Our βCasting a Wider Netβ series features mothers around the world whose voices have typically been excluded from the blogosphere, due to lack of access to the internet, low literacy or poverty. This feature aims to include their important and distinct perspectives with interviews and occasional video clips.
My grandmother, even at 91, never ceases to amaze me.Β She has fought back from accidents and illness, car wrecks and strokes, with unexpected strength and optimism, probably from a deep drive to feel fully engaged in the world. Β When my grandfather, the love of her life, widowed her over 30 years ago, she saw past her grief to discover new joys, taking up folk dancing and beginning a new career as a pre-school teacher.Β Today, her hands shake, the result of essential tremors, but that was beside the point when she decided to take up pottery β a unquestionably physical art formΒ – in her 8th decade of life.Β Her brightly colored ceramic creations fill her small apartment and she makes gifts of them for her 5 grandchildren and growing brood of βgreats.β
But itβs not just her zest that draws you in.Β Sheβs warm, the kind of woman itβs easy to open up to, a good listener and curious question-asker. Itβs probably this quality, along with her undeniably sweet demeanor, that has kept her in companionship since my grandfather passed. Β And itβs this quality that made me want to turn the tables and ask her questions.
I have been interested in interviewing mothers whose voices have been typically excluded from the mom-blogosphere, and her generation of mothers is decidedly absent. I knew my grandmother would have lots to report about how her generation responded to the age-old question of what to do with children. I expected to learn something about all those things that currently thwart and challenge me β how to encourage my baby to sleep, the most effective ways to discipline, how to restore balance in a life thrown out of whack by the demands children. I expected to learn bits of wisdom and insight from generations past.
Instead, I learned about war.
βYou have to understand,β she began, reaching for the defining sentiment of the era, βMany women got married and pregnant quickly, thinking, βI want a part of him to survive.ββΒ That opening immediately reoriented me.Β How could she be expected to remember her favorite ways to soothe a crying baby when the dark cloud of war and death hung over the whole experience threatening to take away a childβs father?
War, separation and cramped and tense family living arrangements defined early motherhood for her.Β Her husband, my grandfather, was a tool and die engineer who worked for Douglass Aircraft.Β His worked deemed essential to the war effort, he was given draft deferment.Β But the shame of walking around, a clearly able-bodied man, in a military town when so many others were fighting abroad, was too crushing.Β He voluntarily enlisted and left for the Pacific when my uncle was only 4 months old.Β It was a decision my grandmother sympathized with at the time.
I wanted to talk about this.Β The separation, the longing for your partner to be home to share your joy at your childβs firsts, the frustrating inability to communicate, the agony of not knowing if he would return to see this same child get older.Β It was almost unthinkable.
But my grandmother was sanguine.Β βDear, there were so many in my same position, so I couldnβt waste time thinking it. Itβs just how life was.βΒ Anyway, she explained, the Pacific was considered a much safer theater at the time, and that gave her some amount of comfort.
Her memories were, instead, of moving back in with her mother, who had just suffered a stroke, her father, and her 12-year-old brother, to become the primary care-taker of all of them as well as her new baby. They were of the difficulties of shrinking her newfound independence to fit back through the doors of her parentsβ home. βIt infantilizes you, to move homeβ she explained, a sentiment I fleetingly experience during my own visits home. Β Her mother, frustrated by her own loss of ability and control over the house, became difficult at just the time my grandmother needed support. The sheer volume of work, the fights with her mother and the loneliness for my grandfather made things βin a word: horrendous.β
But family was also her salvation. When things became too tense at her motherβs house, she would take the baby in the stroller and visit her cousin who lived only blocks away. Β Her son and his cousins would play together while she leaned on the shoulders of her own cousins. Β Around this time, my grandmother was hit by a car and needed a place to convalesce. Β Her sister-in-law took her in, away from the chaos of her mother’s home, and nursed her back to health. Family as at once the point of her struggles and her support. It was her world, and it was difficult to talk about motherhood without talking about extended family.
But there was something curiously absent from our discussion too. Motherhood for her was not deciding among a competing array of parenting styles and philosophies. It was not laboring over every parenting decision.Β As she describes it, all mothers followed the simple and unequivocal advice of doctors.Β Bottle feed and sleep on a schedule. If they cry, let them.Β It was a much more patriarchal society and doctors were at the top of that male hierarchy of authority. Whatever we might think of this, it freed her from having to choose from an array of parenting styles and then fret over the decision, like so many of us do today.Β Β She had other things to fret over. Β And, importantly, so did every other mother she knew.Β The pervasive culture of single mothers moving back in with their parents, normalized her experience somewhat, but didnβt make it any less difficult.
