Tag Archives: Detroit Michigan

A Chilly Spring Day!

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Wow, a bouncing baby girl!  Of course, I really wasn’t bouncing at the time, that came later, but a baby girl, I definitely was!  I think my mother told me that we were in the hospital for two weeks. Can you believe that, two weeks! Now days if you get to stay over night, you’re lucky. Being a nurse myself, I’ve seen new mothers kicked out of the hospital when they were too young to even have a child, didn’t know how to care for it, and needed some extra time with the nurses to help them get comfortable with the care and feeding of an infant. But not us, we got an entire two weeks.

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My parents built a home in Royal Oaks, in the burbs of Detroit.  I recall my mother telling me it was just off of Woodward Rd, or maybe it was Two Mile Road. Either way I’m sure it doesn’t look, feel, or smell the same today. That was more than a half century ago….. things have changed!

 

IMG_2868We had a sweet little home, I remember it well.   Ok, I remember the outside really well because I still have a picture. Lately, I’ve been going through all the old pictures with noting on the back to tell me who they were.   I wish my mother would have written who they were, or where they were taken, it would have been oh so much easier…on me! I have all these pictures of ancient relatives who don’t have any names on the back, and wouldn’t it have been nice to know who they were, and where they were taken?

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For a while I actuarially belonged to a Genealogy Club, trying to learn how to research, and find my heritage. That’s a lot more difficult than one might think. My heritage is English, Irish, and Scotch, two-thirds of them came to Canada on a boat,it could have even been a rowboat, or a blow up boat for all I know. The records are difficult to find, even with help! Eventually, it took up so much time researching dead relatives, that I had to decide if I wanted to sit in front of a computer getting a bubble butt, or did I want to paint. I decided to paint instead, and leave the research to a time when I couldn’t paint, or see to paint. The irony is, if I can’t see to paint, I can’t see to research! I’ll tell you though, it certainly is fun when you can find a lost, and forgotten relative that you knew was there, but had never been ably to locate before!

Ok, Ok enough of the genealogy stuff!  That stuff will come much later…..

 

 

 

 

In The Beginning…

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Huntington Woods

Huntington Woods

Mount Carmel Hospital, Detroit Michigan…May 23, 1943..

Wow a bouncing baby girl! Of course, I really wasn’t bouncing at the time, that came later, but a baby girl, I definitely was! Mother told me that we were in the hospital for two weeks.

Can you believe that, two weeks! Today, if you get to stay over night, you’re lucky. Being a nurse myself, I’ve seen new mothers kicked out of the hospital when they were too young to even have a child, didn’t know how to care for it, and needed some extra time with the nurses to help them get comfortable with the care and feeding of an infant.

But not us, we got an entire two weeks. Little did Mother know that would be the last time she ever had a spa day!  Especially since as the years went by, I was lucky enough to have three more siblings to share Mother, and Dad’s time with!

My parents built a home in Royal Oaks, in Huntington Woods, the suburbs of Detroit. I recall my Mother telling me it was just off of Woodward Rd, or maybe it was Two Mile Road. Either way I’m sure it doesn’t look, feel, or smell the same today. That was more than a half century ago, as I recall (and I’m told), things have changed in the little neighborhood in the suburbs of Detroit, and probably not for the better either!

We had a sweet little home, I remember it well. Ok, I remember the outside really well because I still have a picture. Lately I’ve been going through all the old pictures with nothing on the back to tell me who, what, or where they were taken. I wish my Mother would have written all those facts down, it would have been so much easier,   on me! I have all these pictures of ancient relatives who don’t have any names on the back of their photos, and wouldn’t it have been nice to know who they were?

For a while I actually belonged to a Genealogy Club, trying to learn how to research, and find my (dead relatives) heritage. That’s a lot more difficult than one might think. My heritage is English, Irish, and Scotch, two-thirds of them came to Canada on a boat.  It could have even been a rowboat, or a blow up boat for all I know. The records are difficult to find, even with help! Eventually, it took up so much time researching dead relatives, that I had to decide if I wanted to sit in front of a computer getting a bubble-butt, or did I want to paint. I decided to paint instead, and leave the research to a time when I couldn’t paint, or see to paint. The irony is, if I can’t see to paint, I can’t see to research!   And, I think I still have a bubble-butt….. from blogging! I’ll tell you though, it certainly is fun when you can find a lost, and forgotten relative that you knew was there, but had never been able to locate before!

