How I got my sister

My father was the oldest of five boys, and he had one sister.  His mother died having a baby that also died.  He went to school through the fifth grade.  Sometime soon after that, I imagine, he went to work, but the only work available was farm work, which paid very little.  He would have still been living with his brothers, sisters, and father who, from what I have heard, probably let the children take care of themselves.  In 1927, someone's father informed him someone had gotten his daughter in the family way, so he agreed to marry her.  She gave birth to a little girl at the age of 15 or 16, and soon was pregnant again, but died having her next child, a boy who survived.

So my father had two babies with nobody to take care of them while he worked.  A couple of relatives took the infant boy, but they didn't want the girl.  Finally my dad's only sister, Gladys, dropped out of school to take care of the girl.

The only picture we have of Maxine's mother

My dad met my mom when both of them were working on the same farm, and they married in 1932.  His daughter came with the package, but the couple who had taken the little boy at his birth refused to let him go.  Mother always told me how happy she was to have a little girl when she married:  When my mom's dresses wore out, she would cut them down and use that material to make dresses for Maxine.

My parents with my sister

This was in the Great Depression, and Maxine told me Saturday that she still remembers how hard it was to get enough food at the time.  Winters were the worst, she said, because there wasn't much work for hired hands in winter.

My mother had one pregnancy that I heard about long before my birth, but it was a premature birth.  In 1937, she carried a boy that went the full term, but when the baby "dropped", he was choked by the umbilical cord.

Finally, in 1944, I appeared on the scene.  I was a colicky baby, and my colic lasted all day long, I am told.  However, they were so glad to finally have a baby that they just took turns walking the floor with me. 

I have often told Maxine that she's the only person still living who changed my diaper and carried me around when I was bawling.

You might have noticed in yesterday's blog that we don't look at all alike.  I think she took after her mom, and I know I took after mine.  But I've long ago given up saying she's my half-sister, because she feels like a full sister to me.