Questions

I have questions for you Mother,
I thought of you today
put flowers by your graveside
sad that I couldn't stay.

But I knew that you would understand
I heard your 'Donald dear'
and then when I got another chance
I scoured your scrolls of younger years

So who was Mrs Mason?
Whose rent did you record?
And why the glass insurance?
was it difficult to afford?

In 1945 Mum, when you were 23,
Dad was just a boy,
already three times evacuee.
And though the war was over,
for him the worst was still to come,
How were those same years for you?
I have questions for you Mum.


Mum would have been 98 this 14 July had she lived longer. She grew up in Gateshead, Newcastle-upon-Tyne, - in a family of modest means, and with disabilities to contend with. At 23 she was setting off on her secretarial career and would soon be joining the civil service. Meanwhile, Dad was just 13 and living with his parents having already been living in five different homes during his times as an evacuee. His mother was shortly to be taken from him due to a heart attack at the age of 51. I am fortunate enough to be spending time with Dad and able to ask questions, listen to tales. And whilst we did the same with Mum. Oh how I still have questions. So many questions.

I'm posting this week without any editing or much time - caring is pretty full on. So this is my indulgence and as I am trying to fit in a couple of hours work at the early end of the day, Im not getting much to your projects. Please forgive.

[Ethel]

Precious. Please look after yourself as well as Dad. I would rather see you sitting down with a cuppa, than pressuring yourself to make comments on 365. Hugs.

[amyK]

beautifully presented; my thoughts are with you

[Ann H. LeFevre]

As my joint issues progress I find myself thinking the same things you have voiced here- so many questions Mom! I didn't think to ask them of my father when he was alive because none of the pain or degeneration had occurred to this degree yet. I have old ledgers like this too. I'm not sure why they are so fascinating except that they are a window into the adulthood of our parents that happened long before we were born and it somehow makes them a "real person" as well as a parent. Comment when you can and treasure your Dad- that's what's most important.

[summerfield]

wish my mother lived long enough for me to querry her on a lot of things. i find that the people of long ago all have the same handwriting. they could write and they could write! which is lacking from the young generation.

[Kathy A]

I am amazed at what you are finding at your dads place. I think we all wish we hadn’t chosen not to ask or listen when we were young

[Junko Y]

Your photograph and accompany thoughts brought so much to mind, and yes, the questions left unanswered when we are left without having had time to ask. I wonder, what would my father have been like had he lived beyond my childhood? What stories did my grandparents have from their years in foreign diplomacy in the 1920s and throughout their career? They were all gone by the time I reached 20. With my mother, I went to a coffee shop and typed up her stories as she dictated them. But those were only a fraction of her life, no doubt. So many stories. You are fortunate to have time with your father now.

[Helen Jane]

@jyokota so sad to be left speculating, and for you, to loose your father so young. I never knew three of my grandparents and the fourth, a distant memory. I can see why people get into geneology. I did a similar thing with my mother before she died - sat and typed her life story one evening. It was on that night that I learned she had an amputated foot. I know it is beyond comprehension, but she had kept that a secret from us until I was nearly 50!