In the summer time after a hot day of working, Dad, and usually most of the boys, would sit outside under the maple trees in the evenings. It was cooler under the trees than it was inside the house. I think I was allowed to be there mostly because I was too little to be of any real help to Mom or my big sisters as they cleaned up and washed the dishes.
I liked being with Dad. It was at this time of day that he would most often tell stories. Sometimes I really didn’t understand what the stories were about, but that was okay. I just liked hearing Dad talk. His voice was like my background music. The songs of the whippoorwills and katydids seemed to blend with the drone of Dad’s words, and I felt very safe.
There were other occasions I remember especially well when Dad would tell stories. What I enjoyed the very most happened when Mom and Dad would have fried fish suppers. Clarice and Alline have told me that Mom always liked a certain kind of white fish. A long time ago, they remember, Dad would buy needed groceries from a huckster who came around in a wagon. There was no refrigeration in those days, but the huckster could keep anything cold on a chunk of ice covered over with blankets. I don’t remember the days of the huckster, but I do remember when Dad would bring fresh fish home from Liberty. It always seemed like a surprise to Mom when he did that, and she was always pleased.
Usually the rest of us did not remain long around the table for those fish meals, but Mom and Dad would linger. The fish were not de-boned, so my parents naturally had to eat it very slowly and carefully. They didn’t seem to mind. Dad would start telling his stories and discussing people they both remembered, ancestors and distant cousins, the genealogy and birth order of families. My hard working parents rarely took time to have leisure, but the fish suppers were an exception. All the cares of raising a large family seemed to ease away. Their thoughts were in their own world, discussing people none of us children had ever seen. I felt a peacefulness within myself as I listened and watched the calmness they themselves seemed to feel.
There had already been many great losses and great sorrows in Mom and Dad’s lives at the time of their simple fish suppers. And there would be more to come. But in that small moment in time, I think they deeply enjoyed their slow-paced sharing. I like recalling those special quiet evenings.
