A few years before my great aunt died, she gave me this picture.
Faces from the past, strangers, and yet, my family.
As I look at this woman, my ancestor, I think of what her life was like. It was a hard life. She would have risen early, cooked on a wood stove, which meant the stove had to be stoked prior to cooking. No turning a knob and instantly having a flame. Eggs would be gathered, chickens fed, the cow milked, and all before breakfast was cooked. Her life was a busy life, taking care of a home, sewing, cooking, raising children and all without any of the luxuries that I now take for granted. What her eyes tell me though, is that this was all done as she had no other choice. No choice and more importantly, no voice.
I know more about my great-great grandmother. What a joy to be able to see what my great-great grandfather looked like. He looks to have been a good man. The couple went on to have two more children, another daughter and a son. Sadly, my great-great grandfather died when the children were still quite young. At that time, a woman could not own land in Florida, but she could in Texas, as long as she was not married. In pursuit of a better life for her family, this woman who had been left alone with four young children, packed her wagon, tied the cow to the back, and set off for Texas. What an incredibly brave woman. There were no conveniences along the way. They had to walk as the wagon carried their belongings. Nights were spent under the stars, all of their food cooked on a campfire. When it rained, they were wet. It was a very difficult journey. They did make it to Texas and she and all of her children lived out their lives there. My great-great grandmother died in 1961 at the age of 96.
At the time of this picture, there are three generations of women who had no voice, no rights, only obligations.
Today, I will vote. My right to vote is very important to me. It's important to ensure the future of the women who are yet to come, and it's important as a sign of respect for all those who came before me who had no voice. As I walk into the polling place today, I will think of my great-great grandmother. Each step I take will be dedicated to all the steps she took to pursue a better life for her family. As I cast my vote, I will thank her for the life I have, the voice I have, the rights I have.
Rhonda, what a wonderful photo--and what an inspiring story! We should always remember what a privilege it is to vote--and what it cost others to ensure that we have that right. I've voted, as I have in every election since I reached the age of eligibility. It matters.
ReplyDeleteThank YOU for such an articulate "get out and vote" prompt!
ReplyDeleteBrenda
(watching from north of the 49th parallel)
This brought tears to my eyes. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI couldn't agree more with you. I vote to honors all of my ancestors that could not vote.
ReplyDeleteRhonda - What a great reminder and powerful story! Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteI'm not finding a spot to post a new comment, so Jennilee, I hope you don't mind if I use the reply button under yours. Rhonda, thank you for such a moving post. You must feel blessed to be part of a family with such strong, lovely women. I so often feel disgruntled with the political process, but as you've so eloquently pointed out, I can at least participate. Hugs to you this election day.
DeleteRhonda, what beautiful story. Thank you so much for sharing. Women having a voice and rights is a subject that is often discussed in our household, with my 17 year old daughter. Oh how she wishes she could vote today!
ReplyDeleteWhat a moving story, Rhonda. Thank you for honoring hard-working women of past generations. When they were raising their families, both my grandmothers always walked at a trot (I was told) -- so much work to do. One grandmother had 13 children, the other 3. Doing laundry on a board and wringing everything by hand, including wedding sheets that had been corralled by the vet for a mare's difficult birthing. At 11 am, one grandma would trot out to the chicken house, snatch a chicken or two, chop off its head, dip it in a bucket of boiling water, pluck it, butcher it, and fry it up for lunch. An amazing and lovely woman, dear to me.
ReplyDeleteSo many memories of wonder women. Thanks for your post.
Thanks for sharing your memories Carol. I think that memories, stories such as these help us to be so grateful for all that we now take for granted, like gas stoves, electricity, our ability to so easily be in touch with everyone all over the world, and the list goes on and on.
DeleteYou are fortunate to have this picture and to know the stories of the women in the picture. I think that knowing our roots gives us a better appreciation of where and who we are. I still have the trunk that my great grandmother used when she came to America from Europe. It is a reminder of the risks she took when she left her home for a life in a new country over a century ago.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing your family history it's really interesting looking at old photos and wondering if any of them are like who you are today. Yes a woman's vote is important it was here NZ that woman got the right to finally vote...imagine if we couldn't...
ReplyDeleteWhat I wish is that I could show them my life. As ordinary as I think my life is, I know that they would find it unbelievable.
DeleteI don't even want to imagine what life would be like for of women could not vote. Actually, we don't have to wonder, just look across the ocean.