This is my third year
working on this year-long prompt, hosted by Amy Johnson Crow. I will write each
week in one of my two blogs, either Mam-ma’s Southern Family
or at My Trails Into the Past. I have enjoyed writing about my children’s
ancestors in new and exciting ways.
When we lived on East 9th Street, in Pittsburg, California,
in the late 50s and early 60s, my dad’s mother lived across the street and down
the block some. As children, we thought it was grand to have Nana so close. She
had been a school teacher and we loved it when she read to us or taught us cute
little songs.
She lived on the east side of a duplex. It had just three
rooms: living, kitchen, and bedroom, and a bathroom. In the living room there
was a murphy bed. I was always amazed by a bed that folded out of the wall! It
was a fun place to spend the night, but I was a little worried about it
springing back into the wall while we slept.
Also in the living room was a bookcase with children’s books
and school readers left over from at Williams School in Concord, where she
taught. It was in the living room where we would sit around her and listen to
her read. When we got old enough, we’d sit in her chair and read from the
readers ourselves.
The kitchen was small. I don’t remember many details, but
she would give us a treat: sugar wrapped in lettuce leaves. Heaven forbid now,
but then it was maybe her way to get us to eat vegetables.
Now, I’m not sure how my mother felt about Nana living so
close. I wonder how often Nana might have expressed her opinion about the way
Mom did things (or didn’t do things Nana’s way). It probably was helpful being
able to send one or two of us down to Nana’s house, so Mom could get some
peace. There were four of us by then, with the youngest having been born in
1960.
Then there was my dad. He had been the baby of the family and
maybe still a bit of a mama’s boy when he got married. I was pretty young when
we moved to Walnut Creek and don’t remember exactly the dynamics between Dad
and Nana. She ended up leaving Pittsburg and moving to Burlingame, I think, to
be closer to her daughters.
Nana would still come to visit and stay with us a few days.
She drove a black Volkswagen, made in the 50s with an oval back window. We
loved that car and would fight over who got to sit in the cubby way back. She
came to stay with us when our parents would take a short trip to Tahoe, and the
two times our baby sisters were born. We also went to visit her, especially
when she got too old to drive. Her apartment in San Mateo butted up to the
public park and we had family picnics there.
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| Nana with the first 5 grandchildren. I'm sitting on her lap. |
Copyright © 2020 by Lisa S. Gorrell, My Trails into the Past. All Rights Reserved.
Sweet Memories.
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