I’ve Been Thinking A Lot About What Home Means To Me
Safety, security, refuge, or what?
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I came from a large family, counting Mom and Dad, ten. In the 1950’s it was easier to move and feel safe. I am talking about people that rent a house, not the folks that buy their homes. You did not need 1st, last, and security deposit to move it. Sometimes, it was about how many children you had and whether the owner cared about the property or not. I remember living in many places when I was small especially before I was twelve. Six homes come to mind as I write this. After we moved in my Mom always had a garden either of tomatoes, corn, etc. or flowers. That helped to dress up the place.
There were so many transitions going on since my siblings were four older, then a gap of six years, than four younger. Some were getting married and moving out. Some were going into the service and maybe returning later. One was a teenager that felt trapped at home with younger kids and a Mom desperate for money. Our Dad left to live in Utah for three years working on the Glen Canyon dam. He was an alcoholic and money was not guaranteed.
We didn’t have a lot of things most kids had, like dogs, cats, pets of any kind, because where we lived did not allow them and even if we could, there was no money to care for them. So that was a blessing of a sort.
We received donations of clothes and food from the church we belonged to. The sisters made Communion and Confirmation dresses for my sister and me. They also made a few other dresses for school for us. We always felt pretty good at school until one nun blurted out in front of the class that we were ‘poor and couldn’t afford anything.’ I guess charity just gets to people some times. They get very impatient. We didn’t have a car either. Grocery shopping was a chore for my Mom.
When I was thirteen I found a job because I was tired of not having any clothes for school. My father had passed away when I was ten so times were worse than before. With my new job I was able to buy three new…
