~a dear little mumps child~
I grew up in the times of the polio scare, a moment in history that all parents dreaded for their children. I didn't know enough to be afraid of contracting the disease, only that my parents were absolutely adamant about certain things for us kids like never going to a swimming pool and for some reason, staying out of mud puddles. I really don't even recall hearing the word polio before that day in the early '60s when our entire 9 person family headed to the elementary school gym in nearby Burrton, Kansas to receive our polio vaccination.
The memories of the little girl that I used to be are fading but the recollection of that day when my siblings and I had a vaccine laced sugar cube placed into our mouths has remained with me all these many years later. And for the record, it wasn't a sweet taste like I imagined it would be. I recall the bitterness and to see our faces as we swallowed it down was more than likely a testament to the fact that it didn't taste like candy. One cube each satisfied us all.
My folks, along with the whole rest of the world, must have breathed a collective sigh of relief.
As a little girl, I survived the childhood illnesses for which there was no vaccine available at the time. The worst of them was whooping cough, a disease I came down with just prior to my 4th birthday in 1959. I can remember that awful cough, one that resembled a "whoop", thus giving it the name. My father and mother worried about me so much. I can remember my mom holding me in her lap and settling me down as much as she could when the coughing fits began. More than one trip was made to the doctor's office at Newton in order to find some relief for me. My older sister, Sherry, had the same disease before she was even a 1-year old. Mom told me many times about how my dad used to take his finger and put it into her mouth and try to sweep away the mucous that had settled into the back of her throat so she could breathe once again. Coupled with cases of mumps, chicken pox, and two different kinds of measles, I am most certain that my folks were glad to see all of their children survive into adulthood. I cannot even imagine how frightening it must have been at times for them to be parents and I am most grateful to them, even today as a nearly 65-year old woman, giving thanks for their keeping us alive.
Fast forward, far into the future~
In the times of Covid 19 and now civil unrest in our country, I find myself wondering how it will all end up. Tomorrow, for the first time since mid-March, we are able to return to church. Although things will be different, at least we will all be able to worship together once again. The virus has not gone away and people will need to remember that as we slowly go back to a life somewhat as we knew it before. We cannot be afraid to live life, yet by the same token we must still be vigilant and watch out for our own well being and the well being of others along the way. This new kind of normal has taken some getting used to.
I am cautious about everything but even being cautious isn't enough it would seem. I pray for everyone to be safe and well, especially my own little family. We are facing multiple challenges as a nation and those same difficulties will either make us or break us. It will all depend upon whether or not we rise up to meet them or end up making them even more difficult to get through.
One thing I am certain of.
For the gift of strength my parents gave me at my birth, I am thankful.
It shall take a great deal of it to see us all through.
Be safe. Be well.
The memories of the little girl that I used to be are fading but the recollection of that day when my siblings and I had a vaccine laced sugar cube placed into our mouths has remained with me all these many years later. And for the record, it wasn't a sweet taste like I imagined it would be. I recall the bitterness and to see our faces as we swallowed it down was more than likely a testament to the fact that it didn't taste like candy. One cube each satisfied us all.
My folks, along with the whole rest of the world, must have breathed a collective sigh of relief.
As a little girl, I survived the childhood illnesses for which there was no vaccine available at the time. The worst of them was whooping cough, a disease I came down with just prior to my 4th birthday in 1959. I can remember that awful cough, one that resembled a "whoop", thus giving it the name. My father and mother worried about me so much. I can remember my mom holding me in her lap and settling me down as much as she could when the coughing fits began. More than one trip was made to the doctor's office at Newton in order to find some relief for me. My older sister, Sherry, had the same disease before she was even a 1-year old. Mom told me many times about how my dad used to take his finger and put it into her mouth and try to sweep away the mucous that had settled into the back of her throat so she could breathe once again. Coupled with cases of mumps, chicken pox, and two different kinds of measles, I am most certain that my folks were glad to see all of their children survive into adulthood. I cannot even imagine how frightening it must have been at times for them to be parents and I am most grateful to them, even today as a nearly 65-year old woman, giving thanks for their keeping us alive.
Fast forward, far into the future~
In the times of Covid 19 and now civil unrest in our country, I find myself wondering how it will all end up. Tomorrow, for the first time since mid-March, we are able to return to church. Although things will be different, at least we will all be able to worship together once again. The virus has not gone away and people will need to remember that as we slowly go back to a life somewhat as we knew it before. We cannot be afraid to live life, yet by the same token we must still be vigilant and watch out for our own well being and the well being of others along the way. This new kind of normal has taken some getting used to.
I am cautious about everything but even being cautious isn't enough it would seem. I pray for everyone to be safe and well, especially my own little family. We are facing multiple challenges as a nation and those same difficulties will either make us or break us. It will all depend upon whether or not we rise up to meet them or end up making them even more difficult to get through.
One thing I am certain of.
For the gift of strength my parents gave me at my birth, I am thankful.
It shall take a great deal of it to see us all through.
Be safe. Be well.
I found this book that was written in 1959 in a pile of discard books one day at school. Once I was a dear little mumps child too.
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