Education has always been an important part of my life. Not just for me personally. The importance of an education was impressed upon my sister and I from an early age. For us, it was never a question of IF we would go to college. Rather, it was a matter of WHERE. Even when I wanted to be a truck driver, I was told I could drive a truck after college.
This emphasis on education didn't come just from my parents. Yes, Dad (a heavy equipment mechanic) told us frequently that we had to go to college so we could make a living using our brains. He didn't want us to use our backs, as he did. I have always been so proud of my parents. I know some people look down on their parents because they don't have degrees. I've never felt that way, and in fact, have argued with those who hold themselves as better because they have a degree. My parents worked hard to give Laura and I wonderful opportunities.
My Grandpa Wager was another big proponent for a college education. Grandpa always wanted to be a lawyer. He was the smartest man I've ever known. Grandpa skipped a grade in school and graduated at the age of 16. He worked some while he was saving money for college. He was ready to enroll in college and had some books bought. Then his younger sister needed emergency surgery to have her appendix out. His parents did not have the money for the surgery, so my Grandpa gave them the money he had saved. He was never paid back. Grandpa went to work, not college. Life went on. For me, this has always seemed the saddest event in my Grandfather's life. I know how devastated I would have been if my dream of college was taken away. Yet my Grandpa never complained. He just accepted it with his usual quiet grace and made the best of what he had. He was always reading though, always learning.
For her part, Grandma Wager was just as adamant that we get a college education as Grandpa and our parents were. As I said, it was never 'if', but 'where'. Although, for quite a long time she held out hope that we would attend Stetson University, not far from their house in Florida. I almost did. I interviewed with the admissions department during my Junior year of high school. It was on my short list of colleges (I had been looking at colleges since sixth grade). Then the summer after my Junior year, I attended a Communication program at the University of Pennsylvania. After that program, I knew I would major in Communication- something Stetson didn't offer. Even though I know my grandmother was disappointed, I wasn't going to waste my chance at college going someplace that didn't offer what I wanted.
Such a value was placed on education, that as I worked on the family history a few weeks ago, I had the biggest surprise yet. The 1940 US census was recently released, and I found mom's parents on the census in the town of Berlin. The census provided valuable information, including highest level of education. I found that my Great-Grandparents on the Wager side both only completed 6th grade. Grandma's parents completed 5th grade. Grandpa was listed as 'H4'- meaning he had completed four years of high school. Yes, that was correct. And below Grandpa's name, was my Grandma's. They were married not quite 2 years when the census takers came around. Next to Grandma's name under education it says '8'. I read it, and read it again, and said 'huh?' Then I did what all good family historians do when confronted with something that is the complete opposite of what you were ever told- I called my mother.
The story I had always been told, by my Grandma no less, was that she had finished high school but her family moved before graduation. So she didn't have a diploma, but she had finished high school. I remember her always being so proud about this. I knew her family moved a lot. Grandma grew up in The Depression, so they moved with the jobs. It was, in fact, something my Grandmother was so proud of, I included it in her obituary! I sent the obituary to my mom, aunt, and sister before we printed it.
I asked Mom why it said an 8 next to Grandma's name. Did the school she went to only go to 8th grade- and so when she said she finished high school, that was what she meant? Mom didn't think so. Mom was as baffled as I was, because she had always been told the same story- in fact, we recited it together. Mom thought maybe this was a secret Grandma carried to her grave. My next call was to Mom's older sister. My aunt shattered what I had known as 'fact' by saying that no, 8th grade was correct. Grandma's family moved so much, she couldn't adjust to the different schools, and finally just dropped out and went to work on a farm (probably picking produce) to bring in more money for the family. My aunt said the only one of Grandma's siblings to graduate high school was the youngest, Vivian, who was 10 years younger than my Grandmother (and therefore, was too young during the family's hardest times).
Mom, my sister, and I emailed about this the next day. I emailed what my aunt had said, and my sister's response was 'I don't know why this is such a surprise to you- I've known this for a while!' My mother and I are even more perplexed. How did half of us know the truth, and the other half of us have this completely different story that we believed as the truth? It has raised so many questions. Why did my Grandmother keep this from my mom and I? Was it something that she was ashamed of, and is that why she pushed college on my sister and I? It makes me sad that she felt she couldn't share this with us. It would not have changed our opinion of her at all. In fact, I always found it remarkable that both of Mom's parents were able to finish high school during the Great Depression. I know my Grandfather never held it against her. I guess it's one of the things I'll never understand about her.
