The Making of a Grandmother -- Part III

It wasn't long after my great grandmother died until there was a new mother in the house. The step mother was one to help run the household for the widower and his many children. But her ways were very different than their mother's had been. The adjustment to a different way of living was very difficult for my Grammie.  As the eldest daughter she was accustomed to working alongside her mother and taking responsibility. She was able to make quick and wise decisions -- even as a 15-year-old. 

Sadly, what had once brought joy turned to drudgery. In her heart, Grammie really felt that her step mother had no affection for the children under her care. She could see how her younger siblings who were once nurtured in their mother's tender care were bewildered in a new and rigid life. 

The bereft teenager was unable to bear the hardship of being a Cinderella of sorts. She was expected to toil with no appreciation, no rewards, and no feelings of being loved and respected. All the stress and unhappiness at home hastened the planned marriage to a handsome, young well driller by the name of Watson. 

She was wed at the tender age of sixteen and began her life-long practice of taking the hurting and the needy into her care. As much as her father would allow, the young bride welcomed her little sister and her younger brothers into her home for visits. These times with their big sister were times of greatly needed respite for them. All of their lives they would say, "she was like a mother to me." How they loved her! 

Before she was twenty, my grandmother lost three babies. Each time it broke her heart. In that day before The Pill, cruel people -- sort of like Job's comforters -- would ask her why she was so upset. One person said to her, "the rest of us would be thrilled to have a miscarriage once in awhile. . ." Such cruelty tore at her heart. 

Finally, in 1922, after several months on bed rest, Grammie gave birth to her first child -- a girl. My mother was born on a February day. The doctor took his horse and sleigh up the stream and attended the birth. My grandmother told me that my mother was the most beautiful, red-headed baby. Later she had the freckles that her Irish genes assigned to her. Ultimately she gave birth to two more children -- a son and another daughter. How she loved her children, and what a wonderful Mamma she was. All three would tell you they had the best mother in all of the world. 

As the young couple -- my grandparents -- settled into life with their little children, The Great Depression loomed on the horizon.

--To be continued.  

The Making of a Grandmother Part II

Nobody loved her mother more than my Grammie Muriel loved her beautiful, brown-eyed Irish "Mama".  Her love was so intense that when dear mother Jessie Murphy Nason died in the influenza epidemic, she would allow nobody to prepare her Mama's body for burial. It was in my Grammie's 16th year that she took it upon herself to comb her dead mother's hair and wash her body for burial. It was her last, loving service to her beloved mother.

Years Later:  Here she is with Grandchildren

The world was in turmoil, ravaged by the first world war. The early death of adults and the high mortality incidence of infants was among the harsh realities of life. She told of how a baby sibling died in the winter. The family buried the body of their precious, little one in a hole that was dug in the dirt floor of the machine shed. There was no other way to dispose of the little body. This was a grief that she always carried with her.

Grammie's youngest brother Lawrence was born with a defective urinary tract and did not survive long after the death of his mother. My grand-mother believed that her little brother died of a broken heart after the nurturing arms of his Mamma were no longer there for him. In the age of no antibiotics, there may have been a urinary infection, too.

So many times in the lives of people, the trials and difficulties of life teach them to be compassionate. That was the case with my Grammie. Left with eight younger siblings to care for, my Grandmother took her responsibilities seriously. The protective, surrogate mother-instinct became solidly engraved in Grammie Muriel's heart.

I am certain that Grammie Muriel was the greatest champion of children that I ever knew. She could not bear to hear them cry or to see them disappointed. If a child was troubled it was Grammie to the rescue! If it was at all in her power to provide comfort and peace to a little heart, Grammie Muriel would do it.

This story -- the making of a Grandmother -- is like a Grimm's tale in some ways, for it has its own stepmother.

