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**Visit Beverly to join the Valentine Party....
When I think of a love story, other than my own, I first think of my maternal grandmother and grandfather. My "Granna" adored her husband and he loved her! Even when he was bed ridden with a stroke and broken hip at 90 and could not speak, tiny, energetic Granna in her late 80's took all the care of him and you could see the love and trust between these two even then...
Granna and Grandpa lived in NE Iowa in a tiny town called Alta Vista. It was a ways from where we lived in Omaha, Nebraska and so visits were in the summer, and not every summer, at that. When we did get to go we usually went by train. It was a great adventure and it was a trip filled with joy and great expectations....I was never disappointed.
My grandfather was a Quaker and lived as such. Being a medical doctor, with his degree from the University Of Iowa, he was what we refer to today as an old fashioned family doctor. He had a sleigh in the long barn/garage. As a child I was fascinated with the graceful black sleigh that had a modern car sitting next to it. Such a contrast...
When the phone would ring, a wall phone that you had to crank to get out, it was usually someone that needed his help out on one of the farms. Grandpa could never turn anyone away. During blizzards, he would get the sleigh out and Betsy their horse and take off covered in mounds of blankets with his bag. It took hours sometimes to reach the one in need and I always wondered how he did not get lost. When the weather was good, he often took my Grandmother as she was a registered nurse....I heard wonderful stories, both with happy endings and with sad endings....Both of my grandfathers were doctors and their wives registered nurses....
Granna was not only a wife, mother to four and nurse, she was a speaker and well known in her area. She loved poetry and reading and did many readings at the local library and the church at special functions.
A red leather journal...
This journal starts in March of 1909, and tells of their journey to Philadelphia. My mother was eight months old.
In this precious olde journal are faded newspaper clippings and a letter from her to me in 1959 written on pretty paper with pink flowers...
They had four children. Three girls and one son. The second oldest being my mother.
When WWl started, Grandpa, knowing they would need doctors, signed up immediately, with my Grandmothers blessing. They did not see each other for five years. Grandpa was at an Army camp in the South and later shipped to France.
During that long and difficult period, my grandmother learned to manage every aspect of their home as well as the cows and horses. Grandpa wanted to hire a man to do the work and my tiny grandmother refused. She learned and did it all. She looked forward to each letter as Grandpa did not come back until the end of the war...How many couples, today, could survive that? Their love and relationship is also a testimony to values that were common place in America at that time....as I sit here and reminisce I feel blessed to have had them for grandparents and blessed I have such happy sunny and loving memories
My Grandfather, being a Quaker, refused to carry a weapon of any kind. He received awards and medals for his bravery as in the hail of bullets he, with his orderlies, and carrying a stretcher went out in the battle field to tend to the wounded. He was never wounded, but he did have orderlies shot right by him.
The stress of never turning away a person in need ruined his health. When he was in his late 70's he had to give up his practice. His son and family, in San Diego, California, came and after everything was auctioned off, took my grandparents to live in California. They purchased a nice little home first in Ramona and later, after a stroke and broken hip they went to live by their son in one of his nice apartments on his property.
Granna lovingly took such good care of Grandpa. At first he was in the Naval Hospital in San Diego. He developed a deep bed sore and the doctor was at a loss as to why they could not heal it....Granna asked to have him brought home. A hospital bed was set up in the sunny living room and Granna healed those sores! She made his food and then would puree it and feed it to him.... Grandpa died on my oldest sons third birthday...he was 95 years old.
This picture was taken in La Jolla, California in the lovely Scripps Park...see the adoring look....
I hope you enjoyed my not so short tale and I wish you a loving and happy Valentines day!
Smiles and hugs,
Jil ♥
