My Mum's memoirs CHAPTER 1

I'll write more about my week later but after writing last week about my grandparents and my mum, I thought I'd start transcribing a bit of my mum's memoirs, I think mum was quite good at writing and sometimes it makes me giggle a bit, she was a bit prone to re-writing or re-telling history but I think it makes interesting reading about her life.  I know there is quite a bit that is typed up somewhere but in front of me I have a rather old, red hardbacked notepad, full of her handwriting and memories which she started to write in March 1969.  I won't change anything, it tells of her life growing up in Poland, Austria and then in England.

So let us begin ...

***

March 1969

I was born in Katowice in Poland but we lived in Myslowice, a small town nearby.  I had no brothers or sisters.

I remember still crawling around.  I was very late in walking.  I remember coming down the stairs the first time.

The houses were large flats, mostly very old and rambling.  I think we lived on the third floor.  My mother was friendly with everyone and we spent hours in other peoples' flats, mother talking and me crawling around.  On one of these visits I remember the lady gave me lemon tea in a high glass in a silver holder.  I got a splinter in my bottom on that visit.

When I was 2 and a half there was great excitement in our 'haus'.  Everyone was preparing for the Sacred Heart processions.  Baskets were brought, lined and flowers were to be put in them to scatter in the street before the priest.  I was coached for hours how to take the flowers out of the basket and how to throw them.  Mother made me a beautiful white dress, white stockings and shoes, also a headress of flowers.

It was to be a great day, all the little girls in the town under 5 were in the procession.

It was a sunny day, but chilly, the flowers smelled beautifully.

A few days later I was very ill.  One night I was all hot.  Mother and father kept washing me, putting rolls of cloth dipped in water with vinegar in it around my body.  I didn't want them to do it but all night they worked.  As soon as I was tired and hot, they would take off the cloths on me, and put on freezing stinking cloths again.

Next morning I was very weak.  The doctor came: he could not believe I was still alive.  Many little girls had died that week. They had all been in that procession!

Gradually I got better.  At first after that night I would think I would die.  I wasn't frighted, they would put a head dress of flowers on my hair, and bury me in the garden.  I was quite content.

I was given hot water to drink in the mornings.  I thought it was horrible.  The only thing to eat was some sour milk which I hated too.  But they must have done me some good.

We had two large rooms, a bedroom and living room.  I remember one night I woke up and there was no-one there!  I screamed and cried but no-one came, so I went to the window and opened it and screamed!  Mother had a collection of potted plants - so I threw them one by one out of the window!

They had been in the flat below.  The noise of the flower pots had drawn some attention and mother came back.

When I was three I was taken to the kindergarten.  The nuns taught the children.  We were taught to do handiwork, weaving with coloured strips of paper, making little trays etc.

We were all taken to the toilet several times a day.  The girls wore knickers and vest combined, made of cotton with a flap buttoned up on the waist which was let down, as we could not manage the buttons at the back the nuns had to do it for us.

In the morning mother would give me a Groshen for a cake.  In the bakers housewives would take thier baking, bread which had been done at home, and large sheets of cake.

One day  decided  did not want to go to school.  I bought my cake and wandered into the city streets looking in the shops.  Then a great figure stood before me.  It was my father.  He was not surprised that I had not gone to school.

We went through the town, then we went into a cellar where there were men playing cards.  I sat beside my fater, he too played with them.

I felt a searing pain on my head.  My father had burnt me with a cigarette.

Father was always in a lot of trouble with mother.  She would shout at him, he was always very quiet.

In the cellar of the house was kept barrels of sauerkraut for the winter.  When the cabbage was large it was bought and shredded.  It was then put in barrels with salt and two people would get into the barrel with bare feet and stamp on it.  One day father was stamping the cabbage with a girl from the upstairs flat, Marynka, and mother came in.  I was there and  was terrified.  Mother made such a fuss I thought I had done something wrong too.  There were terrible rows, mother bought up Marynka's name for years afterwards.

***

Hope you enjoyed it so far.

Terry