Memoir
/ˈmemˌwär/ noun. a record of events written by a person having intimate knowledge of them and based on personal observation. Usually memoirs. an account of one's personal life and experiences; autobiography. the published record of the proceedings of a group or organization, as of a learned society.
We’ve already done a dozen of these!?
Memoir Monday has grown so much that I won’t be able to comment on everyone’s posts anymore (and get my own work done) but I’ll still be supporting your posts with reblogs, votes, and shares on my other social media accounts (X, Facebook, etc.).
For all of those who’ve regularly participated in Memoir Monday - keep going, you’re making great progress in chronicling your very own life story for future generations to enjoy.
For those who missed the inaugural post explaining what the Memoir Monday initiative is all about you can find it here.
Now for next week’s Memoir Monday prompt:
What were your next door neighbors like when you were a child?
My answer:
It’s almost hard to believe now but in the 1970’s, when I was growing up on the east side of Columbus at 586 Elizabeth Avenue the neighborhood was a quiet and safe place. Now the neighborhood has been overtaken by violence, drugs, and urban blight.
When I was growing up the neighborhood was full of hard working lower middle class families raising children. A majority of the homes on our street were built in the 1920’s-30’s and there were still even a few old-timers around who were original residents.
One of them was our neighbor to the south, Mrs. Willow (Bucher) Werkhaven, was born on September 3, 1906. She was the child of Dutch immigrants. Supposedly her parents still were wearing their wooden shoes when they arrived in Columbus in the 1800’s. Her father eventually opened a butcher shop in (I believe) Columbus’ Central Market and, considering his daughter’s education and love of classical music and finer culture, did fairly well for himself. Considering their surname, Bucher, this was a trade that was likely brought over from their native Holland.
My parents told me when they first bought our house in 1972 (for $18,000) they thought the house next door was vacant. Later they discovered their neighbor had recently retired from a long career at Lazarus Department Store and was out traveling the world for the first few months we lived there. We learned Mrs. Werkhaven had been criss-crossing the globe, visiting -- Egypt, China, Vietnam, Hawaii, and India. She had gone to college for music but I suppose her job at Lazarus proved to be more lucrative.
Sadly, all but my maternal grandfather passed away before I was born but Mrs. Werkhaven lovingly filled the void for me. When I was just a few years old she would wave from her porch and say “Whoo, whoo” (I don’t know why). Well, that became her nickname.
She became like a surrogate grandmother to my brother and I. Here and I would spend hours on her porch and she would tell me about her global travels. As we thumbed through her National Geographic magazines, she’d educate me about the other cultures she experienced. She even taught me to play piano and was highly educated and cultured.
Mrs. Werkhaven could also be a very stern (some would say grumpy) woman and, as so often is the case, we learned her life made her that way. Her husband left her to raise their three daughters alone and in the 1930’s and 40's this couldn’t have been an easy task for a single woman. She drove a little metallic green Ford Maverick that smelled just like her best friend, a springer spaniel named Boomie. The windows were always smudged from his nose prints. Those two were inseparable.
She was a tough woman, having lived through two world wars and the Great Depression. Mrs. Werkhaven's demeanor softened as we spent more time together and she got to know us. As I grew older I took out her trash and would cut her lawn. Let me tell you, if that lawn wasn’t cut perfectly she would make me do it again until it was. For Christmas she would get us gift certificates to McDonald's and books. For birthdays we'd get a card with a five dollar bill inside.
Aside from my memories this blurry, faded picture is all I have left of Mrs. Werkhaven, she passed away in 1990 at 83 years old. I credit her with planting the seeds of my wanderlust and deep curiosity about other cultures, also my love of literature and music. There was really nobody else in our lives who was able to travel the world, she showed me that these experiences were attainable.
My childhood experience and my entire life has been better for having known Mrs. Werkhaven. Our time together taught me a lot and helped mold me into the person I've become. As I get older I think about her and the impact she had on our lives a lot. Each person we spend time with has either a positive or negative impact on us. We were so lucky to have moved in next door to this wonderful woman.
Rules of Engagement
- Please reblog this first post and share on other social platforms so we cast the widest net possible for this initiative;
- Pictures paint a thousand words. Include pictures in your posts if you have them;
- Answer each Memoir Monday prompt question in your own post. If possible, the prompt question will be published in the week prior so you'll have the entire week to answer and publish your own post;
- Have fun with it, don't worry about getting behind, or jumping into the project at any point after we've begun; and
- Lastly, be sure to include the tag #memoirmonday.
It's that simple.
At the end of the next twelve months we'll have created something immensely valuable together. It's so important to know our "whys" in life and there's no better way to do that than this.
Someday all that will be left of our existence are memories of us, our deeds, and words. It's up to you to leave as rich of a heritage as possible for future generations to learn from. So, go ahead, tell your stories. I can't wait to read them.
Be well and make the most of this day. I want to sincerely thank all of the participants thus far. I've really enjoyed reading your posts!
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