That is how I got here!
By Carol C. Harder
Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I see the white hair of – yes – a senior citizen.
And, looking at my sisters, I recognize the same.
How did we get to this point in our lives seemingly so quickly?
Wasn’t it just last week we were young girls savoring life on the farm by Westbrook?
Didn’t Mother just take her four girls shopping for material with which to sew our 4-H clothing projects?
For weeks, the dining room table in our farm home was our “work station.” Bolts of fabric were draped over the chairs – and pattern pieces, like wispy gossamer – floated through the air.
Throughout our cutting and stitching, the heat of a Minnesota summer was not dismissed by modern-day air conditioning. Beads of sweat would form on our brows as we maneuvered seams, zippers, collars and plackets. To help us keep cool, our feet were always bare. (This, of course, also meant were were occasionally subjected to the sharp pokes of stray stick pins). Peals of laughter from the trio of on-lookers would rise as the poor one hopped on one foot while trying to pull out the errand poker.
And then there were those wonderful slumber parties for just us sisters. The upstairs of our farmhouse held three bedrooms and a bathroom. On special nights, we would unanimously agree to all sleep together in the “north room.” The large quarters of that room easily fit two double beds – perfect for the four of us – making for wonderful “sister time.”
Of course, Mother and Daddy’s bedroom was nearby, and they always heard the door to that room open. I had been given strict instructions by my three older sisters to always give Daddy the proper answer to his bellowed question, “Who’s there?” “Just a little mouse,” was the right response. I could hear a chuckle in his voice calling after me as I ran up the steps from the kitchen with a jar of olives, taking two at a time, “You girls settle down now.”
With olive pits lining the beds’ headboards, standing attention like teeny tin soldiers, the four of us would drift off to sleep.
In the morning, cows would need to be brought in from the pasture for milking. With no brothers, we girls had the responsibilities of feeding the chicken, steers, sheep and pigs. And that would be the start of another new day.
It all seems like just yesterday – that life of childhood.
All of us will eventually come to the end of our lives here on earth – there is no escaping that reality. And, in the end, there will be a grave marker indicating our past presence.
It is family that has the greatest impact upon us – the family were were born into and grew up with – and the family we later grow into through marriage. It is the continuous way of life.
Yes, it is truly all about family – yours, mine and ours.
And, in the end, truthfully speaking – that is how I got here!