l
r)n.
- A filthy and wretched condition or quality.
lor, from squl
re, to be filthy. See squalid.]I saw squalor again yesterday morning. It looked just like I remembered it. Oddly happy but sad all the same. Being a fairly pensive person for the better part of my life I was aware of squalor and was at that time ashamed of it. I am no longer ashamed that I grew up poor. I realize now I had nothing to do with it and there was no way I could change it. Seeing it again made me remember the good times that squalor brought me.
Little pleasures were big ones. Every smile was a rainbow, everything that went right was a conquest. Every tree in the orchard was my friend and I understood animals and they understood me. My wife refers to my stories of this time in my life as my "Pennsylvania walked to school uphill both ways in the snow" stories and I understand that. They are not by any means believable. For example, the year Star Wars hit the theaters and Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind I was living without electricity, running water, or indoor plumbing. Baths were in a wash tub, like you'd see on the Waltons. The water was heated atop a wood stove and the water was drawn from a well with a bucket. Meals were cooked over a wood cook stove. We were dirty kids. Having to draw one's own bath water from a well in the back yard was not much fun and it certainly didn't happen every day. We had horses, a pig, a cow, and each other. We spent much time shovelling manure. Life was filled with hard work and I only had to do a minute amount of what everyone else was expected to do since I was the youngest and quite small.
I understood our position. All of our neighbors had electricity, water, all of that stuff. All of the kids at school had it too.
This is where my love of bicycles was born. I could get on my bicycle and ride far away where it was just me on my bicycle and no baggage of what I did or didn't have at home. It was the freedom from squalor and the adventure of a little boy. Every bike ride was an epic in my mind with big dreams of going even farther than I had gone on the last ride. Every return trip was a coming home of the victor who had gone forth and explored the world.
To each his own but I wouldn't trade my memories of squalor for anything. Just because we didn't have much doesn't mean we weren't happy. I hope the squalor I saw was as happy as I was.
3 comments:
Amen to that!!
I never said what you went through was unbelievable honey. It's just that when you talk about growing up you make it sound as if you were riding your bike 13 miles into Kane, alone, while you still had training wheels. Or no training wheels because you were on 2 wheels by the time you were 3 or something. It just sounds like you were as independant as an elementary school child as you were as a teenager.
Having an elementary child now it makes me think that I'm horrible for being more over protective and not letting Thor...say...bike to school already. Yeah it's only 2-3 miles but it's a high traffic area, he's easily distracted and there are no sidewalks or areas that aren't grass for him to ride on. And traffic is bad out here. I know you had hard times, our times were difficult but not quite as bad. I'm thankful our children don't have that. I certainly didn't mean to insult you, cuz me love you!
Short on pocket change and long on hugs is better than the other way around.
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