We collect Turn Of The Last Century children’s activity books, and some of the activities – taxidermy, anyone? – are a bit questionable now, while some of them – making candy and kites, “nutting parties” – are sadly rather lost. And that’s the way time goes, I guess, sweetness getting left behind along with all of the long-gone horrors. You can still do these things with your kids, but there’s an odd-element of playacting as you do, since we can only raise our children in the time we’re living in now…. I mean, I could wear a corset and a Victorian gown as day-wear but I don’t, and my children would look at me equally strangely were I to suggest we take up our baskets and gather nuts in the woods. Time passes and we change.
I read a quote a few days ago that said, more or less, that anyone born after 1914 would never know what a truly happy childhood was. – which I think is hogwash, really. One great-great grandmother in our family tree lost three of her four children in a week to some illness that children are now immunized against, and I think that she would likely have much rather have raised her children now. But that’s talking about mothers and not children, I guess.
The Baby seems to be having a happy enough childhood so far, but lately her siblings seem just miserable. Perhaps in our house it’s still 1909 or whatever the Magical Happy Childhood Year was, but step outside and it’s 2009 and they must deal with it. There’s nothing quite as misery-inducing as having unhappy kids, I find. And then there’s the medicine – The Girl alone takes four different kinds in the morning, some for her poorly-controlled asthma (speaking of stress, there’s that) and another for her anaemia and a fourth odd vitamin mixture that her doctor insisted on, and the medicine tastes awful and it’s just a horrible way to start her day, although she doesn’t complain.
“You need to make dessert more often,” The Girl’s doctor said at her last visit, which made me crack up. At MY last visit, the doctor told me that I should eat dessert far less frequently than I do, so apparently I’m going to be sentenced to a tragic fate – making custards and bread puddings and puddings and cakes that are never destined to be eaten by me. But I’m not the one who weighs 50 meagre pounds and so ever since, I’ve been making eggy, milky, buttery desserts in the kitchen – and eating celery. In fact, this dessert is bubbling away in the slow cooker right now, getting ready for a rapturous response this evening after supper.
“You should be glad you live now,” the doctor told me. “One hundred years ago, she’s just the sort of child who would have had tuberculosis.”
And with that, the image of long-ago nutting parties comes to my mind, autumn woods filled with laughing children carrying baskets and the aching spaces where some of the children should have been, a time that would be remembered – by those who survived – as happy.
It was never easy to lose a child or a sibling. I vividly remember visiting a family cemetery with my grandfather, and he pointed out the graves of his young brother and sister, both taken by the 1918 influenza epidemic, both under 2 years old. “I don’t remember ever seeing my father smile again after those babies died,” he said. And then he cried. That was in 1998 – eighty years later and he still felt the pain of losing his siblings sharply enough to cry about it.
This is beautiful writing.
In regards to Minnesota mom’s comment that back-in-the-day it was common to lose a sibling and not think too much of it, I agree that people must have found a way to cope with the more pervasive snatch of the grim reaper, but I can’t help thinking that the one-of-four children left behind in Beck’s great-great-grandmother’s family must have grieved a great deal. My four children are a great source of joy in each other’s lives and I feel sure they would miss each other terribly.
Once for a college course in “folklore” I interviewed my grandfather talking about his life. He talked about his younger sister who, when she was three, was taking lunch to her father out in the fields. Crossing a very shallow creek, she fell and then got caught with her face in the water and drowned in just a few inches of water. My grandfather was in his late 70s or 80s when he told me this story and he wept as though it had happened the week before.
Rebecca, this is really really good. But then you knew that, didn’t you?
This is me making rapturous sounds at my computer, ’cause the poetry in this is fine fine fine!
(And are kids are living that happy anyway, aren’t they, in spite of 2009 and stupid tv and malls!)
I just loathe making brownies that I cannot eat. There is something so sad about this. I keep a sad count in my head…a couple of days ago, I had one brownie, Emma had 3, Nina 4, and my husband 4…the world is so unjust now 🙂
Each of my grandparents lost a sibling at a young age to some common (back then) disease and didn’t really think much of it. It’s so strange that it was normal to have 5 or 6 siblings and have one die in childhood.
