Sister, Wife, Mother, Grandmother
She may not remember her name most of the time but Dolores McCann still knows she’s a grandmother, mother and wife. Her identity to those monikers still runs strong, and I’m sure it’s because most of her life was built on those foundations.
I asked Grandma a few years ago (actually it was awhile ago after Grandpas funeral I think, 1991) about her meeting up with Grandpa and she told me a story of how he picked her picnic basket at some late afternoon soiree and they had been together ever since. I could never remember the wedding date, so I asked her and she replied “May, 1938.” Finally it dawned on me that my mom was born not too far behind. I said, “Wasn’t mom born in September, 1938?”
“Yes.”
“GRANDMA! So it was love at first sight huh?”
She was kind of quiet for a moment and then smiled and said, “Well I think he really liked my picnic basket!”
So wife and mother she was, all in the same year, 1938, at the age of 20.
Before she started mixing her name up, forgetting to turn off the stove or forgetting what pill she to take at noon, she was canning, freezing, mowing and cooking up a storm on the farm in Ransom, Illinois. --Don’t think she was a homebody, because she and Grandpa liked to go out every chance they got. I’d wager that Dolores was one of the best dressed women in Ransom, and no one could compete with Glenn when he wore his plaid pants, light blue suit coat and white felt fedora.
I can't ask her what she remembers now, only when she starts talking in the past do I understand some of the parts of her life. Time runs backwards for her. Lately she’s been muttering about the “girls” and worries about what they’re getting into. In her mind, Grandpa is alive again, and I’m not sure if I’m born yet, but she can rattle off her children’s names one right after the other. Once in awhile she talks about Sal SP?, a brother she lost long ago. I don’t know much about her family other than she was one of ten siblings, and it’s really too late to ask her questions. I’m sorry I never asked her more about her family – and now the history is fading.
I asked Grandma a few years ago (actually it was awhile ago after Grandpas funeral I think, 1991) about her meeting up with Grandpa and she told me a story of how he picked her picnic basket at some late afternoon soiree and they had been together ever since. I could never remember the wedding date, so I asked her and she replied “May, 1938.” Finally it dawned on me that my mom was born not too far behind. I said, “Wasn’t mom born in September, 1938?”
“Yes.”
“GRANDMA! So it was love at first sight huh?”
She was kind of quiet for a moment and then smiled and said, “Well I think he really liked my picnic basket!”
So wife and mother she was, all in the same year, 1938, at the age of 20.
Before she started mixing her name up, forgetting to turn off the stove or forgetting what pill she to take at noon, she was canning, freezing, mowing and cooking up a storm on the farm in Ransom, Illinois. --Don’t think she was a homebody, because she and Grandpa liked to go out every chance they got. I’d wager that Dolores was one of the best dressed women in Ransom, and no one could compete with Glenn when he wore his plaid pants, light blue suit coat and white felt fedora.
I can't ask her what she remembers now, only when she starts talking in the past do I understand some of the parts of her life. Time runs backwards for her. Lately she’s been muttering about the “girls” and worries about what they’re getting into. In her mind, Grandpa is alive again, and I’m not sure if I’m born yet, but she can rattle off her children’s names one right after the other. Once in awhile she talks about Sal SP?, a brother she lost long ago. I don’t know much about her family other than she was one of ten siblings, and it’s really too late to ask her questions. I’m sorry I never asked her more about her family – and now the history is fading.
posted by H at 2:21 PM
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