After Mom died, Daisy and Jonas had the overwhelming job of sorting through almost 90 years of accumulated stuff. Mom would have called them memories, the building blocks of her life.
Shoe boxes filled with snapshots in black and white, 70 years and older. Some were cracked, yellowed and faded beyond recognition.
Mom as a war bride, aged 16, sitting proudly by her sailor who would ship out a month after they married. Her hair and makeup made her look older, but knowing her as Daisy did, she could also see the fear and dread in Mom’s eyes.
It was a long war.
Just Writing! 
Was it innocence, I wonder that made women marry men who would disappear and perhaps never come back? Or was it a kind of strength?
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My mom would have said it was pure love, and they wanted to share that with each other in the short time before he shipped out. It has always been so in war time, especially in the days when it was not common for everyone to be having sex if they weren’t married. And that may be the truth nugget, right there 🙂
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I wonder if that last line has a double meaning? More than just the fear of the war itself, but what would continue afterwards? Good story.
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Perhaps both. Sixteen is awfully young to be married, in any era.
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Dreams broken so young, so sad.
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So much uncertainty, yet so much hope. Life had to go on. Very nicely done, Linda.
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Thank you so much.
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Dear Linda,
Lovely story. My mom was also a war bride, but much older than 16. I love looking at the photos of the beginning of their love. They were married 42 years when she passed away from cancer.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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My parents made it to nearly 51 years when
Dad’s heart gave out on him. They didn’t just grow old together—they grew up together 🙂
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I can imagine the rush to get married before he shipped out. No time to wait until she was older, just in case…
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Exactly.
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Great story!
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Thanks 🙂
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16 seems ridiculously young to be married. 18 is ridiculously young to be shipped off to war. Not that war is good at any age. For the soldier going to war, it has to be a lifeline to know he had someone at home waiting for him. No matter how long the war is, every second has to seem like a lifetime.
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I agree. However, I think those who grew up during the Depression were a lot more mature than kids today who grow up with everything handed to them—not that they all do, but the Depression was universal and very hard. Our younger generation hasn’t had to deal with that kind of poverty.
I’ve always thought it interesting that we know a young man’s brain isn’t fully integrated until he’s about 25, so we send them off to war when they’re 18. Makes a whole lot of sense, right 🙂
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I think we’ve become less mature as a society. Look at our government. It’s a little terrifying.
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Photos are amazing. Envoke story and emotion. I dread to think what happens to old photos. Not everyone understands their value.
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My mother was a war bride at 17, but I’ve never heard her talk about what they went through. I’ll ask her one day.
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Don’t wait too long. You don’t want those memories to disappear 🙂
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You tell that story of a wartime romance very expertly. How clever of you to hint that the young man probably survived the war, as there are two children to sort photographs.
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Aw, thanks, Penny. Loosely based on my mom and dad’s story 🙂
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A great story that captures the period well.
The fear and dread and the long war. We don’t know if Dad came home – but we know Mom was pregnant when he left.
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He did. That’s why there are two adult children 🙂
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A well-told story. You capturedt the fear of war and very young love perfectly.
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This was lovely, Linda. I think I would have hated to fall in love with a military man…
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Yes, me too. I guess you have to accept from the beginning that he will be away, and in harm’s way. Very tough.
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A good story, Linda. I’ll bet many girls got married back then looking older than they were. My mother married for security at age fifteen to a man of thirty. When she was 21 and a mother with a young baby, her first husband committed suicide and she never understood why. There was a lot he didn’t tell her. His family came and removed the suitcases he hadn’t opened as he was just back from a trip of some kind. She never found out much about it. —- Suzanne
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It’s horrible to have so many unanswered questions. What a tragic story, Suzanne.
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Wonderful snapshot, pun intended.
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🙂
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How bittersweet it must be for the children to see their late mother’s old pictures. Your reference to the fear and dread in her eyes as a 16-year-old brought the story to life.
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Thanks so much 🙂
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You’re welcome.
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I beautiful remembrance of your parent’s story. For many women during that era, the seriousness of life propelled them forward in the normal, natural progression of emotional development. The fragility of life was oh so real. Nicely written, Linda!
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That’s a very perceptive comment, Brenda. Maybe part of the reason so many of our young people today seem so fragile is that they’ve never had to face any really hard stuff
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Geez…as wonderful as theme memories are…seems lot to leave unattended. Reminds me I need to save what is truly important!
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