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My First Memory - Mom
When I was four Mom told me about May Day Baskets. As was the tradition, she helped me make a basket out of paper. I don't remember now what goodies we placed in the May Day Basket, but traditionally it might be candy or the first flowers of Spring. Perhaps I drew a little picture? The tradition was to hang it on the door of someone you loved and scurry off. I remember running off with my basket when I was four and five to Aunt Vera's house that was a couple of blocks from our house in Bemidji. I'd knock on her door and run and hide behind the bushes. I thought I was pretty clever and that she never knew it was me. But of course she did.
I always treasured that sweet thing Mom taught me.
My First Memory - Dad
My first fond memory with Dad was our early morning breakfasts after we moved to Minneapolis. Dad got up early and sometimes I got up with him while everyone else was sleeping. One morning he asked me if I would like a "whole" piece of toast with my egg. I said "Yes". Dad being the jokester he was, served me my egg with toast that had a "hole" in the center. Being only five, I thought that was really funny.
On a couple of occasions Dad would slice a Baby Ruth candy bar and share it with me for breakfast. That was Dad's favorite candy bar, so of course it was mine too.
I still occasionally buy a Baby Ruth and think about
those breakfasts we shared when I was a little girl.
Minneapolis 1945-1947
We moved to Minneapolis when I was five. Don, Duane and I attended Longfellow School. One day when school let out Dad was waiting for us in his car. I don't remember if we went on an errand with him or if he took us for a treat (I like to think he took us for ice cream). The problem was that he did not tell Mom. When us kids did not arrive home at our usual time Mom became worried. She checked with some of our school friends and was told they saw us get in a car with someone they didn't know. She called the police and shortly thereafter Dad and us kids arrived home. Mom was relieved, but Dad was in the dog house for a bit.
One time while playing with a girl who lived down the alley from us, she and I got into an argument and I kicked her in her shin. I ran home and "faked crying" to Mom and said my friend kicked me. Mom saw right through me and said she knew I kicked her, because she saw me do it. Being only five or six at the time I couldn't figure out how she did that. I learned something that day... don't lie to Mom.
Bronson Drive 1947-1956
Dad drove streetcars during this period of time until the buses took over. Don, Duane and I took turns riding with Dad. As he did on the buses, Dad sang out every stop. I loved sitting on that platform next to him, especially when we sailed through Minnehaha Park, my favorite route.
Dad worked long hours and split shifts a lot of the time.
I remember in the summers when I wasn't in school, helping Mom make Dad's lunch. We made eight sandwiches, some fruit, homemade cookies or cake, and a big Thermos of coffee. I remember being in awe of that stack of sandwiches.
This was a great place to grow up as children. Wide open spaces, dirt roads on which to ride our bikes, and lots of trees to climb. And, walking distance to Spring Lake where us three older kids spent many hours. Dad with the help of Walt Olson built our little house. Before Dad built the addition we had no plumbing. We got our water from a hand pump in our utility room, had an oil stove to keep us warm, and we had an outhouse. I remember sitting around the kerosene lamp on the kitchen table where we would do homework and listen to the radio.
We also had an ice box. The top section held a big block of ice to keep our food fresh in the bottom part. When the ice man came, us kids ran after his truck and he would break off shards of ice and hand them out to us as treats. It was the best tasting ice ever!
I was only eight when Audrey was born. I had wanted a sister for so long, so when she arrived she became like a live doll to me. I learned early how to change her diaper and help take care of her. I, like Dad, was an early riser and while everyone else was still in bed I would take her out of her crib, change her diaper and dress her. Then I'd put her in the buggy and off we'd go up and down that old dirt Bronson Drive road. Even though Mom was still in bed I remember "knowing" that she was awake, but was comfortable with me taking baby Audrey for our walks. (After I wrote this I was happy to see that old buggy posted. I didn't know it was still around.)
