Archive for the ‘Memories’ Category
The Sunday Living History Interview – A Tale of Two Katharinas, a Legacy of Strong Women by Darlene Foster
Posted September 18, 2016on:
Today I am a special guest on Sally Cronin´s Living History blog. I hope you enjoy the story of my two great-grandmothers.
Author Darlene Foster shares the story of two great-grandmothers who despite the hardships they faced, worked tirelessly to give their families a home and provide them with the tools needed to survive and thrive.
“People will not look forward to posterity who never look backward to their ancestors.”Edmund Burke
I was fortunate to know both of my maternal great-grandmothers. They passed away when I was in my early teens but I remember them well. They were formidable elderly women with hearts of gold. One thing was for sure, you didn´t mess with either of them.
Both women were born into German immigrant farmer families living in South Russia and came to Canada at the beginning of the 20th century to help populate and develop the Prairie Provinces. They certainly did their part in populating the area as they had twenty-four…
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It seems another birthday cropped up on me. How did this happen? Didn’t I just have one? This is my second birthday in Spain. Last year I celebrated at a historical Spanish Finca turned into a restaurant. I wrote about it here. This year hubby took me to a Thai Restaurant called the Papaya Tree where we were joined by my in-laws and friends, including my sweet nine year old friend Ana-Lucia. We had a great time. The food was delicious and the company wonderful.
The cocktail bar next door had a special drink just for me (or so it seemed!)
Here are a couple of pictures from past birthdays.
My twelfth birthday with my curious brothers. The gift I’m opening was my very first watch.
My son found this one from my nineteenth birthday!
I have been blessed with many fabulous birthdays over the years. They are always best when shared with good friends and family. I was overwhelmed this year by the many birthday wishes I received from all over the world via social media. I felt so loved!
The great thing about getting older is that you don’t lose all the other ages you’ve been. Madeleine L’Engle
I don´t consider myself a poet. I have far to much respect for poets to include myself as one of them. But I once composed a poem about my dear grandmother, although not that good, conveys how I felt about her. A cousin found it in a family history book and sent it to me recently. I thought I would share it.
I feel her blood running through my veins
I see her in my dreams
In my daughter´s determination
She often comes to mind
when I am baking
I still feel her soft warm hugs
Hear her reassuring words
Letting me know I am loved
I feel her frustrations
Dreams that didn´t work out
The power of her love for her family
The lack of love for herself
Her confusion enters my mind
Her craziness stirs my soul
We lost so much when she left us
She left us with so much
Darlene Foster, 1999
My grandmother, Lydia (Hoffman) Mehrer, was born in 1910 and passed away in 1978 at only 68 years old. I loved her so much and miss her everyday.
A picture of her and my grandfather shortly after they married in 1928. Grandpa kept this picture in his wallet for years. I have a copy hanging in my office above my computer to keep me going.
Grandma and Grandpa with their six children taken in 1950. My mom is standing next to Grandma.
I was the first of her 32 grandchildren. She was a wonderful grandmother who loved us unconditionally and made us all feel special. I consider myself blessed to have had her in my life.
My children and grandchildren still have them; but there are not many my age that are still in possession of their tonsils. For some reason, they were removed when we were children. I was about twelve years old when my younger brother had to have his tonsils surgically removed, so the doctor suggested we all have it done. Did we get a family discount?
I remembered overhearing a story about a child who bled to death during his tonsillectomy. So when it was my turn, I was convinced I would have the same sad fate and was very frightened. Coming out of the anaesthetic, I saw a blurry image of my mother bending over me touching my wrist. I guess she had the same concern.
Having survived the operation, I did what any aspiring writer would do; wrote a letter to my aunt who was my age, and my best friend. She had undergone the same operation a few months earlier. She has, amazingly, found the letter I had written to her. (I love that our family saves things like this.)
I no longer have readable penmanship. However, I still have terrible spelling and use the word lucky a lot.
Do you still have your tonsils? Do you remember having them removed?