My sister and I, like many of our friends, were the first generation in our family to go to college. We took different paths to our degrees. I chose the traditional path. I went to a four year college at the age of 18, and finished with my bachelor's four years after I graduated from high school. My sister also entered college after high school, and earned an Associates degree in two years. Then she was tired of school. She went to work, with my parents blessing. She worked for the same company for 11 years, and then was laid off three years ago. She found it difficult to get another job; everyone wanted a Bachelor's degree. So she went back to school. She has been taking classes while working full time, raising two children, keeping a house, and doing all the things that women find themselves doing. It was not easy, and I know was quite stressful for her. Today she is able to realize the fruits of her labor. She finished her last paper yesterday, and is now officially done. She'll walk in the graduation ceremonies in early June. I am so proud of her.
I think how far we have come in just two generations. Laura graduated with her Associates degree just days before I graduated with my Bachelor's. Grandma told me Grandpa was never more proud of his girls, than at that time we both held degrees in our hands. Grandma and Grandpa are both gone, but I know they are looking down and smiling. I suspect, Grandpa is more proud today that both of his grandchildren hold Bachelor's degrees than he was of us 14 years ago. Though he's been gone a dozen years, I can hear him telling us "An education is something no one can ever take away from you".
Monday, April 23, 2012
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Diamonds, Ducks, and Cookie Jars
Today was a sad day. A very dear family friend, Laura, died this morning. Laura's late husband, Lionel, was my father's best friend. Lionel passed away just after Christmas in 2007. Lionel was about 20 years older than my dad, but they were best friends. Laura and Lionel were married over 50 years. She has missed him terribly and today, they were reunited.
I have known Laura and Lionel my whole life. It seems they were a part of every big family event- birthday parties, graduation parties, bridal showers and weddings. They followed our progress in school and gave us encouragement- just as they did with their own grandchildren (whom my sister and I went to school with). Lionel tried to correct my poor posture as a child. If you've ever seen me in person, you know he didn't really succeed. But he tried. If I was slouching, he pulled my shoulders and told me to stand up straight. As we moved out on our own, they continued to ask my parents about us. When first Sydney and then Drew came along, they delighted watching another generation grow up.
Laura was from Puerto Rico. Even after living in the US for more than half a century, she still had an accent. She was a very slight woman, and very kind and generous. But she also had a temper, which kind of endeared her to me. I have always liked fiesty old women. I hope to be one someday. I remember there were times that Lionel would come to our house to hang out, saying he had to get away from 'that mad little Puerto Rican'. They both had their difficult moments, but they would have done anything for you if they liked you.
There are some very special memories I thought of today when I was telling people about Laura. Oh, and just to clarify- yes, my sister's name is also Laura, but my sister was named for Laura Ingalls Wilder, not our friend Laura. Usually, in our family we used our friend Laura's last name just to distinguish the two Lauras.
The first memory I hold very dear of our friend Laura is from my sixteenth birthday. I had a big sweet sixteen party. I made my own birthday cakes (because I wanted to). I had two cakes shaped like cars. It was, to that point in my life, the biggest party I'd ever had. The present Laura and Lionel gave me was a necklace with a small diamond pendant. It was just a tiny diamond, set in a very pretty gold setting. The gold wrapped around the stone forming what looked like a very delicate flower. I was speechless, and that doesn't happen often. Laura told me that every woman needed a diamond. She also felt that first diamond should come not from some boy who might leave (wow- she had some foresight!), but from someone who has been special to you throughout your life. I felt so grown up and so incredibly blessed.
Laura was very thoughtful giving gifts. My other very special memory involves another gift. Fast forward a few years to my Senior year of college. I was preparing for graduation and planning a wedding at the same time. I registered for all kinds of household items: pots and pans, knives, dishes, sheets and blankets, towels. While registering at J.C. Penney, I found a cookie jar shaped like Donald Duck. I love Donald Duck. I always have. I just had to have this cookie jar, even though it didn't go with the rest of the decor. So I added it to the registry.
When Laura saw my registry, she was looking for something she could buy that would be special. She told me she didn't want to buy me something generic for the house. She wanted something for ME. Something that I would love and always remember who gave it to me. When she saw the Donald Duck cookie jar, she knew that was the gift. She told Lionel that I loved Donald Duck. When I opened the gift at my shower, and then she told me the story, I felt that same feeling as I had at my Sweet Sixteen.
I have a picture of Laura and Lionel at my wedding. They are dancing. Laura is wrapped tightly in Lionel's arms, and they seem lost in their own world. It is my favorite picture of them. When my marriage broke up, Lionel told me that while it was supposed to be until 'death do us part', he believed God made an exception in cases of violence. I found that comforting.
Whenever I went home to visit my parents, I had to visit Laura and Lionel. If Mom was having a party, they were invited. If there was no party, I went to their house to see them. I last saw Laura in August, at Sydney and Drew's birthday party. She had so much fun watching all the children run and have fun. We took a picture of her holding Drew- they were both smiling. It was such a sweet picture.
