I "borrowed" my dad's diary from my sister last time I was in Canandaigua. It takes some effort to read a five year diary penned in minuscule handwriting. Mostly I read bits and pieces...3/27/1967- ... After supper I played with Marth. She's a honey. ...
3/27/1968- ... Tomorrow Marth goes into the hospital for her operation. ...
3/28/1968- ... Ar and Marth spent most of the day at the hospital. After work I went there, and we colored pictures and played with Marth in her ward. She is a good girl, and very cheery about the whole thing. ...
3/29/1968- ... Marth had her eye operation, so Ar spent the day at the hospital. After work I went back home to get Dan, dropped him off at Mom's and went to the hospital. Read stories to Marth. She has a patch on her eye, and it irritates some, but she's very good. She waved goodbye at the elevator. Cute.
3/31/1968- ...Coffee, Sunday school, and church. ... Dan, Marth and Prisc stayed with Barb and the kids while Ar and I went to see Tim. He was so cute and sparkly, but we didn't have near enough time with him. ...
4/01/1968- Ar cried herself to sleep, (Tim). Marth is having trouble with her eye. Ar took her to the doctor's. ... Marth cries a lot.
4/04/1968 ... Pouring rain, windy. Martin Luther King was shot to death in Memphis, Tennesee.
4/07/1968- ... Barb stopped over. She bought a house. ... Tonight Ar went to church. I had Dan, John, Kathy, Karen, Marth, and Prisc. Had a hectic time. Prisc cried, Dan stepped in the cake. I did a lot of running around for gas. Prisc threw up all over the front seat. I took them home (mine), cleaned up Marth and Prisc in the tub. Ar came home, then I took Art's kids out home. ...
4/08/1968- ... Marth's eye is good. ...
4/09/1968- ... Martin Luther King's funeral was today. We had some riot scares, but was only rumor. ...
4/13/1968- ... Tonight the folks took us all to Cartwright's for supper. We had a very nice time. Stopped at the Trading Post. The kids were cute.
I was four years old for all but the first of these entries and it's strange the memories and feelings that come rushing in when I read some of this. As an adult I have a better understanding of our family history and the timeline of major events, and I find myself sympathetic toward not only my parents (Mom was pregnant and unaware, and the company Dad worked for was struggling to survive) but my Aunt Barb as well. She had just lost her husband to cancer that February and had six small children to raise by herself. Life certainly was in a state of turmoil for the adults in my world.And then there was the little Martha who had troubles of her own. I think for most of my first five years I was lost in a sea of unintentional and uncontrollable chaos, topped off with two eye operations followed by a pair of subsequent surgeries for a bladder re-flux. As a very little girl I was expected to "man-up," although no one would have called it that. Smile and wave goodbye at the hospital elevator and don't cry. Be brave, even if just under the surface you are terrified and alone. I can scarcely believe we got groceries the day I came home from the hospital...
The supper with Grandma and Grandpa at Cartwright's... I wonder if that was the time the fire whistle went off at the station across the street and I dove under the table without any warning. I was petrified of sirens.
Oh Martha...I feel like I stepped into someone's private space...not sure I felt comfortable, and then realized how personal and precious this diary is, and how fortunate you are to have those stories kept. Neither my mother or dad every journaled...It was my dear friend of over 75 years that it was started. It was our own little Woolsworth notebooks. And I've been journaling and keeping a record of my written prayers.
ReplyDeleteWhat a rough beginning...Maybe way back then God was preparing you for today. I love you deeply, and thank you for opening up your life and heart to us.
I wish my mom had kept a journal too, but just having Dad's is a treasure. I'm looking to heal the child within, the one who still feels inadequate and often invisible. I know my parents loved me, there is no question of that, but the little girl often felt unnoticed and inferior.
DeleteI know God has a plan for each and every one of us. He weaves us together physically and spiritually, paves the way, and lights the path. I want to be ready for whatever He has for me.
How wonderful that you have that diary. Life is really bittersweet and not always easy to look back on it. Sounds like you are a survivor. Hugs- Diana
ReplyDeleteWe are all survivors to some degree. Thank you for the hugs. I need those.
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I just love that he wrote in a diary for so many years. I kinda wish we got to read them when Dad was still alive. I feel like it would have been like peeking in a window of their life, a part I never really knew. Reading this made me want to keep reading... to find out what happened next! Haha! It makes me sad that they had so much going on all at once for a while. While I was reading that Mom was grumpy, and then cried herself to sleep one night, I was thinking hormones were playing a part somewhat since she was pregnant with me, although unaware. You must have felt the tension during that time. I would love to read that when you're done. I'll trade ya! :) Maybe I'll start reading the ones I have again.
ReplyDeleteMom was also grieving, had struggled with bursitis, and was tired, probably from wrestling me. I didn't feel good and she had to straddle me and pin me down to get those drops in my eyes. As cooperative as I may have been in the hospital, by the time I got home I'd had enough and didn't feel good. On top of that there was tension on all sides.
DeleteIn the end things settled down and we have so many wonderful memories. I still wouldn't trade it for the world. I love you, Rachel. Thanks for coming along.
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And did I mention I didn't feel good? Ha ha!
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