Mother and Me, Age 6 — October Memoir Challenge
For the second week of the October Memoir and Backstory Challenge, the theme is Relationships. I’m going to do something that I thought of at the end of the challenge last year — explore how my life compared with my mother’s life at three different ages to see what I can learn about us.
On my mother’s 6th birthday, the doctor was called to see her at home, as they did in those days. He declared her so ill that she needed to go to the hospital immediately. Her diagnosis was rheumatic fever. She was hospitalized for more than a month. At one point, she received blood from her sister Lloyd.
My mother made some autobiographical notes and this is what she said about one treatment she received in the hospital:
A needle was inserted into my chest to withdraw fluid. I screamed. The doctor said I couldn’t feel it. I suppose I was numbed in some way because I don’t remember any pain. I just remember the sensation and the slurping sound of fluid being withdrawn from my chest cavity. I was in a Catholic hospital and the attending Sister (nurse) said, “Doctor, you’ll kill her if you do that.” The doctor said, “Yes, but she’ll die if I don’t.”
The year was 1943. There were blackouts at the hospital, I suppose because of the war although central Indiana would surely be far from any real threat. My mother remembered being terrified when all the lights went out.
At home, there was a long convalescence. She remembered making colored paper chains, listening to radio soaps, and pasting pretty things in a scrapbook. She rang a bell when she needed her mother’s attention. But, mostly, she was bored and lonely. She was the youngest of ten children, four years younger than the next nearest in age. Her oldest siblings were married, some with children of their own. The ones closer in age were at school all day and helped with endless farm chores at home.
My life was much better at age 6. Health is a blessing, isn’t it?
There was a big change in my life at that age, however. A couple of months after I started first grade in Salt Lake City, Utah, we moved to Louisiana, Missouri where I had to start a new school. I don’t remember this being hugely traumatic. I must have been a little scared, unless I was more extroverted at that age than later, but mostly I was excited. Mother would have encouraged that attitude. Compared to the boredom of a sick bed, I was pretty lucky to get to move half-way across the country and experience a new place at that age.
The first three weeks, especially, were a grand adventure. We lived in River’s Edge Motel while the house was being fixed up for us to move in. The room had a view of the Mississippi and, all night long, we heard trains and barge horns — an early introduction to the rhythm of a river town.
We tried out every restaurant in town since our room didn’t have a kitchen. I don’t remember this, but I think the story was that no restaurants were open on Thanksgiving so our meal came from the vending machines at the plant where my dad worked. Even that would have been exciting at age 6!
What do you remember about age 6? What do you know of your parents’ lives at that age?
What a great post. I love the photos of you and your family. While I do remember my early childhood I cannot say I remember much about my 6th year-except I had two full piece leotards, bodice and leotard I would wear with a skirt. I loved them in the winter because it was one piece-and so cozy-but it must have been cold at bathroom time.
I love how your details place the reader in time. Children today would be bored silly making paper chains, yet I remember as a girl that it was fun to see how long we could make them using the white stick paste that you had to hold the link a bit until it was partially dry. The photos remind me how much we can use pictures to recollect for memoir: the narrow light colored bricks, the hearth, the stack of ashtrays. Interesting to juxtapose your sixth year with your mother’s.
I loved reading this, Joy. We have pictures of Tonnie, Mom and I riding on that same lift probably with you because I look about the same age… I plan to find those pictures and make copies on CD. (Now that I’ve said it— I have to do it.)
We visited your family about once a year and I remember one particular visit, (about 4th grade perhaps) I was bored and Aunt Sara encouraged me to read a book. At first, I was not happy about it but later she had to make me put the book down. I don’t remember the book but I think it was a biography of Abe Lincoln possibly. I became a reader. To this day I am an avid reader and point to that single experience as the very beginning of my favorite “hobby”.
That’s really cool! I remember that you came to school with me one day in the 4th grade. I’m not sure why you visited during a school session — maybe you got spring break and we didn’t. My classmates remembered and asked about you for years after.
O that made me laugh… I don’t remember attending school with you though.
What a great approach to this week’s theme, Joy. You are always so creative. I enjoyed reading this, and I love the photos. I’ll have to look up some for my posts in future!
What a lovely post. what a huge move that was. I’m not sure about my mom at that age. At that age I was dealing with the fallout from a nasty divorce between my parents.
I know so little of my mother’s life, her childhood especially. I recently learned that my Aunt Frances had polio as a child and spent much of her childhood in a hospital. I remember my mother telling me that her father (my grandfather, obviously) once pushed Frances down the stairs “after she came home from the hospital” and I grew up thinking the scar on her leg was due to the fall. Now I know it probably had more to do with the treatment she received for polio, such as it was at the time.
I love how you juxtapose yourself and your mother at the same age. What a wonderful idea.
What a wonderful idea! I think blogs are a great way of bringing people together — either directly, like this blog challenge, or indirectly, through memory posts.
I love paper chains! I like the idea of comparing the two lives at the same age. I had to move when I was in elementary school. Your approach was better than mine- I iced out my parents and announced to my new class that my dad was going to buy me a puppy.
Pingback:Mother and Me, Age 23 — October Memoir Challenge | Joy's Book Blog
Age 6 was grade 1 and I adored going to school. I remember learning how to print with my big red primary school pencil in the lined paper notebooks and practicing the letter shapes. Our teacher was Miss Peignin (sp?) a white blonde Finnish lady who was young and vibrant. Being 6 was pretty sweet I think!
I have zero idea what age 6 was like for my mother. My aunt was always in charge of her siblings, and she hated that. I suspect they spent a lot of time together then–my aunt being about 12 when my mom was 6. My grandmother being 6 is even more of mystery, though she did say her mother tried to teach her how to cook and clean but in the end she worked in the family vineyards, not spending much time indoors at all.
Wish I had pictures of those days…
Pingback:Mother and Me, Age 48 — October Memoir Challenge | Joy's Book Blog