Talking to my grandmother gives my own parenting woes a whole new perspective. I fight over the equal division of housework, but I have a husband around to contribute.Β Sometimes itβs hard to find a moment of privacy, but I live in my own home and can create my own rules.Β Itβs often hard to imagine the future — where weβll move next and what jobs weβll have — but I never worry about opening the front door to be greeted by military officials wearing grave and uncomfortable expressions, delivering the worst possible news.
Like so many in her generation, my grandmother lived through all of this.Β And despite the difficult early years of motherhood, she raised successful compassionate children and retained her abiding zest for life.Β I only hope the same for myself and my own generation.
What have you learned from your own grandmothers about what it was like to parent in their day? Did it surprise you?
This is an original post for World Moms Blog from our writer in Kenya, Kim Siegal, who conducted this interview during her annual visit to family in the U.S. Β You can visit her over at www.mamamzungu.com. Β Photo credit to the author.Β
I love this post Kim – my grandparents were married while my grandfather was on leave and so my grandmother has a similar story. She had some really interesting stories and I wish I had recorded some of them when she was alive.
I can’t even imagine getting married over military leave. Such a different time! And I only hope I can keep getting stories from my grandmother while she’s around. I’m blessed to have her.
Kim, Thank you for this beautiful post. I loved reading abou your grandmother. She is an amazing woman.
I invited my grandmother (now 91) for our GAVI global tea party and I learnt so much about my family, about my ancestors, about my own great grandfaher who was a physician, and how my own grandmother suffered through whooping cough and came out alive, and how she saw diseases getting eradicated through each of the 4 generations she had seen. I wrote about it here – http://www.worldmomsblog.com/2012/07/31/social-good-the-gavi-global-tea-party-in-india/
I mean, we definitely need to showcase the wisdom of these wise people in the blogosphere. You are doing a great job with this Casting a wider net series π
Wow. Sounds like quite the story. I can’t believe I missed it! I’m going to check it out now…
I am struck, reading this post, by the ways in which your grandmother’s experience resonates with yours in Kenya: the extended family (biological or not) who care for children and each other, the ease with which you describe Kenyan mothers taking care of their kids without the “I’M A BAD MOMMY” guilt trips experienced by so many western women. Your grandmother’s ease might have come from living under the thumb of doctors who know better, but nevertheless, in both contexts I hear this sense of eh, you do what you have to do to keep it all afloat. Reminds me that one reason Dr. Spock’s book was so revolutionary was its opening line: “you know more than you think you do,” or something like that– literally telling mothers that in fact they DID know best for their kids. Beautiful post and I would love to hear more of your grandmother’s stories, which you re-tell quite eloquently.
Deb, I TOTALLY agree with those observations! I think modern motherhood is a real anomaly – with all the isolation and choice. It all makes it a lot more difficult. Also good point about how Dr. Spock changed so many dynamics. We were told to finally listen to our instincts, (which was a great thing) but at the same time we didn’t have the insticts/wisdoms of mothers before us because we had been relying on doctors screwed up advice for long. I think it liberated us but also unmoored us in a way. But who knows… Your comment made me just start thinking about this right now. ; )
Kim, this is an outstanding post. Thank you for capturing so eloquently the voices of those outside the blogosphere. It’s so easy to reflect on past generations and thing life was better (or at least simpler) back then when in fact, it was rife with a very different set of complications. I wish I had extended family to raise my children among but I feel blessed in this day of fast and accessible travel that we still get to see them (sometimes in more exotic places than just down the street).
Your grandmother sounds like a beautiful person. I’m happy she’s still here to throw pots and wax nostalgic for her children, grands and greats.
Thanks Kyla! It’s so true. It’s easy to look back with rose colored glasses but the challenges were just different – and how they were interpreted was different. I expected my grandmother’s struggles to be a lot different from those that she mentioned. Of course a lot is sifted through memory, and I’m sure some is lost through that process. But the things which you remember generally are the things which defined the highs and lows in your life.
Wow, Kim, LOVED this post!! π
My Italian grandmother is 88 years old and she was also married during the war. The struggles she went through make ours really pale in comparison! Thank you so much for doing this! God willing, I’ll get the chance to see my grandma again and (when I do) I’ll make sure to take more careful note of her life story. Your grandma sounds totally amazing, by the way!! π
Oh, you should TOTALLY interview your grandmother if you get the chance. Sounds like she has had some pretty profound experiences! I wish I had done this earlier…
How lucky we are! I mean, really, think about it. We have the world at our fingertips and so many resources at our disposal to help us make the right decisions for our family. Choices galore – be it bad or good!
You’re grandmother’s story makes me miss my own amazing grandma who passed away 3 years ago this April. I wish I knew more about her life.
I remember her telling me about her miscarriage one day, when I was about 12. I could tell something was bothering her, since she had a sadness to her presence and so when I asked what was wrong, she told me how she had lost a little girl many years ago. It would have been her birthday. She hugged me tightly and I never forgot seeing that side of my grandma who was always such a happy person.