When us three older kids were growing up, Elsie the Borden Cow was popular. We liked to joke around with Mom and call her Elsie the Cow. Mom just laughed with us and thought it was funny. Dad worked so many hours and wasn't around to hear us doing that. But one day he was there and heard us. He got after us for being so disrespectful. Mom and us kids tried to tell him it was all in fun. But he would have none if it. I think we just thought it best to not do it anymore.
I remember one night after we had our addition it was so unbearably hot and humid that I got out of bed and laid on the cool hardwood floor in the living room in front of the screen door trying to catch any ever so slight breeze that might come. I wasn't there but a minute and Mom came and laid beside me and said it was too hot for her to sleep too. I remember feeling happy inside that Mom joined me.
Able Street - October 1956
This was Mom's dream home and am glad she was able to live out her life here.
We played a lot of cards here. A favorite was 500. Mom and I liked being partners because we understood each other's plays. Whenever she won she always had that little smile, kind of a smug ha ha I won.
I remember one time Dad was sitting next to Mom as her "partner" in a game of Scrabble. Mom had bad letters but was able to make the word "tit". Dad said, "Ohhh, Elsie". Mom just did that little grin of hers and giggled.
Mom and I both loved to go shopping. I have good memories of her and me often taking the bus downtown. We would do some shopping, lunch at the Nankin and then catch a movie. Then we'd catch the bus home. But sometimes we went to a pay phone and called Dad and he would drive in to the city just to pick us up. Dad would do anything for Mom. Then when I got my first new car we drove into the city. Mom and I liked that because we could store our packages in the lockers by the parking garage before going for lunch and a movie.
Breaking in our brand new sectionals.
Dad was more affectionately demonstrative than Mom. When I would come home from Colorado for a visit, Dad would greet me at the door with a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then he would tell me he had missed me so much and was so happy I was home and that he loved me. That always made me feel good and I have thought about that often over the years. But I could tell Mom too was happy I was home, she was just more shy and reserved about it.
Many times just Mom and I would be in the dining area chatting over coffee, Mom at the table and me usually on the stool by the phone. Then the phone would ring and we would argue over who should answer. We just knew it was Lil. Often I lost that argument because I was right by the phone. Mom would sit there and laugh at me rolling my eyes.
Back at her favorite old spot.
One time when Mom and I were alone, she told me a story about how she, Grandma Helga and Helga's mother communicated when they were together. Helga's mother spoke only Norwegian but understood English. Helga understood and could speak both languages. Mom understood Norwegian but was unable to speak it. So Mom spoke English and the other two spoke Norwegian. No translations needed!
I also thought Mom looked like Queen Elizabeth. Whenever the Queen appeared on TV, Jay or I would say "There's my (your) Mom!"
One afternoon when Dad and I were sitting at the table talking over coffee he told me a sad story. I don't know if he ever shared this with anyone else. He was at the scene of a car that had caught fire and a young lady was trapped inside. The door would not open and he tried everything to break the window, but was unable to save her. Dad told me that this had haunted him his whole life. I felt so sad for him. I don't remember now when this happened, but believe it was when he was a young man. I don't remember what I said, but I just tried to show him compassion that he clearly needed. I've thought about this over the years and think he just needed to share this with someone, and I think that helped him, at least I hope it did.
Years later when Dad was driving buses he came home with a story that had a happy ending. He came upon a box upside down in the street. He pulled the bus to the curb and went to inspect it. He lifted the box and a little boy was underneath it. There were passengers on the bus, but no one complained when Dad took the little boy by the hand and walked him home to his mother. I hope this gave him some peace.
I also remember the times Dad and I walked to Rice Creek and the early mornings he and I sat on the deck over coffee while others slept, just like our early mornings together when I was a little girl.
Such happy memories growing up with Mom and Dad!
================ More stories by Kay: What's my token worth Growing up with Don and Duane Laddie Lake and Winter Stories More Adventures of Duane and Kay Don in Europe, by Kay The Chair and other farm memories More Paulson farm The Other Paulson Farm by Kay -- My First Doll by Kay -- Kay and Dolls
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