A Mother of a Story

I'd like to share a bit of the story of Mother. She was born back East to a well to do family that owned several general mercantile stores. Raised as a proper lady, she longed to break free of the bonds of etiquette. At just this moment, she met Father. An immigrant from Europe and a veteran of the War between the States, his valor and exotic ways called to Mother's sense of adventure.

Once they married, they were off to settle the West. Father swept Mother off to Wisconsin, then back to Iowa where I was born. The story goes that I was born down the street from where Custer was getting ready to raid the Indians, however, it's probably all balderdash.

After a brief stop in the Dakota territory and some flat dry desert regions before we crossed the huge mountains, Father, Mother and the six of us children arrived in California, one of the newer states in the Union. When the gold didn't pan out, Father wanted to uproot us all to the Alaska Territory where it was said an even larger fortune was to be had for the men who dared to retrieve it.

Mother would have none of it. She'd already followed her heart across the continent and was not about to journey any further. She was weary and in need of a place to rest. A divorce was had and Father left us to go find his fortune in the North.

Since Mother was always one to make hay while the sun shines, not long after Father skedaddled, she caught the eye of a local blacksmith who was very well to do and without a wife to care for his four young children.