That Night

Chapter 1

It was a cold night in March with slush still on the streets in North Eastern Ohio. The year was 1953, I was eight years old. We lived in a three-story home built in the early 1900s. I am an only child, very close to my Mama. My Father was leaving for work on the midnight shift. I always slept with my Mama when my Daddy worked this shift, and my Mama said she felt safer with me next to her.

Daddy gave us both a kiss goodbye and said to me, “Abigail take care of your Mama.” Sometime in the middle of the night, I awoke with the sight of my Grandma walking around with her arms piled high with our coats. My aunt Norma and uncle Claude were busy gathering things, and my Mama said she thought she had everything except the money buried in the basement! I thought, “Money buried in the basement?” It’s probably in that coal room, no one ever goes in there. Very dark and dirty.

Eventually, we were packed into my uncle’s car, heading to my Grandma’s house across town. What was happening? I wish my Daddy were here, he would know what to do with this problem.

My Mama went to bed and did not get out of bed for several days. She claimed she had no bones because her sister June had stolen her bones! I knew that wasn’t true, was it? No one can steal her bones. Mama also wouldn’t talk to me. She would just stare at me with her green eyes. I would walk into her room and say,” Mama, Mama, answer me,”— but she said nothing, only that blank stare. Once in a while, I would hear her laughing like she heard a funny joke. I would run down the hall and say, “What’s so funny, Mama.” She would not say a word.

Mama’s name was Marian, pronounced like Mari-on. She was the second oldest of her sisters. Grandma had five daughters, Virginia, Mama, Norma, June, and Joanne. Joanne was the youngest twenty years younger than my Mama. My Daddy’s name was Loren, but everyone called him Bud.

Grandma was from the Bavarian region of Europe. She had long braids that crisscrossed the crown of her head, she had the most beautiful flower gardens, and I would help with the weeds. I spent a lot of time in her garden. It was always a favorite place of mine. Her name was Verbal, a very unusual name. I have never heard that name, and perhaps it’s a popular name in Europe.

Bread making was almost daily, and Grandma would holler up the staircase, “Abigail, bread making time,” A favorite activity. She was short with pudgy hands, and she would play the piano. One of my very favorite things for her to do. Everyone in the family loved for her to play. Mama even got out of bed when she played some of her favorite songs.

Mama has been going to the Doctor, and she will be going to the State Hospital in order to get well. Daddy says we’ll be living with Grandma until the end of the school year! Oh No! I’ll have to change schools. Grandma’s house isn’t that big, and Joanne is in the eighth grade, and I’ll have to sleep with her. Daddy said, “Don’t complain,” I didn’t say a word. I loved being with my Grandma. Joanne had Polio when she was seven years old, and for some reason, she still wet the bed, but I didn’t say anything…

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Well, folks, that’s it for this visit. Come back often to continue our story, and in the meantime, there are many other interesting reads on Substack. Thanks for joining me on this journey.

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