That happened when I found my great-uncles in Nova-Scocia. I knew they had been there on the family farm, I knew they were siblings of my grandmother. I had visited the farm with my parents when I was a baby, and I had also visited with my Dad in the summer when we were in Michigan with family. Upon finding my uncles, you would have thought Readers Digest had knocked on my front door with a check (hopefully for me) for $10,000,000. Can you imagine?

Ok, Ok enough of the genealogy stuff!  And dreaming!

Later I’ll tell you a little more. Stick with me, the best is yet to come…..

Day 20: A Treasured Old Friend!

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Once upon a time, in a state far to the midwest  (from California that is), near a large body of water, at a time almost too long ago to mention, just after my birth…..I took a buggy ride with my mother pushing all the way!  Phew that took the wind out of me. I was very small, but old enough to go for walks, and eventually…go shopping with my mother.

Mother, & myself in my English Carriage

Mother, & myself in my English Carriage

Before I was born, my parents bought me a very large, Black English Perambulator… because that’s what they did in those days.  It was probably large enough for Mother to climb into, and take a nap with me should the occasion arise –  to my knowledge, that never happened!

We started out walking around the neighborhood on the very mildest, and most beautiful  days of July…  Since I was born the 23 of  May, I’m sure  we never left the house for at least six weeks after my birth. Who knows…maybe longer!

Things were different in those days, everything was different.   Hospital stays after giving birth were ridiculously long, something like two weeks.  If I had to stay in the hospital for two weeks after having my children, I would have chewed my arm off out of boredom!  But… I’m guessing that didn’t happen in those days.  On the other hand, sometime after being sleep deprived for several months, it would have been really nice to spend two weeks in the hospital being pampered!  I’m told…you can’t have it all!

I’ll bet you’re wondering if the Perambulator was my treasured friend?

Maybe at the time…but NO!    When we would take a walk, people would want to look in and see the baby (that would be me).  My poor mother would cringe at the thought of anyone touching, or breathing on her prized possession (again, that would be me)!   It was quite a conundrum because, Mother really wanted to show me off to all her friends, and even the people who would soon be her friends because, I was so cute, and they would tell her so!  Finally, Mother quickly realized that netting placed gingerly over the entire carriage would solve this problem, and then, and only then would she be able to show me off  without having to constantly tell them not to touch the baby (me).  After many walks around the block, with Mother prancing all the way,  we finally made our way to downtown Detroit. Maybe I forgot to mention being born at the Mount Carmel Hospital in Detroit Michigan.  This was in the early forties, and since then the hospital has been torn down with the newest of hospitals, probably state of the art,  being built-in it’s place.

Mount Carmel Hospital

Mount Carmel Hospital

On this particularly perfect day in September, Mother and I packed up all our gear, and proceeded to walk into downtown Detroit to a large department store by the name of JL Hudson’s.  Now,  this store was the place to go if you were anyone, and we were anyone!  I’m sure Mother packed diapers, bottles, rattles, blankets, and anything, and everything …just in case.  Just in case, because you never know….  As we wound our way around the  wooded streets of Royal Oaks, in the suburbs I could smell the fresh air, and hear the rustling of the trees.  After a while, the noise was getting louder, and louder…apparently from all the traffic when we reached  the city.

JL Hudson’s

I snoozed off and on while Mother huffed and puffed her way along the busy city streets.  Finally we reached Hudson’s, and I must say it was BIG!  Never in my entire life had I seen anything so big as this store, except maybe Mount Carmel Hospital, and I really didn’t see very well at the time!

Mother managed to get the carriage into the front door of the store, but negotiating the perfume counter with a large English Carriage was a challenge for even the most determined of mothers.  We did it, and got there in one piece too!  As we rolled through the store, nothing was broken, we only had a few bumps along the way, but Mom did great, I was so proud of her for her determination, and energy, because I was exhausted just thinking about it!