On my way home for lunch today, 'How Great Thou Art' was the song that came up on my MP3 player. It is my favorite hymn. The song both comforts me and sends me to pieces. I walked through the door with tears streaming down my face. Then I had to explain to Erich what happened. As I walked through the kitchen making my lunch, I saw the cookie jar in the dining room. Yes, I still have it. I don't think I could ever get rid of it. It means too much to me.
Tonight those of us on earth are grieving. But I have no doubt she and Lionel are dancing in Heaven, wrapped tight in each other's arms. Perhaps she even gave him a tongue lashing for keeping her waiting so long!
I have known Laura and Lionel my whole life. It seems they were a part of every big family event- birthday parties, graduation parties, bridal showers and weddings. They followed our progress in school and gave us encouragement- just as they did with their own grandchildren (whom my sister and I went to school with). Lionel tried to correct my poor posture as a child. If you've ever seen me in person, you know he didn't really succeed. But he tried. If I was slouching, he pulled my shoulders and told me to stand up straight. As we moved out on our own, they continued to ask my parents about us. When first Sydney and then Drew came along, they delighted watching another generation grow up.
Laura was from Puerto Rico. Even after living in the US for more than half a century, she still had an accent. She was a very slight woman, and very kind and generous. But she also had a temper, which kind of endeared her to me. I have always liked fiesty old women. I hope to be one someday. I remember there were times that Lionel would come to our house to hang out, saying he had to get away from 'that mad little Puerto Rican'. They both had their difficult moments, but they would have done anything for you if they liked you.
There are some very special memories I thought of today when I was telling people about Laura. Oh, and just to clarify- yes, my sister's name is also Laura, but my sister was named for Laura Ingalls Wilder, not our friend Laura. Usually, in our family we used our friend Laura's last name just to distinguish the two Lauras.
The first memory I hold very dear of our friend Laura is from my sixteenth birthday. I had a big sweet sixteen party. I made my own birthday cakes (because I wanted to). I had two cakes shaped like cars. It was, to that point in my life, the biggest party I'd ever had. The present Laura and Lionel gave me was a necklace with a small diamond pendant. It was just a tiny diamond, set in a very pretty gold setting. The gold wrapped around the stone forming what looked like a very delicate flower. I was speechless, and that doesn't happen often. Laura told me that every woman needed a diamond. She also felt that first diamond should come not from some boy who might leave (wow- she had some foresight!), but from someone who has been special to you throughout your life. I felt so grown up and so incredibly blessed.
Laura was very thoughtful giving gifts. My other very special memory involves another gift. Fast forward a few years to my Senior year of college. I was preparing for graduation and planning a wedding at the same time. I registered for all kinds of household items: pots and pans, knives, dishes, sheets and blankets, towels. While registering at J.C. Penney, I found a cookie jar shaped like Donald Duck. I love Donald Duck. I always have. I just had to have this cookie jar, even though it didn't go with the rest of the decor. So I added it to the registry.
When Laura saw my registry, she was looking for something she could buy that would be special. She told me she didn't want to buy me something generic for the house. She wanted something for ME. Something that I would love and always remember who gave it to me. When she saw the Donald Duck cookie jar, she knew that was the gift. She told Lionel that I loved Donald Duck. When I opened the gift at my shower, and then she told me the story, I felt that same feeling as I had at my Sweet Sixteen.
I have a picture of Laura and Lionel at my wedding. They are dancing. Laura is wrapped tightly in Lionel's arms, and they seem lost in their own world. It is my favorite picture of them. When my marriage broke up, Lionel told me that while it was supposed to be until 'death do us part', he believed God made an exception in cases of violence. I found that comforting.
Whenever I went home to visit my parents, I had to visit Laura and Lionel. If Mom was having a party, they were invited. If there was no party, I went to their house to see them. I last saw Laura in August, at Sydney and Drew's birthday party. She had so much fun watching all the children run and have fun. We took a picture of her holding Drew- they were both smiling. It was such a sweet picture.
On my way home for lunch today, 'How Great Thou Art' was the song that came up on my MP3 player. It is my favorite hymn. The song both comforts me and sends me to pieces. I walked through the door with tears streaming down my face. Then I had to explain to Erich what happened. As I walked through the kitchen making my lunch, I saw the cookie jar in the dining room. Yes, I still have it. I don't think I could ever get rid of it. It means too much to me.
Tonight those of us on earth are grieving. But I have no doubt she and Lionel are dancing in Heaven, wrapped tight in each other's arms. Perhaps she even gave him a tongue lashing for keeping her waiting so long!
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