-- To Be Continued

The Making of a Grandmother - Part I

Once upon a time, at the turn of the 20th Century, there was a pleasant farm at the end of a narrow, winding lane near the edge of the deep woods in Northern Maine. It was a place where spring came late, fall came early, and winter lasted for a long, long time. In the warm months, children ran

The Nason Farmhouse ~ Monticello, Maine

barefoot through the fields and pastures, gathering daisies in their grubby hands and taking them to their dear and gentle mother. Father was a hard-working woodsman and farmer, toiling daily to make a living for his growing family.                                                

The house sat atop a hill and the view was spectacular year-round. On the farm there were cattle, chickens, and everything necessary for a self-sufficient lifestyle. It was a wonderful life for children and parents alike, but the work never stopped. Survival depended upon every member of the family -- even the little children -- doing their part in planting on time, keeping the crows away from the seedlings, and harvesting their crops before the killing frost and the wind-driven snows descended. It also depended upon feeding and tending the flocks and the herd. And it depended upon gathering the eggs, feeding the pigs, and milking the cow on schedule -- day in and day out, year after year.

Trees had to be chopped down and the wood cut, split, dried, and stacked for warming the house in the winters. Everyone helped. And once winter arrived, children kept the wood boxes full and carried water from the well into the house for drinking, bathing, and laundry. Oil lamps had to be kept clean and filled. There was always something to be done.

Saturdays were for cleaning house, baking beans, churning butter, and making cottage cheese. And they were a time fo children and mother to get out the galvanized wash tub and fill it with water heated on the iron cook stove. One by one, the children would be subjected to their weekly bath and shampoo so they would be squeaky clean when they mounted the wagon on Sunday morning to travel the mile or so to Church. 

The family had built the little *Church with wood cut and milled on their homestead. There at the Church they were sometimes blessed with a sermon by the circuit rider and sometimes Father would give the Bible lesson. After worship Sunday afternoon was a day of rest. They termed it the Sabbath and expected that all work but necessary care of children and animals ceased. On those afternoons people took naps or shared delightful stories and memories together. 

One of those children was my dear maternal Grandmother. She was born in 1902 as the second of ten babies born to her mother, Jessie Murphy Nason and her father, George Wilmont (Bill) Nason. It was in those days of growing and toiling at her mother's side that Muriel Nason began to develop into the woman that I knew and dearly loved as my "Grammie". 

*The Lake Road Church still stands. It is where we were married and where some of our family members still worship to this day (2-22-15)

--To be continued

I Wish My Mom and Dad Could Have Seen This

Stair Lift Chair AtThe Ready!

What happens when you live in a raised ranch and cannot get up and down the stairs? Well, until now -- just before Thanksgiving 2014 -- Grammie Ruth has needed the ambulance crew to help her to her car and back up the stairs whenever she has had an appointment. What a wonderful service by the Glenburn - Hudson crew!

As much as we have appreciated the ambulance people, neither Mom nor I have wanted to call them so that we could go on a joy ride or even to Church. We wanted in no way to abuse the privilege that we have enjoyed and for which we have been very thankful.

Now that the chair lifts are in place, we plan to go out just for the sake of going out. This is so liberating for Mom (and us) and she is looking forward to going to Church when the weather is good. You have probably heard me quote this verse many times -- Philippians 4:19. " And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus."

Giving the new Lift Chair a try

Mom is able to go with her walker to the head of the stairs and get into her chair with very little assistance. Marcia helped her. Once in, her chair turns to a 90 degree angle. There is a seat belt that she can use but she opted not to use it. She had tried the chair while the installer was here, but this was the first time to use it without a coach here to cheer us on. 

Approaching The Half Way Mark!

The chair operates by remote control or from a control on the arm of the chair. Mom wanted to try this for herself and she was able to manage her solo trip perfectly. For a woman who tried a snowmobile and a four-wheeler for the first time in her 80s, this was no big deal to master in her 90s! We are so proud of her. 

Waiting For Her Cane

If Mom had been going to the garage to get into her car, we would have changed chairs at the landing. Then the second chair would have gone to the garage level. We decided to only did one set of stairs for this initial run. And Gram decided to try transferring from one chair to the other. 

