MPT Part 1: Sharing a Birthday

This is the first in a series of 15 blogs I'm writing for Mommy's Piggy Tales .  Janna has provided a forum for members to write and share stories from their youth.  Since I now have five young grandchildren, I want to develop a personal history for them.   As a child, I loved hearing about the "olden times" from my grandparents.  Now I wish I had asked them even more questions!    I hope our grandchildren will enjoy reading my reflections.  In truth, the things they say and do remind me of favorite activities from long ago that I haven't thought about for decades.  Also I'm enjoying memories of things our children said and did.   Now is the time to write the family stories!


In the banner, I am second from the left.  The others are my cousins and a neighborhood friend.  We lived in the little white house somewhat masked by the tree until I was 7 years old.  My theme will include forms of transportation, as much as possible, as we start Riding Along!

**********Sharing a Birthday

My sister had quite a surprise on her third birthday, ME!  Although I was due about a week later, I arrived, naturally, on the same date as she was born.   Throughout our lives, we've had an annual celebration of "our" birthday with two cakes and two songs.

In November 1942, my father was a young athlete/coach and my mother a talented musician/homemaker.  On the night before I was born, he played his last football game with a semi-pro team.  On the day I was born, she sang to me!

I was named Karen Margaret.  Karen was a name they liked and Margaret was honoring a dear friend. Karen was quite popular from 1940 to 1970, even in the Top 10.  However, now it is much less common for newborns.

Here is our family car where I rode home from the hospital in my mother's arms.  They didn't have car seats then so the adults just held children which seems unsafe to us now.   Also in the photo are my dad and my sister.  I probably wore that snowsuit three years later.  In those days children always shared clothing!  Sometimes, though, we had matching outfits so I got to wear mine until I outgrew it and THEN I could wear hers!  Yet, I did survive!

We lived about 400 miles from other family members, so it was impossible for the grandmothers or aunts to come and help my mom with the new baby.  My parents managed fairly well and appreciated some support from dear friends and neighbors.  I didn't meet my extended family until I was about 9 months old.

I was born during World War II which affected everyone in the country.  Anticipating that my dad would be drafted, my parents moved back to the small town in Nebraska where all of my dad's family lived and several members of my mother's family.  However, after they relocated, my dad was told he should work on the family farm because his four brothers were serving in the military all over the world.  As things turned out, the family continued to live in the small Nebraska town the rest of their lives.  My dad dedicated himself to a career he loved utilizing new farming methods and serving others.   My mother shared her musical talents in the church and community activities.

In our area of the country, a number of farm families, chose to live in town rather than on the farm itself.  My grandparents made this decision in the 1920s to take advantage of the schools and conveniences in town for their six children.  Similarly, my parents followed suit and bought a small house as "city farmers."  My dad drove five miles daily out to the farm for the next 60 years.

My hometown was typical of many in the Midwest.  Everyone knew everyone else as well as their parents and grandparents.  We walked everywhere.  I graduated from high school with most of the same people who were in my elementary school.  One set of grandparents lived near us.  My best friend was my cousin.  All these stories lie ahead as we begin Riding Along.