Dibs On The Apple Core

 Sometimes, when the world is too much with me and I need a bit of perspective, I take a look back in history to...you know...compare notes...then and now.

My father and mother were born in 1913 and 1914 respectively. They were toddlers when WW1 raged. Then they were in their mid teens when the Great Depression caused global economic collapse. My mother had just started her first of four years in a Baptist boarding school and my father was working as a soda jerk in a local drugstore. He also played a saxophone in a band for extra cash. 

Even as kids, just like others of their generation, they each did what they had to do to not just survive but to stay optimistic that life would one day get back to some kind of normal. 

They met each other as they were finishing their teen years and chose to enter their adult years together. A year later, 1935, my sister was born. If surviving having nothing and next to nothing as a couple was a challenge, adding a child to care for to the mix must have been overwhelming. Somehow they managed and five years later, 1940, they added to the family with the birth of my brother. 

Then my father caught a break and was given a management position in a men's shoe store but it required that he move his little family to a brand new location, in another town and state. Imagine that. Not yet 30 years old and scary as it was he could see the opportunity to start a better life was worth moving away from his birthplace, parents and siblings. 

Then WW2 came shortly thereafter. Having a wife and two kids to support my father chose to declare the allowable exemption and did not join the military. 

Life for the average American was pretty tough in the 40s but having grown up in the Depression they knew exactly how to do without. They were not shocked by shortages of food or being unable to get certain essentials like tires, household goods and clothing.

The family of four lived in a tiny duplex until February 1948 when, the war over, the concept of suburbia had exploded and housing communities popped up all over America. Somehow they were able to get a mortgage for a small, two bedroom, one bath house. They had run out of room in the duplex.  I was 9 months old.

I grew up in that house, never once feeling poor. I never thought about my brother not having a bedroom who slept on a studio couch as I shared an 8x10 room with my sister. And now I have no idea how a family of five managed to coordinate with one bathroom. 

Over time my parents were able to improve the house, closing in the one-car carport and the screened in porch giving us two more living spaces. My mother was able to upgrade from a hand wringer washer to an electric washing machine but still had to hang out the laundry on the clothes line stretched across the backyard which seemed perfectly normal. I try to visualize that now every time I complain to myself about having to switch a load from my washer to the dryer. It's always about perspective.

When I was 8 or 9 they got a home improvement loan and bought a refrigerator with a freezer compartment, which meant we could buy Eskimo Pies and have them just sitting there waiting to be pulled out. Frozen foods were still in the developmental stage of launching with the amazing TV dinner. But I now compare eating only fresh foods then to having two side by side refrigerators and two fully packed chest freezers and I feel vaguely entitled if not silly. 

My parents also installed wall to wall carpet and a window air conditioner for the living room. I have limited memories of living in Houston Texas prior to having no air conditioning anywhere, including school or cars. I start sweating even thinking about it.

But it was the Fabulous 50s/60s, I was an official bonafide Boomer. And like most of my generation, I was shaped by the Age of Innovation, TVs in every home, the rise of consumerism as a religion, and a lack of knowledge about having to make do or do without in the same way my parents did. We were not rich, by any means, but I don't recall having to count every bite, to ration or abide by the old saying 'waste not/want not'. My mother was full of old sayings.

One pithy saying that my mother explained to me when I was a kid when I was not willing to eat all the food on my plate paints a very complex picture. She said when she was young and someone in her circle of friends was lucky enough to have an apple, someone else would shout - 'Dibs on the apple core!'  Which meant, when the person finished eating all that could be gotten from the apple, the core remaining would go to the first person to claim it and not the trash bin. 

I guess when you have nothing and next to nothing even a bit of something is worth fighting for. Again, perspective. I can't stop my brain flashing back to people fighting over toilet paper and paper towels in 2020. 

I admit to some concern that several generations have had it so easy for so long now, I don't know if they can do what the Greatest Generation did who grew up in the Depression then had to make sacrifices for war as they reached their launch into adulthood. They lived hardship and yet still managed to hold onto hope that things, not just could, but would get better. Not unlike the people of western Oklahoma during the Dust Bowl era when every year for a decade the crops would fail and they would say - maybe next year. 

I've had some rough years in my life too, so I'm not claiming I've never had to deal with adversity. There were not a few times when I had to roll pennies to be able to go buy a couple boxes of Kraft Mac & Cheese and a can of green beans to feed my three kids. I admit dealing with occasional angst at the threshold of a great unknown future, but I always had something deep inside that kept me moving forward, meeting every obstacle as a challenge to be faced with determination to overcome. 

Somehow, something planted in me by the example of my parents gave me courage and hope that there are two things that no one can take from me - my attitude and gratitude. As I age I find I think that could be also called faith that God is in charge no matter what we are asked to step up to, give up or do without.

So, if I can't have the apple, then I can be grateful for the core. If I can't have the core, I'll say, okay, maybe next time. 

For Him,

Meema