Remembering my parents
This photograph was taken in 1943, shortly after they were married.
Not many people knew them well. They were simply quiet, hardworking folks. Life goes on and time is already busy erasing some of the traces of their lives in this world – so many of the people they loved and places they knew are gone.
They never had much of a social life or took the time for themselves to pursue many hobbies. Life was all about family to them. They were devoted to each other, to their five children (I was the baby, spoiled by all) and to their families back in the beloved hometown in Iowa.
I always knew they were wonderful, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to truly realize the heavy load of work and sacrifice they bore without complaint to make for us a sweet childhood home and a good start in life.
They gave us such stability, safety, security - and they showed the way with a solid example to follow. But more than that – we were loved. Hugged, kissed, worried over, fussed at, nagged a bit, taken care of a lot, pushed some, but just plain loved hard, the way we were. It’s the kind of love that carries you through a lifetime and all the troubles the world can send your way.
Dad has been gone eight years now, and we lost our mom 21 years ago this month. I miss them and think of them every day. I guess the best I can do to honor them is to remember, and to try to pass on the love they gave me, hoping it will trickle down through the future, turning into a great river of joy – because they lived.
Remembering my parents
This photograph was taken in 1943, shortly after they were married.
Not many people knew them well. They were simply quiet, hardworking folks. Life goes on and time is already busy erasing some of the traces of their lives in this world – so many of the people they loved and places they knew are gone.
They never had much of a social life or took the time for themselves to pursue many hobbies. Life was all about family to them. They were devoted to each other, to their five children (I was the baby, spoiled by all) and to their families back in the beloved hometown in Iowa.
I always knew they were wonderful, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to truly realize the heavy load of work and sacrifice they bore without complaint to make for us a sweet childhood home and a good start in life.
They gave us such stability, safety, security - and they showed the way with a solid example to follow. But more than that – we were loved. Hugged, kissed, worried over, fussed at, nagged a bit, taken care of a lot, pushed some, but just plain loved hard, the way we were. It’s the kind of love that carries you through a lifetime and all the troubles the world can send your way.
Dad has been gone eight years now, and we lost our mom 21 years ago this month. I miss them and think of them every day. I guess the best I can do to honor them is to remember, and to try to pass on the love they gave me, hoping it will trickle down through the future, turning into a great river of joy – because they lived.