Happy Birthday, Daddy!

Today would have been my father's 100th birthday. Ira H. Dombach was born February 21, 1909 to Harvey and Mary Dombach. I don't know much about my father's childhood. I don't recall hearing stories from his childhood when I was growing up. Perhaps my older brothers and sisters recall stories he told, but I don't have any. But I do have a few memories of my father during my childhood.

Daddy used to go to a chiropractor in Ephrata. Strange as it may seem we loved to be the one to ride with him when he went to his appointments. When the appointment was over, he would often take us for an ice cream cone at Ephrata Cloister Dairy. And it was there that he would buy the 2 1/2 gallon tub of ice cream that would become our Sunday evening supper. Often it was chocolate, but in the early spring and summer we sometimes enjoy the fruity flavors of strawberry and peach. Being invited to go on errands with Daddy was always special and some sort of treat was usually included in the outing. I remember going for drives with our parents when we were young or to Palmyra to visit our relatives. For many years (at least until Linda was about 4), I was always the one nudged to ask Daddy if we could stop for ice cream. And then we all waited with bated breath while Daddy asked Mom (in Pennsylvania Dutch) what she thought about the idea. My parents spoke to each other in Pennsylvania Dutch when they didn't want us kids to know what they were saying; however, though we never learned to speak Dutch there were certain things we learned to understand!

Before I was born my dad owned a greenhouse. During this time he built his own home on a small plot of land. When I was 6 months old my parents sold the house and moved to a farm near Landis Valley, because, I am told, the growing family needed more space. So my growing up years were spent on the farms that my parents rented - first at Landis Valley, then Millersville, and finally Manheim. At Millersville I remember helping to farm tobacco. When I was old enough my job was to drop the lathes used to string up the tobacco and then to drive the tractor to load up the tobacco and take it to the barn for drying. I also remember times in the "stripping room" helping to strip and size tobacco. It was a family job; everyone worked together to get the jobs done.

One of the legacies our father left us was the legacy of love for his wife and the evidence of strong marriage and family relationships. My memory may be dim, but I don't remember ever hearing my parents fight. They respected each other and valued each other's ideas and opinions. And though my father was not demonstrative in his love toward his children, we never doubted that he loved us. He may not have spoken the words "I love you" to us but his love for us was genuine. We just knew that we could count on Dad even when we "messed up." He encouraged us by working along side us, gently showing us the way to work, to live, to love, and to believe in God. And even though they may not have had much money, he always took Mother out to Kegels for an oyster dinner on their anniversary and for a banana split on her birthday. And Daddy never went away without first coming and giving Mother a good-bye kiss. On the night he died, he got up from the table and gave Mother a kiss before heading back out to the field. She asked him where he was going. Somewhat surprised he said, "nowhere." An hour later the tractor upset and he died on the way to the hospital. It was as though he knew he was going Home and he wanted to tell her "good-bye." Daddy died on May 24, 1963. He was 54. I was 14. I wish I had more memories of him than what I do, but I will always cherish those I do.

Happy Birthday, Daddy! I wish you were here to celebrate!

Christmas Memories

I'm feeling nostalgic today. Looking at old family pictures will do that to a person. But the whole Christmas season lends itself to reflection and memories, I think. So I was contemplating some of the things that I remember from my childhood regarding Christmas. Here are a few of them.

Being the second to the youngest in the family made waiting for Christmas morning hard. After all everybody had to be up before the whole gift unwrapping thing could take place. And I had four older teenage sisters and brothers who went out on Christmas Eve caroling with the youth group - and yes, that was in the old days, caroling didn't start until late which meant they didn't get home until midnight or later, so of course they didn't want to get up early on Christmas morning. To a child it seemed like forever before they got up - looking back I know it probably wasn't; after all we did live on a farm!

Hot chocolate and Christmas cookies for breakfast on Christmas morning! After all, one needed to have something in the tummy before the serious business of gifts took place. And it was the one time of the year when we were allowed to have more than two cookies. (The normal two cookies only rule was, I'm sure, born of necessity - with 8 kids in the house can you imagine how fast a batch of cookies could be eaten.)

Gifts lovingly made by Mother. If I got a doll for Christmas, it wasn't just the doll, but a doll with a complete wardrobe. This wardrobe usually included coat and hat, a dress or two, and a nightgown, usually matching dresses and/or pajamas that I had. American girl dolls with the matching dresses for the doll's owner have nothing over my mother's creations. I also remember the year bride dolls were all the rage and I wanted one. My mother crafted a beautiful bride's dress and veil for my doll that year. I think I still have it in the attic somewhere.

