Friday, August 25, 2006

Back then

My great grandmother escaped to New Zealand from an abusive husband. A drunk. They were living in Ireland when she decided she couldn't take it anymore. It had to be a tricky, sneaky exit with her 13 children, trying to make it to that big boat on time, without the father's knowledge. They were at the end of the wharf when they saw him coming, my great grandmother pushing her children in front of her, climbing the plank to the ship. He was running, shouting, shaking with anger. But there on the wharf, lived a friendly, slippery patch of wood. Or maybe it was nothing at all. But he slipped, and broke his leg. And the family never looked back. Or they did, and cried.

2 Comments:

Blogger Lx said...

(insert Nelson the Bully laugh at end of post)

12:17 PM  
Anonymous mary_bc said...

And we think we have it hard today eh. In many ways it is harder I suppose..in that there's simply too much on our plates to ever do one thing really well. Back then life was sort of mapped out for you..well for women anyway.

Am sure I would've been a very unconventional gal..who if she wasn't given or left a healthy allowance would have lived on the quirkier side of society.

What a trip it must've bean..13 children..and all healthy enough to have made that trip..wow. She must've been an amazing women..who may have been strong enoug mentally to create that spill her hubby took with shear will. Good on her.

Did they all make it safely and what became of them?

Loaded question I know..specially since it concerns 14 people.

My dad's mom had 14..shit I can't even think in those numbers when it comes to children. Unreal.

Great story tui..

x0x

1:15 AM  

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