Sunday, December 21, 2008
I have assorted vignette-type flashback memories of life on our farm before my Dad died on October 31, 1967 after a motor vehicle accident at work. (See Fathers and Daughters, and My Father’s Death in Memoirs).
Following his death, we sold the farm and lived with my mother’s brother and his family for a few months. I think this was also a small apartment with one or two bedrooms. Then we lived on our own in a tiny apartment on the second floor of a house two doors down from the Finnish Lutheran church. It had a bedroom, hallway, a tiny kitchen, and bathroom that we shared with another Finnish family on the same floor.
I was beginning to learn English at the same time as my mom, by watching Captain Kangaroo, Mr. Dress-Up, and the Friendly Giant. Over time, my mother would speak only Finnish to us, so we’d retain it, and we’d answer in English, so she’d learn it. It’s still that way, unless I need to tell her a secret.