I was watching a previous documentary with Oprah interviewing Viola Davis about her autobiography, "Finding Me".
It struck me how blessed I had been to be raised as a white, middle class girl in the Midwest.
I never truly experienced real hardship growing up.
My mother was a housewife taking care of all of us.
My father worked as a skilled crane operator, building bridges and roads across Missouri.
He earned a very nice living wage to support his wife & four children.
From my early childhood he was away from us through the week (that changed by the time I was eleven.)
During those long work week he loyally came home each weekend with his paycheck and he was never a drinking man.
Home life was more like a Norman Rockwell kind of a life.
We knew of no real hardship, violence, cursing or ill behavior.
The only hardship we faced were leaner winters when his paycheck & savings had to stretch through the winter months when the weather dictated the work schedule.
I often wore canvas tennis shoes because my mother insisted we would not go barefoot even at home & play.
I always had new tennis shoes and black patent leather shoes but they were only for school and special occasions.
I wore them until my feet had almost outgrown them.
My toes would even pushed through before my new shoes would be cycled through to home & play shoes.
My older brother would often tease me that I must be from Topeka, Kansas.
The rarest anger I ever witnessed from my father was when my youngest brother was going through his toilet phase:
When he was younger, around 3 years old, he had a phase of flushing things down the toilet.
He would flush his small toys items or rolling lines of the toilet paper. Usually mom caught him before too much damage was done.
However, one particular Friday he snuck into the bathroom and proceeded to throw several washcloths into the toilet and then flushed.
Of course the toilet clogged and no amount of plunging helped.
For the rest of the day we had no bathroom usage. Luckily we lived across the street from a Laundromat where we made several trips to use the restroom.
When dad arrived home that evening exhausted from a week of hard work plus just enduring a 4 hour drive home.
He was not happy to be met with this mess.
My father was a man that always tried to fix his own things.
That night I heard a few choice words I never heard before and watch as he pulled the toilet up to find the multiple wash clothes in the pipe below the toilet.
He put the toilet back down with the now leaking seal ring until he could go to the hardware store to replace it in the early morning.
He finally got his shower & dinner that night about midnight.
He was gentle with my young brother whom he said was just being a small child unaware of what he really was doing. He knew he was fascinated with the swirling water and watching things disappear.
However, the routine for the bathroom changed that next day with a door latch hook high enough that us small kids could not reach thereafter.
As a child I was never overly spoiled but we were never really in want for anything of necessities. We always had wonderful meals, clothes on our backs, medical care and sufficient toys & entertainment.
I realize and I am humbled that I've indeed been blessed throughout my life. 🙏💞
Nana
Comentarios