This week we welcome back Jennifer AlLee to Author Memories.
Jennifer AlLee believes the most important thing a woman can do is discover her identity in God – a theme that carries throughout her stories.
She has written skits, activity pages, and over one hundred contributions to Concordia Publishing House’s popular My Devotions series.
A multi-published novelist in the Women's Fiction genre, Jennifer has two novels releasing this year alone.
Jennifer resides in the grace-filled city of Las
Vegas with her husband and teenage son.
She has written skits, activity pages, and over one hundred contributions to Concordia Publishing House’s popular My Devotions series.
A multi-published novelist in the Women's Fiction genre, Jennifer has two novels releasing this year alone.
Jennifer resides in the grace-filled city of Las
Vegas with her husband and teenage son.
Daughters and Mothers Together
by Jennifer AlLee
I come from a long line of stubborn…eh…strong women. Just look at this picture. Four generations gathered together. You might think we were all in one place because it was a holiday or some other special occasion. It may have been (since someone had to take the picture) but in truth, we were always together.
If you read my earlier Author Memories story, you may remember that I grew up in
Hollywood, CA in an apartment above a mortuary. That’s where all four of us women lived. Let me introduce you...
If you read my earlier Author Memories story, you may remember that I grew up in
Hollywood, CA in an apartment above a mortuary. That’s where all four of us women lived. Let me introduce you...
(L to R) Meta Wittrock (my great-grandmother), Marie Staats (grandma), Jennifer (me), and Rose-Marie Taylor (mom).
From the left we have Meta Wittrock (my great-grandmother), Marie Staats (grandma), Jennifer (me), and Rose-Marie Taylor (mom). We started out living in three different apartments , but since my mom was divorced and the other two were widowed, we eventually all ended up sharing the biggest of the apartments, which was my grandmother’s.
Interestingly enough, they continued to rent the other two. I remember that great-grandma’s apartment was tiny, but full of fun stuff, like her piano, her doll collection, and a bed so big you had to crawl over it to get to the kitchenette. And mom’s old apartment was where my
dog, Tinkerbell, lived. It was also where we went to do the laundry on an old, forest-green, barrel-shaped machine with a crank-by-hand ringer. Then we’d take the wet clothes to the roof and hang them on the line to dry. Yes, my friends, all this was in the heart of Holly-weird.
You might be wondering how we ended up living above a mortuary at all. Well, they all worked there at one time or another. My grandmother (the former ballet dancer) pretty much ran the place, meeting people and being a PR expert. My great-grandmother (the former beautician) prettied up the dearly departed by doing their hair and makeup. And my mother (when she wasn’t working one block away as the switchboard operator at The Broadway department store on the corner of Hollywood and Vine) filled in from time to time doing more
office-related jobs. Because of this setup, there was almost always someone upstairs with me when one of the others was off working.
Growing up in a house full of women has its benefits, but it also gets confusing. I never could figure out which one to call “Grandma” and which to call “Great-grandma.”At one point, I started addressing my great-grandmother as “Grandma” and my grandmother as “Great Marie.” Finally, someone decided it would be easier if I just called my grandmother by her first name, a solution which simplified my life, but confused the women of the First
Baptist Church’s Berean Bible Study group.
Interestingly enough, they continued to rent the other two. I remember that great-grandma’s apartment was tiny, but full of fun stuff, like her piano, her doll collection, and a bed so big you had to crawl over it to get to the kitchenette. And mom’s old apartment was where my
dog, Tinkerbell, lived. It was also where we went to do the laundry on an old, forest-green, barrel-shaped machine with a crank-by-hand ringer. Then we’d take the wet clothes to the roof and hang them on the line to dry. Yes, my friends, all this was in the heart of Holly-weird.
You might be wondering how we ended up living above a mortuary at all. Well, they all worked there at one time or another. My grandmother (the former ballet dancer) pretty much ran the place, meeting people and being a PR expert. My great-grandmother (the former beautician) prettied up the dearly departed by doing their hair and makeup. And my mother (when she wasn’t working one block away as the switchboard operator at The Broadway department store on the corner of Hollywood and Vine) filled in from time to time doing more
office-related jobs. Because of this setup, there was almost always someone upstairs with me when one of the others was off working.
