It must have been
wonderful for them to have a relationship filled with such love. At
this time, my mother, dad and I were the only ones living at home.
My mother's funeral was held at home in the front room which was
called the parlor in those days. It was a common practice to hold
funeral services in the home at that time. As I was 19 years old,
playing baseball, working and in love with the girl next door, the
full impact of my mother's death did not hit me until years later.
Like I suppose everyone else feels, I now regret not doing more for my
mother to have made her life more enjoyable and easier for her.
When I was in high school I went to a Dr. Brockmayer who had an office
on Chapin Street almost down to Main St. His office was in his house,
in the front room. The charge was either a dollar or two. He had a
large roll top desk with a bushel basket beside it. When anyone paid,
he would throw the money into the basket. I can still see that basket
about half full of $1 bills.
After my mother died, my father and I tried having a housekeeper but
that didn't last long and we decided to keep house for ourselves. Dad
did the cooking and as near as I can remember we ate pork chops and
canned peaches most of the time. I did the washing and ironing and I
could do the shirts quite well. My father had a big oak roll top desk
he used for all his book-keeping. He saved dimes in a codfish box with
a slot in the cover.
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