Transferring From One To The Other

We all decided to use her cane and have Marcia assist. I was on hand in case they needed me. It turned out I could operate the camera at will. Mom and Marcia had no problems at all. Mom's cane has four "feet" on the bottom and it is very stable. It was about 3 steps from one chair to the other. 

Mom went to the second chair. Good job, Mom! We didn't go to the next level because we had some cardboard boxes at the foot of the stairs for disposal. We were at the end of a long day and didn't want to move them. So we decided to go back to square one! 

The thing that touched my heart the most was Mom's thankfulness. Doesn't she look happy? 

Mom said she didn't believe that she would ever have something like this. At one point she said, "you know what? I wish my Mom and Dad and Lawrence (brother) and Iola (sister) could have seen this today". Well, Andrea was here in her mother's place today -- she was able to see it and try it out! I know that pleased Mom a lot.

"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." James 1:17

The Right Kinds of Relationship!

Grandkids, I just read a quote that really touched me so much that I want to share it with you. It is this: "The right relationship will not distract you from God. It will bring you closer to Him."

One reason that I like it so much is for its excellent advice. I would like you to remember that everything about this earthly life is temporary. It is temporary, but it is not unimportant. God has made us in His image and has created us for a purpose. Living by His plan is wise and rewarding. The choices that we make
always lead to consequences. The good and thoughtful choices will bring joy and satisfaction into our lives and into the lives of our friends and family. The foolish and rebellious choices will lead to heartache and disappointment for us and for the people who love us. Sometimes the consequences of our actions change the entire course of our lives for better or for worse.

On this journey we call life, we need a road sign that reads, "Proceed With Caution". God has prepared the way and He has provided the instructions in the Bible. There is an old country song that I remember from my 'teen years. Let me quote from it here:

"I'm using my Bible for a road map, the children of Israel used it too.
They crossed the Red Sea of destruction, for God was there to see them safely through.
"There'll be no detours in Heaven, no rough roads along the way.
I'm using my Bible for a road map, my last stop is Heaven some sweet day."

-- Written by Don Reno and Charles Schroeder

 In the Book of Proverbs we can read the warnings that Solomon wrote to his son about staying away from the wrong kind of woman. In II Timothy 2:22, Paul warned, "flee youthful lusts but follow righteousness, faith, charity, peace, with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart." For the believer, our closest friends and companions should be those who know and love Jesus. They should be the kind of friends who help us to grow as sincere Christians.

When you start thinking of marriage, pray earnestly that God will help you make the right choice. Little in this life is more important than the decisions about when and who to marry. Read the Bible portions about marriage and meditate on God's plan for the home and family. Remember, just about everyone can be "nice" when you go on a date. Any red flags about character, personality, and behavior should not be ignored. This kind of thing will NOT get better once you say, "I do".

Someone has said that marriage is NOT 50/50. That is divorce, they say. Marriage is 100/100. Both the husband and the wife will be totally committed to God and to each other. They will put away their selfishness and love each other sacrificially. It will be their desire to please the Lord in everything they do and say. They will love each other unconditionally. And they will rely on the leading of the Holy Spirit as they establish their home and family.

In every interaction, God says in both the Old and New Testaments that we are to love our neighbor as ourselves. Here, in I Corinthians 13:5-7 is God's guide to the right kind of relationship in the home, in the classroom, in the workplace:

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

When There Were NO Computers, What Did We Do?

Part Three:

One of the things we liked to do most was "Play House". Whenever we could get a brother or a cousin to play the Dad role, that was nice. That meant we could have a complete family with kids and dolls and stuffed animals. Our favorite place to play house was under the big plum bushes near the end of our pasture. We had a cherry tree, some plums, and some blackberry bushes all growing in a small grove. It was under these bushes that we worked and cleaned, removing twigs and debris and ending up with a beautiful mud floor that got

Carla and me at Grammie's and Grampie's

hard-packed by our feet and swept faithfully every play day. Of course, the boys got tired of the cleaning and comforting crying dolls and teddy bears. So they would leave the mothers to tend to the home and children and go off hunting or playing cops and robbers.