Growing up in a house full of women has its benefits, but it also gets confusing. I never could figure out which one to call “Grandma” and which to call “Great-grandma.”At one point, I started addressing my great-grandmother as “Grandma” and my grandmother as “Great Marie.” Finally, someone decided it would be easier if I just called my grandmother by her first name, a solution which simplified my life, but confused the women of the First
Baptist Church’s Berean Bible Study group.
Great grandma and Jenny at Patty's Wedding
One thing I learned from these women was the importance of respecting your elders. The picture above is of my great-grandmother and I at the wedding of my Sunday School teacher, Patty. I was a flower girl. My mom wanted to make sure I didn’t wander off at the reception, so she told me to “take care of Grandma.” Apparently, I took my charge very seriously. She says I never left great-grandma’s side. From the expression on my face, I’d say no one was going to cross me and mess with my grandma!
The relationship between mothers and daughters is a complex one, full of joys and sorrows, ups and downs. Looking at these pictures brings back only the good memories, the things that make me smile. Maybe today would be a good day for you to pull out your photo album or scrapbook and take a sentimental stroll down memory lane. Enjoy the journey!
How about you? Have you ever lived in a multi-generational home? What have the elder women in your family taught you?
The relationship between mothers and daughters is a complex one, full of joys and sorrows, ups and downs. Looking at these pictures brings back only the good memories, the things that make me smile. Maybe today would be a good day for you to pull out your photo album or scrapbook and take a sentimental stroll down memory lane. Enjoy the journey!
How about you? Have you ever lived in a multi-generational home? What have the elder women in your family taught you?
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Giveaway!
Leave a comment with a valid email address
by midnight, Apr 22
if you want to be entered to win a copy of Jennifer's novel,
The Mother Road.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Giveaway!
Leave a comment with a valid email address
by midnight, Apr 22
if you want to be entered to win a copy of Jennifer's novel,
The Mother Road.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Mother Road, Abingdon Press, Apr 2012
Sometimes, the end of the road is just the beginning.
Natalie Marino has made a career writing about happily-ever-afters, making her own life an open book in order to help others. She never expected her husband, to come home one day and demand a divorce so he can be with his pregnant mistress. To Natalie, who's struggled with infertility, it's the worst betrayal imaginable. She's still dealing with the shock when her father calls, delivering another blow: Her mother's Alzheimer's has progressed. He wants Natalie and her sister to come
home while she can still recognize them.
Desperate for a change of scenery, Natalie decides a road trip is in order, even if her estranged sister isn't the most obvious travelling companion. She and Lindsay will take Route 66 – the mother road – from Santa Monica, California, to their childhood home in Illinois. But when she picks up her sister, she's in for another shock: Lindsay is pregnant.
In a road trip that's one part Lucy and Ethel, one part Thelma and Louise, the two sisters trade snarky barbs, visit quirky tourists spots, and dodge Ben, Lindsay's ex-boyfriend turned stalker. Will their trip down the mother road bring the two sisters closer together, or turn out to be the biggest wrong turn yet?
Excerpt of Chapter 1 of The Mother Road
Natalie Marino has made a career writing about happily-ever-afters, making her own life an open book in order to help others. She never expected her husband, to come home one day and demand a divorce so he can be with his pregnant mistress. To Natalie, who's struggled with infertility, it's the worst betrayal imaginable. She's still dealing with the shock when her father calls, delivering another blow: Her mother's Alzheimer's has progressed. He wants Natalie and her sister to come
home while she can still recognize them.
Desperate for a change of scenery, Natalie decides a road trip is in order, even if her estranged sister isn't the most obvious travelling companion. She and Lindsay will take Route 66 – the mother road – from Santa Monica, California, to their childhood home in Illinois. But when she picks up her sister, she's in for another shock: Lindsay is pregnant.
In a road trip that's one part Lucy and Ethel, one part Thelma and Louise, the two sisters trade snarky barbs, visit quirky tourists spots, and dodge Ben, Lindsay's ex-boyfriend turned stalker. Will their trip down the mother road bring the two sisters closer together, or turn out to be the biggest wrong turn yet?
Excerpt of Chapter 1 of The Mother Road
Jennifer invites you to visit her online at the following places:
website
blog
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Inkwell Inspirations
website
blog
Inkwell Inspirations
