A Blog About the Blog

Today is my birthday. I celebrate with my friends and family all day and into the night. But I pause to realize that I actually celebrate my life every single day, and I wonder why I was so lucky to have been born in the time and place that resulted in this wonderful life. I read a blog about what it’s like to grow up in poverty, with parents who may be doing their best, but simply aren’t able to provide a loving stable home for their children. Please read this blog: https://www.thisappalachialife.com/single-post/2017/05/10/My-Mother-Wasnt-Trash then return here to read my story.

SERIOUSLY, STOP HERE AND READ THE BLOG!

I think I’ve figured out some of the factors that made my simple life actually the most extravagantly blessed upbringing. In a nutshell:

• ·         An intact loving family with steady middle class employment, and a safe place to live
• ·         Well defined values, including a strong sense of family, work ethic, and understanding that one is obligated to give back in some way
• ·         Good genes, access to adequate health care, and no complications such as addiction or mental illness

I was born in the 1950’s, an era my sister and I refer to as a “bubble in time.” We had a traditional American middle class family, with a mom & dad, 2 girls and a boy. Our dad went to work every day, but still had time and energy to serve as a Boy Scout leader, farm the land out back (2/3 of an acre with a fruit orchard and row after row of raised beds), and to serve the church as a deacon and choir member. We had a very talented mom who fixed healthy meals every night, using produce grown in our yard. She didn’t have a job outside the home until later in life, but served tirelessly doing every imaginable sort of charity work. She was the PTA president, sewed our clothes and majorette costumes, sang in the church choir, made elaborate wedding cakes for friends and fancy birthday cakes for us, sewed doll clothes for the Goodwill, and did errands for a housebound neighbor.

Janes family, 1957

My dad was told as a young man that he would never get out of a wheelchair. I guess he showed them! He had one leg substantially shorter than the other, and had no hip joint on that side, causing him to have to swing his leg along rather than take steps. He worked as a crane operator for many years, eventually retiring on disability at age 55, when he was able to get a hip replacement and start a new chapter of his life. In his later years he did volunteer work for a local food bank and continued to farm in the back yard. He always loved to travel, particularly on budget cruises, or in cheap motels. “Thrifty” doesn’t even come close to describing the care with which he spent his money. But that came from his own upbringing. It’s a family legend that one of his sisters was so thrifty that when the knees of her jeans wore out, she’d turn them around and wear them the other way! My dad built our house around an existing shack, using scavenged materials. We never got an allowance as kids. If we wanted money, we had to work for it. So all three of us worked various jobs through our teen years.

My dad, 1968

Education wasn’t a priority in our family. Although our mom was an excellent writer, she never had the opportunity to go to college. She was married at age 17. When it came time for me to decide what to do after high school, my parents had virtually no input. They simply had no experience or expectations about college. My sister went to San Jose State for a bit after high school, but dropped out to travel the world. She eventually became a stewardess. (Yes, back then, that was an acceptable title for what we now know as flight attendants.) My brother became an operating engineer like our dad. He joined the Navy Seabees. I scoped out the options, and just knew I wanted to get away for college. So I looked for the most economical way to do that. I opted to attend Sacramento State College, handling room & board with a job as a live-in nanny for my cousin. It wasn’t a good fit, because she and I had different ideas on what made an ideal living space. I eventually found shared housing with other college students, and paid for it by working at a department store and a donut shop. I also figured out that I could save a whole year of cost by picking an easy major, challenging courses for credits, and going to summer school. So in 3 years, I graduated with honors, with a degree in Social Welfare, and a minor in music, and no student debt. The most interesting thing about the education was that my mom decided to go to summer school with me. She never had the chance to try out college, and that seemed to her like a safe way to do it. We took 2 classes together, and she aced them both. So that fall when I went back to Sacramento, she continued on at West Valley Community College where she got an AA in Accounting, graduating on her 50^th birthday.

Graduation day, 1975

I had an excellent career, although it did require a return to school to get some training for a job that might actually pay a living wage. I became a CPA, married a solid guy, and raised a family of 3 sons, much in the way I was raised. It wasn’t a Herculean task. It was just living my life the way I had been taught by my parents. And now we have our first grandchild, with hopes that she, too, will enjoy a simple life.