We spent a lot of time at Grammie Muriel's and Grampie Ellery's. We lived down over a small hill from them and so we couldn't see their house less than a half mile away. On one side of our grandparents was Uncle Lawrence's family -- and that was three cousins. On our side of Grammie's and Grampie's house was Aunt Iola's family -- and that was two more cousins. I was the eldest cousin and found myself often being "too old" for what was going on. But Andrea was only two years younger and the two of us were best friends and more like sisters than cousins. We had so much fun -- things like dressing cats up in doll clothes and taking them for rides in the doll stroller. Our creativity was only limited by the limits of our imaginations. 

I remember life being SO peaceful for the years that I was an "only child". All my toys were beloved and kept in good shape. Mom was my constant companion and spent time playing games with me and including me in much of her day. When I was 5 1/2, God sent me a little sister and I adored her. Then in the following 3 years came two brothers -- and I adored them, too. Often blessings are accompanied by sacrifice -- and in my case it was great sacrifice. My nearly pristine stuffed animals and dolls became victims of my siblings ... mostly brother number one! It was heart breaking to see things like a stuffed bunny ripped out under his arms or a doll with her hair cut almost totally off. But even then I knew that people were better than stuffed toys and so I rather quietly endured the trauma. 

It was necessary for me to think back and have a little empathy for the clumsiness of little children. After all, I had broken the two front teeth from my mother's one and only baby doll. She had graciously allowed me to play with her and when I was using the thermometer from my "Nurse Kit" to take the doll's temperature it got stuck!  When I pulled the thermometer from the doll's mouth, out came the teeth. Mom was heart broken. Growing up in the depression meant life without many luxuries and so her doll was cherished. And I have always sorrowed over ruining her!

We always had enough to eat and we dressed in hand-me-down's a good share of the time. We were warm for the most part. That is, we were warm except on winter mornings before the stoves were turned up and the skim of ice was melted in the water bucket kept by our kitchen sink. By today's standards, we were poor, but we didn't know it. We were happy. 

We manufactured our own fun and we knew little of what it meant to be entertained. We entertained ourselves. If there was nothing else to do, we would lie on the hay in the barn and watch a spider diligently build a web. And we loved to see them kill the flies they trapped. It was amazing to watch them wrap the murdered flies in a silken blanket -- a burial shroud. 

Chores were always part of our lives. There were house chores and there were barn chores. I preferred the barn. There were usually pigs to feed, cows to feed and water, chickens to care for, eggs to gather. In the garden we pulled weeds, helped harvest the produce, and had tasks related to preserving enough food for the following winter. We were a team. We survived together, and we usually did so happily. Though I absolutely hated dealing with the flatware when we washed the dishes. NO, we didn't have a dishwasher. Everything went into a pan of warm, sudsy water and scrubbed clean. That was one person's job. Another would take the washed and rinsed dishes and wipe them dry. Someone tall enough to safely reach the cupboards put the stack of clean dishes away. 

God was uppermost in our lives. We talked about Him and about the Bible. And we talked to Him. We prayed at every meal and at bed time. I remember the lengthy prayers of little siblings who didn't know what else to say, so there was quite a list of, "God bless Mommy and Daddy . . . God bless [this one and that]" until they couldn't think of anybody else. And when they finished blessing the people they would sometimes start in on the animals. Another long list was "Thank You. . ." It was because of those times, we learned that God is real and that He loves to hear and answer prayer. 

All of that beats TV and the internet! Many times I have said this and I will say it again: I am SO thankful for growing up in a Christian environment and a loving family. And that is why I consider myself wealthy -- rich in good memories and in knowing my Lord and Savior. I have an amazing future waiting for me, blessings that my effort could never obtain. And if I had all the money in the world I could never purchase salvation. It is the gift of God's grace. 

