I just talked to my mom on the phone as I do most everyday, and the woman that used to stand tall and proud is now sounding frail and weak. She was a woman who kept the family together even when the odds said otherwise. My dad had a major truck wreck in 1965, and was literally crushed by the truck with forty percent brain damage. Mom stood by his side even though they said he would never wake up. Thirty four days later he proved them wrong.

Dad stayed over a year in the hospital and another year bed rest at home. Mom held down two jobs to make ends meet, and fought with SSA, and the insurance company, that said dad could work!

The government took away the food commodities because we planted a garden, and got ten laying hens. Mom worked and took food from the churches that offered their help. Then my brother was born and that meant four kids to feed.

Dad got his settlement about that time, and it was $143.00 for the rest of his life, plus SSA. Mom continued to work and make school meetings, and kids’ outings, so nobody would think that we were different than anyone else.

I stole cases of food once thinking that it would help the family. Mom scolded me and I told her we had to have it. She did not argue, but nine years later I came home on leave from the army, and she gave me the food back. That was a valuable lesson!

We moved to Oregon where we continued to plant big gardens, raise our own chickens, pigs, and beef. Dad had a friend who had a ranch, and he let dad work on that ranch whenever dad was able. My dad ached, hurt, and spit blood, every day of the rest of his life, and held down hard jobs so mom didn’t have to.

Some days mom sat with dad and work his ribs out of his lung; as they were wired together, so he could work another day. There were times when dad would go off the deep end because of the brain damage, and either tear the house up, or lay on the floor and twitch. Mom held us together through all of that, and then some.

Before school I fed the animals, while my sisters helped in kitchen. Late spring I killed ten to fifteen chickens a day before school, so mom could get them dressed out and froze. Being raised like this, I have a hard time understanding people that get a pimple on their butt and can’t work.

My parents instilled in me a way of life and work ethics that will never go away. I am very proud of my parents for doing the very best that they could with what little they had, and a mom that held us all together no matter how rough it got.

By: James Grimes
My Parents: James & Bobbie Grimes
6/12/09

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