No doll is complete without a bed to sleep in or a carriage to ride in. Mother made a mattress, pillow, and embroidered quilt for the bed and again for the carriage when I received those as Christmas gifts. Another special gift I remember (I think I was probably 9 or 10) was a beautiful dollhouse, complete with a doorbell and "electric" light, and all the furnishings. I had to wait patiently while my older brothers assembled the dollhouse so I could play with it.

One of the other treasured gifts from my childhood that I remember was from Grandma (I think Dombach). She used to give us a little trinket or something and I remember the year I received a gift similar to the "big" girls. Mine was a little ceramic watering can flower pot. I don't think it was really big enough to plant anything in - it was more cute than functional, but I had that little pot well into my married life. It may still be packed away with other collectibles that I no longer have room to display. Grandma also gave me one year a little puppy dog pincushion - with a tongue that pulled out to be a tape measure and a thimble for the tale. It went into my sewing kit for junior high home ec and I used it for many years.

Christmas was and still is a time for celebrating the birth of our Saviour with family and friends. The memories only make those celebrations sweeter.

You Know You're an Antique when . . .

. . . the stuff you see at an antique show are the things you played with, ate with, and generally used all your life! Elvin and I took a walk this afternoon down to Lititz Springs Park where the annual antiques and collectibles show was going on. Ah, the memories as we strolled through the park looking at all the items the various vendors had displayed.

Remember that set of yellow, green, red, and aqua mixing bowls that Mom used all the time (and we girls, too, for that matter as we learned to cook and bake.) I saw a complete set of them for $35.00. Actually, I thought that was probably a good price - the set was complete and it looked like it hadn't been used much. As we continued to walk around, I realized I could have bought all the bowls, except the red one, individually - $10 for the aqua one, $18 for the yellow one, and $15 for the green one - all at different stands. So for less than the cost of the individual bowls, I could have actually had a complete set. And to think that my mother-in-law still uses hers on a regular basis!

Continuing on I found a peanut butter glass with a red tulip for $12. At another stand there were a few more of the peanut butter glasses: a red rose ($15), Christmas Holly ($15), another red tulip ($10), and one or two others for $10 as well. Funny thing though, they had a morning glory for only $2. Can you believe it? - our parents actually let us drink out of those glasses! And if one got broken, it was no big deal. There were plenty more. However, I am guessing that for those of you who are fortunate enough to have some of those glasses, you better hang on to them.

There were a few other items that brought back memories of days on the farm, such as old galvanized watering cans. Somehow they weren't as dented as the one I remember; maybe the families that used them didn't have kids kicking them around. We saw a sausage press, a wooden butter churn, egg scales and wire egg baskets (although the basket we saw wasn't that old), and several of the red handled cooking utensils (egg beater and potato masher) like Mom used just to name a few. Elvin found an "oatmeal" dish; dishes that he said came in the oatmeal. I don't remember those, do you?

Several of the vendors had books that either Elvin or I remembered reading during our elementary school years. And a few toys that caused Elvin to wish he had kept his old toys. I can't help but wonder what things we should be keeping that might be of value someday. What will evoke memories in our children as they visit antique shows in the future? And what of the things that we think of as junk will be of value - could it be something as simple as the Styrofoam cup from Starbucks? After all, I am sure that our parents would have never imagined that the gallon oyster cans they brought home would be worth $20 one day.

All in all, it was a lot of fun just wandering around and looking. We didn't actually buy anything, but we enjoyed the experience of taking a few steps back in time. It also made me realize again that our parents didn't throw things away if they could be used again. Somehow, we have lost some of that. Why doesn't peanut butter (or other items for that matter)for example still come in containers that not only have some additional use but are also pretty? Might even be worth a few extra cents!

Memories

I've been thinking a lot lately about family and the importance of staying connected with one's family. Maybe it's because I am rapidly approaching the big "6-0" and realizing that none of us is getting any younger. Also, just recently I put all those pictures from Jim's "Trip Down Memory Lane" last summer into my scrapbook. That process made me start thinking about all the stories we shared during both that experience and our cabin weekends, and how we have often talked about preserving some of those stories for our children and grandchildren. I realized, too, how we often wish we could get together more often and just share what is happening in our lives, but time, distance, and the busyness of life gets in the way.

That's when the idea of a Dombach Family blog began to take shape. A place where we can connect, where we can share what's happening in our lives and the lives of our individual families. Perhaps even share a few pictures of the grandchildren, etc.

The idea of a Heritage scrapbook has not been lost. I have the pictures. I have a few stories. It is still my hope to see that happen (if I can ever find some time to devote to the project). But in the meantime pehaps we can begin to preserve some of those memories by putting our stories into print.

Just a few rambling thoughts; I'm sure there will be more. For now, I will be working on setting up this blog site so that hopefully each of my brothers and sisters will be able to add their own thoughts.