Since I didn’t have any idea why we went to this particular store, on this particular day in September,  with the exception of, it being the place to go, I was excited to find out the purpose of our adventure.  This is something I have reflected on over the many years of my life…  what is the purpose of my adventure in life?

Quickly Mother managed to get my Buggy up to the floor where all the toys were on display, and before long we were deep in thought about …toys, stuffed to be exact!    Mother stopped at one table after the other, each having lots of stuffed animal toys sitting just there for me to look at.  As  Mother was searching  each, table,  and every stuffed toy, or maybe I should say animal,  a huge crowd of ladies engulfed my buggy, and the ooh’s and awes began.  “What a beautiful baby, how old is she?” one woman asked?  “What did you name her?” asked another?  “How long were you in labor?”  yet another asked.  The questions kept coming, and Mother answered with great pride.

But on the other end of things…

It won’t surprise you when I say…..the faces were terrifying,  BIG noses,  BIG eyes, LOUD voices, and the smell of stagnant perfume just about gagged me!  They kept looking at me from all angles, like I was a strange bug or something.  I began to cry….louder,and…Louder, and…LOUDER!   Finally Mother had to excuse us, and we took a little ride around the store, just to get away.   Boy was I happy to get away from all those Looky Loos!

When things had calmed down, we took another pass at the  stuffed toy tables, and with each of these furry creatures Mother would show me,  I simply couldn’t see the fascination. Some of them were stiff, and unfriendly, some were dark and foreboding.  Finally out of clear, and total exasperation I was shown one last stuffed animal, and do you know what?  My little legs and arms started bouncing around,  and I started talking to this lanky ball of fur. Mother was so happy, I could see it on her tired, worn-out face.   At that point, before I knew what was happening, the carriage started moving, and off we went – to a place I’d never seen before – soon  I found myself sharing my carriage with a  creature covered in  brown and white fur, little black BB eyes, a tiny little brown nose and tail, long legs and arms.  Mother told me this was my new friend, and I have to say I was really excited to have him with me.  Now I wouldn’t have to be alone all night in that big room.  Oh it looked nice, it was pink and frilly, but it was big and lonely being in there all night by myself.

After much thought, I named him Teddy!

Teddy quickly became by best friend, he stayed with me all the time. Mother even allowed me to take him to the doctors when I had to go.  Teddy had floppy ears, and he would sing to me at night after everyone would go to bed.  No matter what happened,  Teddy was there for me.

One day something terrible happened!  This was after he helped me learn to eat vegetables, and walk.  Something even more horrible than eating peas, and green beans, something worse than anything I could have ever imagined!

I had competition!!!

Yep you guessed it – That Friggin’ stork dropped a bundle of  “Pain in the ass”  down the chimney!  Well, let me tell you…my world changed forever, and not for the better either!  Teddy was there through it all.  He wiped my tears, he talked me out of  dripping oatmeal all over the PIA’s head.  I’m telling you Teddy probably saved my life…more than once!

That kid didn’t stop yapping for years!  All through growing up….yap – yap – yap!  Even my parents would complain about how this kid would never stop yapping!  But what are you going to, they couldn’t send it back!

Well in the middle of all that yapping…it happened again, and once more after that!

Crap will this ever stop?  You guessed it again…another yapper!  Two more to be exact, one shortly after the other.  It exhausts me even telling this story, but somebody has to tell it.

What happened next?

In the middle of all that yapping, I had to something to keep myself busy, and distracted from the gaggle of yappers.  Lining up all my dolls, and stuffed animals, I would hold school.  Each of them would contribute to my class but the one who contributed the most was Teddy.  He must have known my need for teaching, or maybe the need for standing on a soapbox would be more accurate!  Teddy sat there like an “A” number one student, and was every teachers dream.

Later in life,  Teddy was with me through my Sweet “16” Birthday Party, through all the dances, my heart breaks,  and  my  triumphs.  Never did he turn his back on me, and he never offered advise, unless I asked him for it.  When I married he sat in the middle of our bed…this in my eyes was an act of bravery, and protection!  He was there through divorces,  marriages, and  remains with me.

Teddy has been with me all these years, remaining loyal, and trustworthy!

He is my best friend, my oldest friend, and my Treasured Friend!