This photo certainly brings me back to simpler times. I was four years old and was drawing or coloring along with my brother Glenn at our dining table. There are several things in the photo that are familiar to me.
In the center of the table is a glass bowl and plate which shows up in several of my old photos. After mom passed away, her photos along with her mother’s photos became mine. Several years before mom passed away, she told me she got the bowl and plate as a gift in 1948. She usually placed it on a plastic doilie as shown in this photo.
On the right of the table is mom’s western leather purse. I loved that purse of hers. A few years ago I saw one like it in an antique store which I should have purchased. She must have liked the western look because the sofa, coffee table and end tables she had purchased a few months before this photo was a western motif.
The television in the left corner had its speaker at the bottom of it. I have no idea what size it was but probably was a large one for its time. This was the television we watched for the assignation of President John F Kennedy back in 1963. On top of the television was another one of mom’s plastic doilies.
The refrigeration had the type of handle that pulled away from the door with the top freezer within the main refrigerator door; this too was common for the era.
The table was metal and was red and white with two sleeves to make it larger for when we had guests. So many people had the same kind of table.
Dad was on an Army tour of duty during this time, so it was mom, Glenn and me. Mom worked at a local 5&Dime store, J.W. Low’s so my grandparents usually took care of Glenn and me while she worked.
My hair was short most of my childhood, as it was in the photo. Mom liked my hair to be cut in a pixie style. It wasn’t until I was in my middle teens that I was allowed to let my hair grow, which eventually got down to my waist.
Mom usually kept a neat, clean house and to be honest, it surprises me her purse is on table as she usually went straight to her bedroom to put her purse away in the same place every time.
I slipped in the bathtub one night, hit my chin and needed stitches. Back then either doctors made house calls or opened their office for patients to come in for treatment. Once mom called the doctor, we headed out to his office.
A popular song of that time was Big Girls Don’t Cry, which mom often reminded me of whenever I started to cry, especially when my chin was getting stitched up. But big girls do cry, both as young girls and as older girls (women). We cry when we are hurt, upset, disappointed and when we are happy with joy from falling in love, having children and when we lose a loved one.