Going through my own issues with infertility, I feel even closer to my grandma. Thank you for writing this story and connecting me with those wonderful memories. I hope one day to share stories with my granddaughter.
Wow. That gave me chills. It’s amazing how the death of a baby-to-be stays with you over decades. At least she was able to discuss it with you and hopefully find some comfort. And I think about the world our own grand daughters will live in (can hardly fathom) and also that if they are curious about what it was like blogging will be some kind of record for them. I think that thought makes blogging more meaningful for me.
I love this series Kim, and I especially love hearing how different things were back then. It makes me think that I should get my grandmother to tell me her stories (although, she doesn’t ever talk about the past for some reason). I will be sure to ask her next time I see her – thanks for the reminder Kim!
Please ask her! I can’t wait to hear what she says!! : )
Kim,
Bravo! Wonderful piece on your grandmother and the reminder for all of us of her reality. Especially the part about “because she wanted a piece of him to live.” So moving! What a great tribute to her.
Jen π
Yeah, that quote was the most telling part of the interview. It really sucker punched me. I can hardly fathom that mentality that the prospect that your sweetheart might not make it and thinking ahead of giving him a legacy with a child. Cannot. fathom. But that was the reality for so many. (and might be in other places in the world even today…)
What a great perspective! It is an important reminder that not all mothers have the luxury of fretting over everyday motherhood the way mothers who live out of war time and in health do.
Thanks Elizabeth. Yep, we’re pretty lucky for all the things we get to take for granted!
I love this post. My Grandfather enlisted with the Navy and was sent to the south pacific in 1942 when my grandmother was five months pregnant with my mom. She moved in with his parents, who didn’t like her, and had a similar difficult experience, but she said the same thing. It was normal at the time so she just did what she had to do. He was home for about five days when my mom was born, and then had to go back.
I try to imagine it, and understand it, but I think our generation is just too far removed from that time to really grasp it. I know it gave me a huge respect for her, knowing that she came through it with her heart intact. Luckily, my grandfather came home a few years later and they had a long and mostly happy marriage.
I’m very lucky in that she kept all of their letters and photographs that they mailed to each other, and told me so many stories of the time. She wrote down so much in those letters, so I have a beautiful documented history of those first few years of my mom’s life.
Did your grandfather come back?
That’s amazing that you have all those letters and photos – they probably tell quite the story. And, yes, it is incredibly that people endured all of this with and “oh well, that’s how life is” kind of attitude. I guess because.. well… that was life back then and maybe if everyone goes through the same hardship it kind of normalizes it or at least makes it harder to complain about it. And yes, my grandfather came back and they had a wonderful life together. He really was the love of her life. He passed away when I was sick but he lives on in everyone’s memories of him.
Wow. What a touching post. (btw-on a side note, is it just me or at first glance does your grandma remind you of Dr. Ruth? lol)
Interestingly enough, at the conference the other day, Dan Ariely spoke about a point that you made with this paragraph:
As she describes it, all mothers followed the simple and unequivocal advice of doctors. Bottle feed and sleep on a schedule. If they cry, let them. It was a much more patriarchal society and doctors were at the top of that male hierarchy of authority. Whatever we might think of this, it freed her from having to choose from an array of parenting styles and then fret over the decision, like so many of us do today.
What Dan Ariely said was that in societies where doctors are patriarchal (like France) as opposed to not (like USA), even if there is same outcome, the people who did not have to make the decisions were happier. For instance, if the decision to remove someone from life support was doctor’s decision, the family was happier than the family who had to make the decision on their own.
I think the reason so many of us struggle with happiness is the abundance of decisions we need to make.
Oh, I think that is so interesting Susie! I’m reading the book “Paradox of Choice” which touches on this issue. Sure, there’s something liberating about having choice but too many choices and too much outside judgement about your decisions can be crippling. I kind of think this is where we are now with parenting in the modern world.
I loved hearing about your grandmother’s experiences and love her pragmatic..it just was, so we got on with it…approach despite what must have been very stressful daily challenges.
My grandmother is almost 96 and I often wondered at her ability to manage four daughters, washing clothes in a boiling hot copper (imagine toddlers!), preparing food, mending and so on…
But what resonates most with me in this post is the stress of having too much choice in the modern west; perhaps conscious thought isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. π
Totally agree! And maybe it’s heretical to say so, after all, we value freedom and individuality so much in the Western world, but maybe there’s something comforting in not having so much choice, in some of the answers just taken as a given. (though I know there are other trade-offs I’m overlooking….)
My grandmother’s life was similar, too. She moved in with her in-laws while my grandpa was in the Pacific. She never complained about it much, just said it was a difficult time, but she wouldn’t talk about it, either.