This weekend I spent time with my mother reading through diaries kept by my great-grandfather, great-grandmother, great aunt and grandfather. I also had a chance to look through wills, pages of household bookkeeping, military records and more.
My great-grandfather fought in both the Boxer Rebellion and the Spanish-American War. A couple of his diaries detailed entries from his time in the Phillipines; another recorded the death and burial arrangements of my great-grandmother. In the same journal, he put down for posterity who had been bequeathed her diaries. They were split among two sisters and her children. That is how important these little books were to this side of my family.
I watched my mother’s face as she found entries about her and her parents, especially when she found a very special sentence, “Baby walks.” It meant something special to her. As it should.
These people took time to record the daily weather, how their health was faring, car servicing, train rides, parties, wash day, how much was spent on clothing and groceries, etc. I was astounded to find a record of grocery shopping split into two areas - $.96 for groceries and $.15 for meat. I can’t recall the year of this particular diary, but they spanned 1898 to 1940, with several years missing.
Although this side of the family is German and there’s not much emotion in the writings, I could clearly sense my great-grandfather’s grief as he recorded the death and final arrangements for his wife. I found my great-aunt Esther, in her youth, a bit more effusive. Every once in awhile, she added an exclamation mark, referred to having a good time or happiness to see a friend. There is one diary of a three month-trip back east (they lived in Burlingame) and I plan on reading through the whole thing the next time I visit my folks.
The most remarkable thing about reading of my relatives’ lives is the realization that I haven’t done a very good job recording my own life for my kids and theirs. I, the writer, have been neglectful. How joyful would it have been for them to read about themselves as babies? All I can do now is write from a historical perspective, which I do once in a while.
I’ve taught classes on writing your own life story, which I heartily recommend, but even better would be putting in the time it takes to record a few words daily on the wonders of our own lives, which unfortunately rarely feel wondrous to us at the time of living them.
Just a word of thanks to those who went before – it made a difference to me – and someday there will be others who chance upon them and realize that life was so much different then and yet so much the same.
No comments:
Post a Comment