I can't even imagine

Today is Grandma's 93rd birthday. She was born on May 29th, 1911 in Guardia Piemontese, Italy. Her father died before she was born and her mother never remarried because she didn't want a man who wasn't the father to raise the kids. Grandma had two brothers, both of whom came to the US. Her life in Italy was a poor one, where she didn't go to school, but raised chickens and planted gardens so that the family could eat. She learned to bake and to cook for her family. They had open wood fires to keep warm and a small brick house with one room and a dirt floor.

Grandma came to the US in 1933, at the age of 22. My Grandfather had been here for a few years and earned enough money to go back to Italy and marry her and pay her voyage here. They came by ship in those days and it took more than two weeks. They ended up at Ellis Island, with hundreds and thousands of other immigrants. They brought my Great Grandmother with them, so she could live here as well.

She had two sons, my Dad when she was 23 and my uncle two years later. They lived in a shack that they rented from a farmer in upstate NY. My Grandfather worked on the railroads (at that time we were still making new tracks throughout the eastern US) and my Grandmother and her mother raised chickens, planted and harvested a garden, sewed their clothes and cared for the children. They had two or three single, male family members that lived with them off and on while they tried to earn wages to send for their families.

It is so strange to discuss with her how her life was. She would get up at 3:30 in the morning, to find wood and start the wooden stove so that there could be warm water for the men in the morning. She would make coffee and bread for the men to take to work with them and then go on about feeding chickens and pigs, caring for infants and their home. They had no money, so they canned everything they grew and they raised chickens for meat and eggs. At one point they had a goat so that there was milk.

Eventually, my Grandfather changed jobs and went to work at a paper mill in Watertown NY. There he was a foreman. My Grandmother had a beautiful home and they had a backyard which my Grandfather turned into a garden. My Dad grew up in the tiny house on Jefferson Street and we visited there often when I was a child. Her life turned into something I recognize at this point, it turned into making school lunches and cleaning house and walking to the market for groceries. My Grandfather made about $3 a week in wages at one point. They were poor. They never realized it. Through the years they managed to save enough money for a retirement and a savings account, trips to Italy and Brazil, Hawaii and several places here in the US. They knew how to use something until it was useless and they knew not to spend money if they didn't need to. They never had a checking account and paid for everything cash, including a house and a car.

I think of all of the lessons that I have learned from my Grandmother telling me stories of her life and I realize how far that our families have come from their origins. Not only in distance and in priviledge, but in loss of ideals as well. We have so many modern conveniences available to us these days and everything that people "need" is in such abundance that we even have most of what we "want". My Grandmother never wanted more than she needed. They worked hard and were happy because what they had here in the US was already more than they ever imagined having when they were children. They spent all their lives working for a small house with a yard, a car and enough money for furniture. When they had that, they stopped working for more material possessions and began preserving what they had and living their lives. I wonder how to get to that place in my own life.

I am thankful to have a Grandmother who has lived 93 years and even more thankful to have her share some of those years with me.