It was'nt long after Dad came home from the War, that he asked Mom if she was ready to leave for Missouri with him. They would live on the farm he had inherited when his Mother, my GrandMother, had passed away. They would visit Texas often.
Daddy had not been to her grave. She had died before he was able to get home. She knew I was on the way. Her first born was killed in France during WW1. She always thought her last born would be killed there too. France was a horrible place to her. Dad really needed to visit her grave.
His Dad, my Grand Father, had established the Cemetery when their first born had been brought back from France. His grave was the first, and now, many years later, his Mother lay next to his Dad.
My Mom had never been further than a couple of hours from her Dad and all she had ever known. Of course she said yes, and together the three of us moved to a beautiful farm in Northeastern Missouri.
The farm house was a huge two story home with porches. There were barns and beautiful terraced pasture land.
My Dad had a brother living close by, and a sister, so there were alot of family around. His other two brothers lived in Chicago and Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Mom was not lonely, and enjoyed her sisters in law very much.
She was not use to the harsh winters, and found not being able to get outside week after week a little depressing, but vowed to make the most of it.
One evening during Dinner, she and Dad noticed I had put my head down on my high chair. When they went to check on me they found I was burning with fever and limp.
They both hurriedly bundled me up and got me in the car and headed to the nearest hospital. Dad ran in and told them the situation, and they refused to admit me, since Dad had no insurance, and had not worked in four years (Army was not considered a job).
He ran back to the car, and the three of us headed to the next hospital. The same thing happened. No admittance.
The third hospital, my Mom said, let me try. She ran into the hospital, and was met by two Nuns. She began to cry and explain the whole situation to them. They assured her, they refused no one, and one of them comforted her, while the other went out to the car to get me and my Dad.
Several days went by, and I was severely ill with double pneumonia. The Doctors told my Dad they really did not think I would make it, and on the third night, I began to get better. To everyones relief, God did spare me, and after two more weeks I was able to go home.
Several weeks after that, Dad and Mom decided the winters were too bad for this Texas girl, (I always thought both Texas girls) and they announced to the family we were moving back to Moms hometown. They would sell all of the farm equipement, and have an estate sale, and rent the farm house out.
My Aunts and Uncles were waiting for an appropriate time to tell my Dad that the hospital I had been taken too was the same hospital my Grandmother, his mother had died in.....They took this opportunity to tell him.....
The room I had been in was the same room she had been in.... They all felt her spirit had watched over me. A grandmother I would never meet had become one of Gods angels to watch over a granddaughter she would never hold.
I grew up with this story, and even tho I was named after her, not until I stood at the foot of her grave and saw my name on her tombstone, did I feel fully connected to her...
One Day after Halloween, the following year, Dad got a call from Missouri. Seems the people that rented Dads old homeplace sat jacklelantens in the windows. Somehow the flame from one of the candles caught the curtains on fire, and the beautiful old house burned to the ground........
The fruit/storm cellar and the well pump next to where the kitchen was is all that is left...
