Dear Cory and Rory,
I collaborated on my mom’s memoir with her husband and his publisher friend. It took a lot of work, made all the harder by the little time available. I am not a writer by any stretch of the imagination. I wanted to maintain a narrative true to my mother’s voice, colorful and descriptive. Certain regional colloquialisms proved hard to edit. I had to correct dates and other facts. I compiled sheets outlining our family’s genealogy. I had many email conversations with mom’s sister, Karen, to recover some stories. I selected photos from hundreds stored away, adding names and descriptions. Aunt Mary sent several photos, including one of my mother at seven years old, the only photo I’ve seen of my mother as a child.What a blessed discovery!
The Luby family eventually left Nebraska for Idaho. Mom recalled her youngest brother, Kent, then seven years old leaving his dog Terry behind as they drove away from the farm. He loved his dog and was crushed.
Several older Luby children and other family members had already settled in the Boise valley. They made all the arrangements for the re-settlement. The family arrived in Boise on my mother’s 16th birthday.
I remember my grandma’s and grandpa’s tiny house. Their oldest children bought it for them in the 1940’s. It had two dinky bedrooms which seven people then shared. By today’s standards it would be considered a shack.
But the property itself was beautiful – big trees, an irrigation ditch running through the front yard and a dilapidated chicken coop in back. It was an awesome fantasyland for us grandkids. Grandpa loved his yard and he would sit there with us singing his nonsense songs. Grandma even had a washing machine. She had several washing machines that wound up repossessed while she lived on the farm. Mom recalled how grandma cried one such time because it was also her birthday.
P.S. – Part 3 will appear tomorrow.