Posted by: patwogan | July 27, 2009

Blogging Again After a Long Hiatus

My daughter, Kristen, called me last night.  She had just returned from the Blogher conference in Chicago.  Apparently some of the participants had been readers of my blog and asked her what had happened to me.  After hearing that, and also some recent soul searching, I have decided to continue my blogging.  I have been doing some writing, but not blogging.  The reason for not blogging is that I had reached that part in my memories that wasn’t so happy.  But I realized that my purpose in doing this blog was to leave a record of my life experiences for my children and grand-children.  All our memories are not of happy times, but the happy and unhappy times are a part of life.  It is important to know that we all overcome times in our lives that are less than happy and this is what makes us the persons we are.

My Mother was one of these persons who was so strong because of the things she overcame in her life.  I have been writing about her life.  In writing, I realize how few details I know of her early life.  I know she was born in Wichita, Kansas, and that she had family on her mother’s side in Valley Center.  This I know because she told of riding in a wagon in a bed made by her mother.   She told of watching the stars as they rode through the countryside.  They went at night after her father finished work.  She made mention of this in passing one time.  Apparently she had cousins there and enjoyed visiting them.  Actually this is about all she mentioned about her mother’s family.  This is probably because her mother died when she was eight years old. 

Her father was overly fond of alcohol and her description of him was that he was a very mean man.  I inferred from her description that he became meaner when he had been drinking.  My mother’s mother died because she had a miscarriage and mother’s father refused to take her to a doctor.  At that time they lived in a rural community .

 I would guess that in that case, she probably bled to death.  Imagine the trauma that must have been to an eight year old child.  But mother never mentioned any specifics about it.  Her mother’s death left three children motherless with an alcoholic father. Mother’s older brother became her protector.  She, in turn, became the protector of  her younger brother, two years old at the time.   Again, I know very few details of her life at that time. 

She never specifically mentioned her father’s abuse, but only said her brother protected her, and said her father was a very mean man.  Perhaps the abuse was something she wanted to forget or ignore.  I just know that she was made stronger by overcoming it.

  Her father’s mother moved into their home to care for the children.  I know my mother loved her Grandma and in later years moved Grandma into our home to take care of her.  She also never mentioned anything about this time in her life when she took care of her grandchildren after the death of their mother. 

When my mother had finished the eighth grade, her father told her that was enough education.  The high school was about fifteen miles away and he refused to let her go.  She went to Independence and got a job working in a home keeping house and taking care of their children for the opportunity to attend high school.  She worked for board and room for this family.  Again, she never mentioned this hardship, just her appreciation of the education she was able to receive.   

I realize that as children we live on the periphery of our families.  Children usually don’t know what is going on during times of crisis because we as parents try to protect them from some of the harsh realities of life.  I am convinced that this is a good thing.  Childhood should be a happy time.   I cry for the children whose parents abuse them, not realizing what a blessing God has entrusted them. 

So I am trying to piece together my mother’s life.  There are mysteries unknown and only speculated about.  I have been trying to ascertain the facts and in some cases actually fictionalize parts of it.  It is quite difficult to do because I know so little about her.  I want my children to know about me.  So I will continue to blog…good memories as well as those that aren’t quite so good.  Nevertheless, they make up the fabric of my life.

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Responses

  1. “All our memories are not of happy times, but the happy and unhappy times are a part of life. It is important to know that we all overcome times in our lives that are less than happy and this is what makes us the persons we are.”

    VERY WELL SAID

    • Thank you for your comment. I appreciate your taking the time to send it to me.

  2. Thank you for getting momentum again. Sorry that it causes negative emotions to return but I have learned quite a bit through the time you have taken to tell these bits of history. We went to Independence while in Kansas for vacation and the little train was out running–but no carousel–I wish our grand kids could have memories of a little train in their towns. Love you. PS I love thinking about gommy too.

  3. I am sitting hear teary eyed reading this…makes me miss Grandma. She was always so positive and so tough. I hope that I have a bit of her spunk in me!

  4. I am another “blogger” finding your blog through your daughter, Kristen. You write so well and the legacy of your written words are priceless to your family. I wish to someday have to courage to write like you, and share those unhappy times that also make us who we are, if not even stronger.

    • Thank you very much. I hope the grandchildren enjoy the stories as much as I enjoy remembering them.


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