This subcategory of Zorea Israel memories focuses mostly on those times before we left the States. This might include:
- Memories from Alaska (both Jewish and Non-Jewish experiences)
- Memories from Tacoma (again, both Jewish and Non-Jewish)
- Memories from Yelm
- Memories from Seattle
- Memories from School, Friends, Family Trips
- Any other memory
FATHERS DAY — when I was a child and Father’s Day would come I used to imagine that my Dad might ride up to our house in a big limosine and he would get out and knock on the door and my Mom would answer it and he would say to her ” pack up the kids and you and Im taking you all to a huge mansion” I imagined him to be maybe a prince or a movie star. But in real life he was a deadbeat Dad. Leaving my Mom to run away to Alaska when she was 8 months pregnant with my sister. I never knew then where he went and neither did my Mom. I was two and my brother was 3. I had a step Dad eventually, and while my step Dad was not a bad person and the only Dad I ever knew, I always dreamed of meeting my real father. When I was 32, married with three kids my Dad did come and knock on my door. He was not a Prince. He had heart disease and wanted to see his three children before he died. He lived in my driveway in an RV with my step mom and my 18 yr old brother where he died of a heart attack one year later. He wasn’t someone to be admired necesarilly, he was simply a man. But it allowed me to forgive him. It allowed me to set aside my pain and anger because he was a sad, sick man who didn’t have the courage to do the right thing when he was young. He never paid child support and missed out on our lives. But… I forgave him. To all those Fathers who are Fathers and have the courage to be a Father.,., GOD BLESS YOU. Happy Father’s Day!!
I did have a big family as far as Uncles and Aunts and cousins. But quite frankly, I was the odd one. At 2 my mother let my grandma care for me and since she was RH factor she had lost 4 babies after they were born. ( my step grandma) so she fell in love with me and loved me fiercely. She and I did everything from tea parties to hunting faeries among the hollyhocks. She had a livid imagination and told me story after story. I adored her and when I would go home on weekends I barely fit in. I was often made fun of and treated the opposite of how my grandma treated me. I was very precocious and artistic and probably irritating. My Grandma loved my constant jabbering but my Mom was annoyed by it. I would do things like overspeak my siblings when Mother gave them spelling homework shouting out the answers. Where I was a treasured princess at Grandma’s house I was ” too smart for my britches” at my Mother’s. Some families have one child that is sort of picked on and that was me. I was introduced by my Mom as her ” problem child” and acted out accordingly. At school I had a different way of looking at things but was not seen as creative but rather an outspoken attention seeker. I was often extremely depressed and unhappy. But at Grandmas I was a perfect child. It caused a lot of problems for me.
Thanksgiving as a child in the fifties was warm and full ofthe scents of baking with the icy hard ground outside full of crisp and colorful leaves. Chico, my home town, is in the Sacramento Valley of California. A November day could still be in the 60’s or even 70’s and if it slipped to the 50’s we were cold. The culinary traditions were strong in my family and certain food and treats would always make an appearance. Chico, in my youth was once called the nut capital of the World. Almond orchards ( pronounced amond without sounding the L- like Ammon). English Walnut Orchards proliferated and the Continental Nut company was a major employer. We would sit at the table and crack and shell the nuts and put them into plastic canisters. My Mom would make pink and green candied or sugared walnuts, fudge with nuts and Divinity with nuts. We would fry nuts withvarious seasonings. Cinnamon and spices or fried nuts with a savory garlic seasoning. In the early fall us kids would take gunny sacks and wagons and walk all over Chico picking up Black walnuts from the neighborhoods. Their greenish black hulls would stain our hands with a tar like substance. The Continental nut company would give us a good amount of money for our sacks of nuts and we would get even more if we took the time to shell some of them. We would often use the extra money for school clothes. Fig trees were also common and grew wild all over Chico and we would go pick up Black figs and Mom would make Jam from them. Their shallow roots ruined the sidewalks and eventually the city removed most of them to save the sidewalks. I always loved trees and would always be climbing the English Walnut trees in our front yard and back yard. Thanksgiving always brings these memories to me. Mom is gone now and so are most of the Orchards and fig trees and Pecan and Black Walnut trees have been replaced by parking lots and housing developments.