Mother's Safe

Geneological research is time consuming and fascinating.  Writing pieces for this blog has encouraged me to attempt to write an oral history for G4 and  G5.  My cousin, Caroline, has labeled our family's  generations so conversations will be easier and sorting photos much easier.  She is the brainy one of the group and has a creative mind as well.    G1:  My grandparents or relatives older, G2:  my parents, aunts, uncles,  cousins of theirs, G3:  me, my siblings and cousins  G4:  our children, cousins, etc  G5: our grandchildren, great nieces, etc.    So many stories are lost to me before I begin.  My search is not for facts, ages, or dates, but for the story of how the generations are connected.  Sometimes one must look at the facts, ages and dates to have a point of reference.  The search for a point of reference led me to my mother's safe.  I always knew mother had a safe but never asked to know what valuables were kept there.  Privacy in a large family is held in high regard.  As I never rummaged through my mother's purse or her drawers, I would never have dared to explore her safe.  I was aware that as arthiritis had begun to  ravage my mother's hands she had  stopped wearing her rings and put them in her safe.  Other than that I was unsure of the mysteries hidden in the safe.

The hunt for my parent's birth certificates, passports and social security cards sent Lindsey and I on the mission to find these items.  We first searched secretaries, secret drawers, and some very obvious hidy holes.  This part of the search produced multiple children's social security cards, immunization records, report cards, newspaper articles, various historic legal documents and a multitude of disjointed photographs.  We were also delighted to find a baggie full of handwritten recipes.  These were written on envelopes, receipts, and anything mother had available for jotting on. We have hidy holes yet to explore.   Our hunt led us to the safe.  We first were granted permission to explore the safe by my father.  We found the usual coins, silver certificates, deeds, titles, etc.  We found mother's birth certificate, passport and social security card.  Dad's were not in the safe and is a search we will continue.  The most interesting item we found in the safe was a copy of mother's permanent record.  We laughed as we looked at the record of her grades.  We realized this item was put in the safe to keep young and curious eyes from seeing.  My mother was a very capable and bright woman.  Her grades reflected that she sought  a very social experience throughout her academic career.    Most of mother's children were like her in that regard.  Lindsey and I have discussed the fact that we attended school mostly as a social activity.  We did what we had to in the academic realm, just enough to keep dad and mom happy or sometimes not so happy. Our main focus was our friends and groups of friends.  Maybe mother thought if we did not see the evidence of her school social life we would be more academic.  DNA often wins out over influence and certainly was the case here.  Once again we found ourselves in our mother.  The connection so strong.  Strong enough that the metal and locks could not have changed how our personalities developed and how we approached our formal education.

Many of us look back over our academic lives and have regrets.  I don't think mother really had regrets, she just wanted us to be more academically engaged.  Maybe she knew that the women of our generation would be called on to be more formally educated and to have a more active role in the working world.  She was from the generation where women were expected to  be mothers, nurses, or teachers.  Any academic acheivement past that was unusual and looked at as odd.  I took my secondary education much more seriously.  I was engaged in the process of learning and developing the skills necessary to work as a professional.  Even though I had advanced my education to the secondary and master's level,  I knew that Mother was much more intelligent than I.  I have found that the social connection gene she passed on to us has been much more valuable at times than my formal education. She was so wise and had the courage to tell the truth as she saw it, to anyone, regarding any situation.  That type of confidence can not be taught in an academic setting.  It is a confidence that comes from knowing what does and doesn't work and being observant enough to remember the difference in the two.

I haven't hidden my report cards in a safe.  I really don't know where they are.  I am eternally grateful that Mom put that record in her safe as it made us mindful once again of the good DNA passed on to us.

Note:  As spell check is unavailable at this time please forgive any errors that I did not catch on my own.  Spelling was never my forte and if I have to get out Webster's for every questionable word it would drive my academic or is it social soul crazy.

Antidote:  I get very upset and emotional when I make an error.  Richard has always reminded me that "it won't go on your permanent record".  Praise Be.