could argue with the teacher and still get good grades. Really? You taught me never to talk back to an adult. Little did they know you never wanted to teach. Oh here's one. I think they knew you were wanting to get married to dad and not teach. It's really corny; 'In the fruitcake of matrimony regard me as the nuts'. Mercy your friends were the king and queen of puns! Such fun friends you had.

As she started reading some of the letters addressed to her mother the tears trickled down her cheeks. It was during the Great Depression and the letters were from her dad. "Oh my goodness. I had no idea. He worked in the fields picking 70-80 bushels of corn a day by hand, did barn and animal chores morning and night then to add to his money he sold Christmas cards door to door. 

She had never ever heard that story before. She thought she paid about four dollars for a box of Christmas cards. With inflation that would have cost folks now over sixty dollars for a box of cards. Hmm. I have a feeling you didn't do so well doing that, Dad. I have a feeling people sent penny post cards for the most part in those days to wish their friends and family Merry Christmas. 

One letter said that he had a little over thirteen dollars, but needed a blanket and some boots. That left him only a little over nine dollars. He was so worried that he wasn't going to earn enough money for them to get married. Then the next letter said he went to a movie with his brother. Hmm, I doubt if Mom really wanted to hear that one, Dad." She opened one up that said, My dearest Zoe. Well, I never heard you call her anything but Mommie, Cookie, or Gladys. Zoe was her middle name and her very best friends called her Zoe or Zoda, but never her dad. The letters she read had many threads. Threads of loneliness, hopelessness, but also fear. Fear that he wouldn't be able to support her and a family, but most of all fear of her father, G.D. Banister, my grandfather, son of G.W. Banister. Both of those men were so stern, I never saw my grandfather smile, nor a twinkle in his eye. Dad knew the reputation of both of your grandfathers, Mom. I would be scared to death too. But he won the prize above all odds. He was so in love with you until the day he went to live with the angels. This wedding picture is a prize with a story of course.

He did eventually win a job of being a farm hand for your parents. I have no idea how he wangled that one.  I think from the sound of dad's letters your brother Nathan also had a wanderlust personality like his namesake grandfather and had gone off to sow his oats out west. That left grandpa short handed on the farm. Was it too show just how angry your parents were that they did not attend your wedding? You said that their excuse was that their baby chicks just happened to be hatching that day and couldn't be left. You were married in hundred degree weather in August. I think those chicks were just a very convenient excuse. Of course, that's just my opinion. Interestingly enough your parents had a huge wedding being the son and daughter of the first settlers of Cherokee, Iowa. With hand sewn seed pearls on the beautiful dress many people attending, loads of food and games during the day; the whole ball of wax. Not fair, Mom. You were their only daughter after all.  Yes, see here is their wedding picture taken by a photographer, not a snap shot. She could almost feel the censure of her mother as she was thinking the negative thoughts of her grandparents. She didn't know the whole story and never would. She did know that her grandmother loved her dad. Oh the good times she could remember about them. "Okay enough, girl. What's done is done. You need to get busy."

She had pretty much gone through the boxes of keepsakes of her mother's and put them to one side to take home with her.  There was so much to do. She had throw away piles, keep piles and sell piles. Piles to take home and piles to give to relatives and a stack of things to take to her mother. Of course, the house had to be sold, her bills paid etc. She found a key to her mom's safety deposit box that needed to be tended to.  She had three weeks to get everything done. But she had a plan.

 She had often cleaned her mother's cupboards for her over her latter years, but she would later find something in one of them that gave her new insight into her mother's life.

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I did find penny post cards in a box of stationary of mom's as well as one and three cent stamps, ration stamps from WWII and so many other little keepsakes. I did use a computer picture for one of the photos of the postcard because I'm not home to take pictures of them. However one of them is from my family. What is interesting is that the postcard remained one penny for many years....One to my great grandfather in 1914 the other in the 30's same price. When I did open her box of stationary it smelled of roses just the same as the letters she had sent me throughout the years. A quick side note I found so many rolls of toilet paper I was shocked. That was something that people that lived through the Depression did hoard. She would have been all set during our current pandemic.