Mothers’ Day was a big deal when I was growing up. My dad would take my sister and me to Clinton where there were several ladies shops. We would pick out something pretty for my mom to wear. My grandmothers usually got jewelry; we loved picking it out.
I was lucky enough to grow up with one grandma in Miles and one across the road from my house, a mile north of Miles, right off the road that heads north to Reeseville Cemetery. History lesson: There was once a mercantile store at that first crossroads. Lon Papke’s residence today marks the spot once called Mt. Algor. My fifth-generation family lived on the nearby farm, (big red barns); no doubt the past Erichson families called themselves residents of Mt. Algor.
Most afternoons I rode my bike to my grandma across the road after school with my mother’s admonition not to eat and spoil my supper. Of course, Mom wasted her breath. Chocolate cake with REAL chocolate frosting awaited the twins. I usually saw my other grandma in Miles on Sundays after Sunday school at the Presbyterian Church. She fixed lemonade and read The Bobbsey Twins Wonderful Secret to us. I can’t recall what the wonderful secret was, but I know Grandma was tickled to read us the story whose main characters were twins.
On Mothers’ Day, after celebrating with my mom, we’d visit both grandmas who received the bejeweled gifts. I have two sparkly brooches in my dresser drawer from their jewelry boxes. I love to look at them, and have offered them to my granddaughters to wear on prom night. No go, of course. They don’t look particularly chic on my sweatshirts either, which is about my only attire. They remain a nostalgic treasure hidden away in a drawer, reminding me of Mothers’ Days long ago.
Where does one start when talking about mothers? A very HUGE topic. The things you remember…. When we moved to Hauntown, I was 8 1/2 months pregnant. After we got settled in, the day arrived that I would say, “Get me to the hospital, NOW.” My mom took my 3-year-old daughter and then I sat waiting for the egg to hatch. I looked out the window and saw that my neighbor had placed a big painted wooden stork in my yard, proof that my neighbors were excited for a new baby in the town of 8 houses. The stork announced to people driving through that there was a baby at the Gruhns. So I sat and sat and sat some more; nothing happened. I don’t remember how the stork disappeared, but it did. He was apparently in a holding tank somewhere.
Days later, it was time. My husband took me to Jane Lamb Hospital for the vigil, went down to the Burpee Building in Clinton where he ran things, just to check. With time to spare (ha), he ended up enjoying a bowl of chili in the cafeteria (yes, there was a cafeteria for employees at Burpees) and arrived back at the hospital to meet his newborn son. The stork was back in the yard when I got home.
If the stork is still tucked away in Mark and Kristi’s garage where Vernetta Smith used to live, it could go across the road to my next-door neighbors’ yard. Mothers’ Day will be very special for them this year. Hauntown has recently welcomed a new baby. To all mothers and grandmothers reading this column, you are a blessing, cherished by so many. Never doubt it. Enjoy your day and don’t cook!
