Don't look back in anger, or at least try not to. Part 1.

The Taylor Family 1982-83?
Back left to front right:
James, Nancy, Laura, Charles

Anybody that knows me, and by that I mean has really spent time with me in the last decade, knows some or all of the story of my family. For those of you that don't, this post will fill you in all you need to know.

My mother's maiden name was Brewer. She was one of the six children of Arthur Raymond Brewer and Helen Viola Klausing. My mother was the youngest of the children and was born in 1954. Grandpa was a farmhand his whole life, he served in World War II, and he is easily the greatest man I've ever or ever will know. Grandma was a homemaker and did the hard work of cleaning the house, raising the children, and feeding the family.

Arthur Raymond Brewer, Helen Viola Brewer
Laura and me

My grandparents were adolescents of The Great Depression. Nothing went to waste and everything was earned through hard work. My grandmother raised huge gardens of fruits, vegetables, and flowers. She raised and harvested animals for pets and for food. She knew how to kill, clean, and fry a chicken. My grandfather worked in the fields until sundown most days. He knew how to maintain the house and equipment because he had no other choice.

My mother's entire immediate family was at her wedding.

My maternal grandparents were the foundation that held my mother's family together. Raising six children on a limited budget during the notoriously conservative era of the 50's and the turbulent decade of the 60's was almost certainly no easy task. However they did it, and to this day I have four aunts and one uncle that still see and talk to each other on a monthly if not weekly basis. Even with my grandparents gone, the bond still holds up. It's because the family was taught that no matter how rough things got or how much somebody upset you or was a pain in your ass, you stuck together and supported each other. My mother felt a deep connection to my grandparents. She was the youngest and she was also the last to move out of the house. So while my aunts and uncle were all married and raising their own families, my mother lived at home and helped with the housework. To this day my mom says that when she lost grandma she didn't lose her mother, she lost her best friend. 

Nancy Brewer and James Taylor

 I will firmly argue that my mother was a very attractive woman. She was above what most shallow men would consider desirable weight, but  in those horn-rim specs and with her long hair. Maybe she was just born in the wrong era. 

She was a wallflower with low self-esteem. She tried going to school for nursing after high-school but dropped out to get a full-time job and help support her parents. She recently told me, "I'd come home from work and then I'd help your grandmother in the gardens at night. I began to think to myself. Is this all there is to life?"

That said...enter James Willis Taylor.