It was the simplicity of it. We didn't worry about money and survival but our parents did. We worried about who was going to get the red M & M's when my mother split the one and only bag she bought amongst her six children. That was a treat! It was rough on Mom and Dad but we didn't know that then. I grew up in the Bronx and we lived in a 3 bedroom large apartment with my 5 other siblings. My three sisters and I shared a room while my two brothers and Mom and Dad shared the other two. Our room had two sets of bunk beds for the four of us girls and we had one dresser with four drawers. My drawer was the third because I was the third in line. Dad worked two jobs to keep food on our table and clothes on our backs.
But you know there is something you lose when you get older; the innocence and simplicity of life itself.
In the winters the snow was always heavy with blizzard like conditions. We would have so much fun building snowmen and forts out of snow and they appeared so huge back then. The summers were full of kids in the courtyard playing ball or playing with our Barbie dolls with Ken and Barbie, her friend Midge and let's not forget about Skipper who came out later. I remember Mom always looking out of our 2nd floor apartment window to make sure we were all still there as she hand washed all our clothes and hung them out on the line. When Mom called us all in for lunch we would have peanut butter and jelly or tomato and mayonnaise sandwiches. Our dinners would consist of spaghetti on Sunday with leftovers on Monday; meat loaf; yucky liver which we all hated and on Tuesdays we would have beef stew because my Grandpa would come over. He would make us all finish our meal if we were to earn a tootsie roll pop. He only brought six so we each had the opportunity to enjoy it only if we finished our dinner. The table we all ate at was a picnic table with two benches and a chair at each end for my parents, except when Grandpa came over on Tuesday nights he took over Dad's chair. My Mom, she never sat down because she was always doing something. I remember when my Grandpa died and seeing tears in my Dad's eyes that I have never seen before. I didn't know what death was about or what was happening except Grandpa stopped coming over and we had no more lollipops.
I remember well the smell of summer which was a treasure as we all awaited the Mr. Softie truck and if Dad could afford it he would treat us to an ice cream cone. On a Saturday night if he had some good tips from his cab driving during the week, he would treat us all to an outdoor movie. During the week, Mom would walk us down to the park where we would play on the swings for hours. Sometimes the Super would open up the water sprinkler in the back courtyard and let us cool off on those real hot days. One Saturday, my Dad came home with a phonograph that he picked up from the garbage while working for the Department of Sanitation. He worked on fixing it so my mother could buy a record that we could listen to, and listen and listen; to the same song Deep Purple. I remember the words so well as they were embedded in my head over and over.
When the deep purple falls over sleepy garden walls
And the stars begin to twinkle in the sky
In the mist of a memory you wander back to me
Breathing my name with a sigh...
Sunday mornings my Dad would spring for some buns or Mom would make pancakes and we would all go to church. I remember Mass was in Latin and I used to love it. We four girls had to dress up and wear our chapel vales on our heads and God forbid if we lost them. Sometimes we would have Communion breakfast after church and oh how I remember how good they were. On Sunday evenings we would all be glued to the television set watching Lassie and kissing the TV screen when Lassie's paw would come up. Then it was the Ed Sullivan Show. As a treat my Mom would sometimes make corn fritters. Mom would make sure we all had our baths every night and then she would line up 4 chairs and set all of our hair curling each piece in bunches and sticking in a bobby pin. When the boys needed hair cuts she did it herself.
Sometimes on a Saturday Dad would take us all to Orchard beach or even Jones beach. I remember getting lost and the lifeguard holding me way up in the air asking if anyone owns this child. I remember my Dad coming to the rescue as I sat in the arms of a strange man frightened.
