A friend wrote an interesting introspective blog on his move to the city where we met and it started me thinking of my parent’s journey to rest in this location.
Like so many other boomers, our parents went through the war and rationing and in some cases the depression. In my case, even the roaring 20’s with its wild abandonment became the theme song for my father and mother’s adventure.
All I have is a few photos to piece together a history that was never talked about.
There was perhaps a musical demon, which burnt in both of them that the war snuffed out. Perhaps it was a life long dream for fame and fortune, coming close, but never able to grasp the ring.
We try not to think of the struggles of our “Moms” and “Dads”; their dreams, needs, and desires. We only think of them as providers. They gave us a shelter, food, clothing, education, and toys (to replace whatever it is to be a parent) without regard for their own wants.
Looking back at my own recollection, coming to this town in the 50’s and never really struggling for anything, I am a boomer who’s parents provided the comfort of a dull and boring, safe decade, where A-bombs, commies and space aliens were my biggest fears.
Everything changed in the 60’s, but by then, my parents were too weary or perhaps wise, to bother with what was happening with their children.
Their last years, which are mine now, could have been a new discovery of each other and the world around them, yet I feel they had grown oblivious of the surrounding, only to live in past memories.
Were the earlier times that much better, or did they just not want to face a deeming furthers?
They both left an interesting legacy that will fade with time, but they did the best they could.