Life Without Computers and The Like -- Chapter Two

Dear Grandchildren,

Last time I talked about life as I first remember it. The home where my immediate family lived had more

My Mom and Brother Brian

modern conveniences than our grandmother's and grandfather's house. I recall moving into our home on "the main road" (US 1) in Littleton. It is unclear where we moved from, but it was definitely exciting to be in our new house.

The house had been purchased by my parents and moved about 1/2 mile to the small farm they bought from Grammie Ruth's Aunt Lillian and Uncle Howard Graham. The house sat on blocks at first across the driveway from a rock foundation where the farm house was before it burned. I am not sure just how long we lived in our house on blocks, but it was for a few years.

We had electricity, but no running water. Having electricity meant we had lights in all the rooms, a refrigerator for keeping our perishable food supply, an electric washing machine for agitating and cleaning clothing and a power-driven wringer for getting the excess water out of the laundered items. There were lights in the barn where we had varying numbers of cows, calves, pigs, chickens, and turkeys, so no oil lanterns were needed in our barn! Near the house was our water well with a hand pump. On the other side of the barn was our outhouse -- a two-seater. And, yes, there was a Sears catalog there!

At night and on cold days we listened to the radio. There was music and news, yes. But the thing we liked the most was to listen to the stories. We gathered around the livingroom and waited for one of the adults to tune in the radio. It made strange sounds until the dial was set just right and then it was ALL ears! One program was "Dragnet" with Officer Joe Friday. He always caught the bad men. Then there was Boston Blackie. I don't remember what show he was on. We listened to the "Inner Sanctum". I don't remember much about the stories, but I remember the creaking door that sent chills up my spine. I think there were monsters -- scary, but funny to some. We liked Abbot and Costello -- so funny, always! And there were more. Some of those shows made it to TV a few years later.

We liked to be out-of-doors more than anything. Some of the games we played would not be politically correct today. We played "Cops and Robbers" and "Cowboys and Indians". Those were games that were maybe a take-off on the game of "Tag". Basically we chased each other around pretending to be shooting each other. Boy, would that get us into trouble in the 21st century. We played things like "Kick The Can", "Hide and Seek", "Frozen Tag", and "Alley Over". The only need for real sporting equipment for that kind of game was a ball for "Alley Over".  That was a great game at school, too.

We had clubs with rules. And sometimes children got into trouble with parents or grandparents for making a girl ONLY club or a "No Girls Allowed" play house. Saw horses, planks, tires, just about anything became construction material for our creations! Oh, yes -- we had to put things away, but we turned that into fun, too.

Of course, we played baseball and soft ball in the pasture; we played croquet; and we liked to play horse shoes, too. We loved to play "house" and that was really a role play game. It was fun being the baby and bawling like one. The girls liked to make "Mud Pies" -- it was just stirring up dirt and water and putting it into our tiny cake pans or some other substitute. Sometimes we would decorate them with wild flowers. Grammie Muriel was famous for letting us go to the hen house to gather a few eggs to stir into our mud concoctions. (She rarely said "no" to us but when she did, she meant it!)

What about rainy days? OH, they were great fun. We put our swim suits on during down-pours and played in the mud puddles. On really hot days, we made shelters under the trees and then begged for crackers and milk or some other goody so we could sit in the shade and have a picnic. Another favorite was to get a banana, climb up into a tree, sit on a branch and pretend to be monkeys eating our fruit.

We liked to climb up on a tractor and pretend to drive it. And we loved to go out and pet the cows. Sometimes we even laid on the grass and rested our heads on a nice, warm cow who was placidly chewing her cud. The hay mows were awesome places to play and hide -- and so were the bins of oats being stored for the hens and pigs.

 Every yard had a sand/gravel pile and we used to make awesome roads with the toy graders and run the dump trucks over them to pick up loads of gravel to create new landscapes to go with our network of roads.

So what about life without computers and TV?  Somehow I think childhood was a lot richer in certain ways. Our great and delicious fun knew no bounds except the limits of our own creativity and the inability of  the adults to always see why we needed to do this or have that!

To be continued. . .