We all went to a Catholic School down the street on the other side of the L train which we would continually hear over and over again. We had uniforms and nuns that wouldn't think twice about hitting our knuckles with a ruler if we misbehaved. I remember when my Schaeffer fountain pen ran out of ink and I got my knuckles cracked for not having a refill. Mom couldn't afford all of us keeping refills on those dam pens and I think she prayed to God that the ink would last all year. I remember when I couldn't see the blackboard so good and when my Dad took me to the eye doctor to get me glasses. The nun whacked my butt with the ruler because she had to change my seat more to the front so I could see. We had school plays that we loved to perform in and a play teacher that tried to teach us how to tap dance.
We all shared our clothes and being the third girl, hand me downs were a treat. However, for Easter my parents would take us to Robert Hall down the road and treat us with a new outfit, spring jacket, bonnet, paten leather shoes and pocketbooks. Mom would make up baskets and hide them throughout the apartment so we can hunt them down in the wee hour of the morning.
At Halloween, my Mom would dress up with all of us and she would take our bedroom and turn it into a party room where we dunked apples and had so much fun. She even invited some of the other kids in the building.
At Christmas my Dad would stay up late hours putting together carriages, trains, trucks and whatever else they were able to afford for us. We didn't want for anything more.
On a rainy Saturday, we would all sing songs with Mom by the window looking down at the courtyard and waiting for Daddy to come home. He would only come home for a little while and then go to his second job. We all used to pile up on him when he came in. We used to sing rain rain go away; won't you come back another day' cuz Mommy's children want to go out and play. We were all probably driving her crazy having to stay inside the whole day.
On Thanksgiving, we would all watch March of the Wooden Soldiers and we all took turns riding on my Dad's feet as if he were a wooden soldier. This was after my Mom would wind up her little soldiers of course; one by one.
Around the corner there was what we called a holy store where they sold rosary beads, statues and Mass cards. I used to love to go in this store. I once saw a dark ruby like pair of rosary beads that I loved so much and I remember begging my father to get them for me but he could never afford them. One day he took me with him around the corner and brought me into that store and bought them for me. I still have those rosary beads today and continue to pray with them.
As I got older and looked back on my childhood, I often wondered how Mom and Dad did it.
Well, we were a charity case at the Catholic School and our uniforms were used and donated.
My Dad would take out a $500 loan from the bank to ensure we all had new Easter outfits and he would work very hard to pay the bank off every week so that he could do it again at Christmas.
When my parents saved a thousand dollars they realized they had to get out of the Bronx and try to buy a house in New Jersey to give us a better life. They paid $18,500.00 for a Cape Cod with 4 bedrooms and one bathroom. But then things began to change. Mom had another baby boy and the rest of us were approaching our teenage years and things were so different. In the beginning we missed the sound of the train and the noise it was too quiet. As we adjusted, we met new friends and started drifting in our own directions and becoming our own individuals.
All of a sudden things weren't as simple any more. Mom and Dad both continued to work hard and we were all developing into our own persons. But it was always that hard work that made things so good and we just never knew. We'd go to high school; Dad would teach us how to drive; we worked part time jobs and saved money for our cars; did stupid teenage stuff; incurred our own bills; grew up quick; got married and had kids. Now we understand and worry about those same things and now things are tough on us. But our children didn't split a bag of M & M's; they each had to have their own and that makes a difference.
Yes there is something about being young and realizing the struggles that build character helping you appreciate what you have. There is something about that era in time for me that often forces me to go back and reflect on those years. I would live it all over again the same way and I wouldn't change a thing. We never starved and we slept in warm beds at night. We had each other and we had great parents.
I went back to that old apartment several times and it still stands there just as it was. I went as far as going up to that second floor and longed to ring that doorbell just to walk through those rooms and sit for a moment to reflect; but I didn't have the guts to do it.
I sometimes will lie in bed and listen to the rain while reflecting back or get a whiff of a certain smell on a summer day bringing back a memory of those precious years. I wish I could go back for just an hour. Yes it was simple then and today when I feel like going back I buy myself some M & M's and still pick out those red ones saving them for last as I remember such good times in a family that held it together when things got tough.