Outdoor Plumbing

Some days are just more special than others. This day is set aside as the day our family got outdoor plumbing.

There are three of us kids. We were born in the early sixties. Yeah, I’m old. And yes, I am the oldest.

I was born on an army base in Georgia. It was a birth that probably caused my mom to consider ever doing that again. Maybe I will write about it sometime. It’s a story I think my kids would like to know. Of the three of us, I was always the scared one. My birth was probably a big part of the reason why.

My parents and I lived in Georgia for my first seven months until we moved to my dad’s hometown, Waukegan, Illinois, just north of Chicago. We stayed in a huge and very old house that my mom called the Old Viking Home. I believe the home was actually located in Gurnee. Mom’s parents, my grandparents, lived there and we stayed with them for a short time. I’m a little confused as to the actual purpose of the home but I believe my grandparents took care of the men who were caretakers of the Viking Home and who also lived on the property. I should have written down or recorded all of my mom’s stories, of which she had many. Hence, one of the main reasons I write now.

We stayed at the Viking Home for a few months. We moved to an apartment by the time my sister was born. Denise was born twelve days before I turned one.

We girls were both quiet and shy. But Denise was an adventurer, a climber. She was climbing before she could walk. I’m sure when Mom plopped me down I pretty much stayed there. Not my sister though. She was a mover. I was the shaker…from being afraid of everything.

I cannot recall what floor Mom said we lived on, but she had to carry us down the stairs to the basement of the apartment building, along with all the laundry, including a load of cloth diapers too. Once there, she’d set me down but she’d have to continually retrieve my sister from the stairs.

All in all, though, I think our little family of four was a quiet family of four.

But then Mom found out she was with child again when my sister was only a few months old. My parents were practicing Catholics which meant they weren’t practicing anything…well, as far as birth control was concerned. I’m sure it was tough for my mom to be pregnant and still have to haul us girls, and the laundry, down to the basement most days. Cloth diapers don’t wait, ya know. Soon though, my dad moved us into a newly built house.

I don’t recall many other stories told during those couple of years. Mom was busy though. I do recall one when I was two years old. I climbed into the bathroom sink, sat down (shhh…like an Indian) and turned on the hot water. This severely burned my right leg. I still have the scars.

We were born in the era of you don’t know the sex of your child until they are born. So it’s a fun guessing game for nine months. You are carrying high, or you are carrying low. You crave certain foods. You get heartburn. Who knows all of the crazy old wives tales that came into play during pregnancy back then. There were also a lot of tales and superstitions during that time period. Especially from my grandparent’s generation.

Little did we know how our lives would change with this next baby. Our quiet little foursome family would never ever be the same again.

When mom went to the delivery room, on July 3rd, 1963, just shy of fourteen months after my sister was born, she wasn’t playing the guessing game anymore. I’m sure at that point all she cared about was…get this baby out.

Finally the doctor held up her new baby, and he happily announced, “Helen, this one has outdoor plumbing!”

And so our lives were forever changed. Mom had her little firecracker with outdoor plumbing.

My brother is amazing. Amazing that he’s never grown up! He’s a little boy in a man’s body. Still full of antics and much silliness. He lives in Neverland, North Carolina. You know, with Peter Pan.

Ahhh…..the memories of life with Danny. He was all boy.

And then he grew up.

Well, physically only.

Dan has a serious side too but only it lasts for ohhhhh….maybe 30 seconds before he has to lighten the mood with a joke or make some kind of bodily noise.

Silliness aside, Dan is compassionate and kind. He puts others before himself. He’s a good man.

You may recall that I wrote about my brother ringing the bell at the hospital for finally being in remission with his leukemia. What a wonderful moment that was. He’s a very optimistic and positive soul.

We sure love him. Dan is the gift that keeps on giving and I wouldn’t trade him for the world.

Happy Birthday, Danny Boy.
I love you so very much.

♥️

Andi