I am tipping my hat to my mom today. And my grandmas. And my great-grandmas.
How did they handle being sick without easily accessible clips of Big Bird?
I wasn't feeling too hot yesterday, and then this morning I felt like I couldn't open my eyes all the way for the groggy soreness. It just makes me awed at the generations of farmers and laborers and pioneers through my family line. Really, through all history, because I don't know even know all my people too well yet. But I am sure there were times when good old Artemesia Manley Harrison would have loved to stay inside with her babies (her...NINE...babies.) to watch Mormon Messages and listen to music.
It makes me hope that her husband was nice to her like mine is. And that maybe her neighbors helped her out from time to time like mine do. I am sure there was work to be done on her farm; things that couldn't wait until tomorrow--fires to light, food to prepare, tummies to fill. And I bet she did those things, even with headaches or backaches or tiny fevers. But I hope she had things that made her life fuller, and kinder, and happier, too.
I've gotten so soft in my old age. My older-than-I-was-before age.
Also, it's clear I am becoming more mysterious as evidenced by the too many links in this post.
Forgive me.
I'm sick.
How did they handle being sick without easily accessible clips of Big Bird?
(Here is my great-grandma, Hilda Adams,
my mom's mom's mom.
Cute, huh?)
I wasn't feeling too hot yesterday, and then this morning I felt like I couldn't open my eyes all the way for the groggy soreness. It just makes me awed at the generations of farmers and laborers and pioneers through my family line. Really, through all history, because I don't know even know all my people too well yet. But I am sure there were times when good old Artemesia Manley Harrison would have loved to stay inside with her babies (her...NINE...babies.) to watch Mormon Messages and listen to music.
It makes me hope that her husband was nice to her like mine is. And that maybe her neighbors helped her out from time to time like mine do. I am sure there was work to be done on her farm; things that couldn't wait until tomorrow--fires to light, food to prepare, tummies to fill. And I bet she did those things, even with headaches or backaches or tiny fevers. But I hope she had things that made her life fuller, and kinder, and happier, too.
I've gotten so soft in my old age. My older-than-I-was-before age.
Also, it's clear I am becoming more mysterious as evidenced by the too many links in this post.
Forgive me.
I'm sick.
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