At the end of each day my family would gather around the
table to eat supper, my Father always at the head of the table my Mom to his
left and the five kids scattered around the rectangular stainless/formica table
with matching chairs. We said a prayer,
very brief and never led by my father. We
were living in rural Ohio, near Lake Erie on the Little Portage River. My Dad worked construction and my Mom was a waitress. Supper was the only meal of the day where we
all came together, and recounted the day’s events plus we always had new tasks
assigned or reminded of over due ones.
On a typical evening my Mom would insist that the children take two or
three slices of bread prior to sitting down to dinner. At the time I thought she was just trying to
get rid of bread but now it is clear she was trying to fill us up.
As “farm folks” we always had a big garden and the bounty always
found it’s way to our table in the form of fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, green
beans and watermelon.
Looking back I now know we were poor but it never felt like
it, my parents went to great lengths to make our house a home. We always seemed to have what we (children)
needed, celebrated all holidays and generally had a very happy childhood. During
the summer a typical meal would have the garden vegetables and in the winter
the same type of vegetables only canned.
Yes, my Mom canned all sorts of things.
We would often have fish we had caught, ducks we shot or any variety of
wildlife we could find. When we were
lucky enough to have chicken or beef it was very special. So there are seven of
us crowed around the table all with healthy appetites and there would be only
one chicken. My Dad would always go
first and he would always take a breast… At this point you should know that I
was the youngest of five… yes last for everything. Because meat passed from my Dad to the left
where my Mom set, your position at the table was vital for your fair
share. Typically by the time it got to
me I would get a wing or leg, never one of the prime pieces. Seems funny now, if I was feeding seven
people, one chicken would not cut it these days but back then it worked.
I always thought it strange that my Mom’s favorite part of
the chicken was the back and tail… she would make a big deal at the table on
how no one could touch that part of the chicken because that was hers! I always thought, go for it… I hated that
piece, there was never any meat on it but it looked like a regular piece of
chicken. Now with aid of hindsight and a better understanding of Mothers it is
obvious Mom was sacrificing for all of us and doing it in a very magnanimous
way.
I wonder what else my Mom did for her family that I will
never know?
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