I have very happy memories of my 1980s childhood, but I get “nostalgic” for times I never lived. I hope to get a post up about that soon…
I’m sure that I wouldn’t be here if I had been born in 1909, and my first child would not have survived birth either. So yeah, now is much better.
Were we not living in these times, I’d never have had children to live to see childhood. I think they’re happier to be here than not. Of course, they’re not in the teen years when they’re going to scream at me, “I didn’t ask to be born!”
I can’t imagine raising my children back then, before immunizations. I grew up in the 50’s and had a wonderful childhood. I think my kids, who grew up in the 80’s, would say they had a wonderful childhood. I’m thinking whoever wrote that quote should not write quotes. 🙂
Oops, sorry for the double comment – it didn’t show up the first time I posted it! Now I have a triple comment…
Beautiful post. I’m so glad we live in the modern age, with medicine and vaccinations (controversial, I know). It’s heartbreaking to think of the child mortality rates “back then” but also makes you thankful for what you have.
This is a beautiful post. I’m so glad we live in the modern age, despite some of the drawbacks like how I will likely never feel safe with having them walk to school by themselves. Modern medicine and vaccinations (I know that’s controversial, but I am happy to have them) – what can you say when you think of the child mortality rates back in the Victorian age. It’s heartbreaking to think of and yet it makes you thankful for what you have.
I often think about the fact that most of us wouldn’t be alive in the time before antibiotics. (Nice and morbid, aren’t I?
So not fair about the desserts. I know how you feel because I am trying not to eat sweets AS MUCH in order to lose a few pounds so my clothes will fit better. Although a doctor hasn’t prescribed any for my kids (Miss Pink is thin, though; we’ll see at her next visit).
I love the way you tied that story neatly in a bow – I wasn’t expecting it at all!
The 70s were a decent time to be a little kid, despite a rash of unfortunate haircuts.
good recipe – reasonable amount of sugar.
(oh hey, if my kids complain about their childhood, maybe it’s because I halve the sugar in all of my recipes.)
Papoosie Girl is 69 pounds at 8 – yikes. Your doctor sounds interesting, glad that all of you are doing well and if dessert is part of that even better.
We (our family and kids) would have been just the types to make it 100 years ago. We are a hearty bunch. Not that I would want to try…
Glad you are feeling more than a bit better.
EXACTLY. And our doctor prescribed chocolate milk instead of plain milk for our skinny children. When they were littler, we even used half-n-half instead of milk. Now they are beefing up nicely.
Your doctor sounds like my mother, full of questionable “be grateful” tips.
Bread pudding is the ultimate temptation.
Bren, my doctor was trying to cheer me up – she was saying that The Girl was lucky to live now, when she has a good chance of being healthy.
Wow. Your doctor is really a harbinger of good tidings, isn’t she? Hmph. I think I would’ve issued some inner retort along the lines of ‘Well, one hundred years ago, you would been at home milking your cow and churning butter not dishing up medical opinions, so there!’
I need a doctor who prescribes dessert as well! Sarah’s only 50lbs but she’s 8 so I don’t know if that makes a difference. She is awfully skinny though. Thankfully she’s fond of Apple Betty and Vanilla Ice Cream so I think I can convince her to eat more fruit and dairy 😉
(I use the recipe in canada’s best slowcooker recipe book but I add oats to it because it’s too pasty without them)
I’m still hoping a novel materializes from your keyboard.
I love your writing.
I often think it would have been wonderful to live back then, but the thought of losing my children is a huge deterrent for sure!
I love your macabre, yet so beautiful, true, and romantic take on the world. I just can’t get enough of it. Your stories remind me of these old red storybooks my grandmother had in her home, volumes and volumes of story collections, bound in hardback like encyclopedias that I used to pour over on visits. You have the same style as some of my favorite stories, the ones I would save for rainy days.
(that’s a compliment, in case you can’t tell)
I know my KayTar wouldn’t have made it either in those days. It is a heavy thought, isn’t it?
It would be terrible to be a mother before modern medicine. Ilove that The Girl’s doctor’s prescription includes more dessert.