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Different childhoods.

A

Alberta

Super Moderator
Staff member
I have read many stories on the forum about all our differing childhoods.

I am 66 this year I was born and brought up in the country for the first 6 years,my Dad was a miner and we wanted for nothing except a bathroom.
He became a Policeman in Birmingham and from 1948 we lived in a 3 bedroom modern house with a bathroom with hot water, I was never hungry and always had new clothes . My Dad never even raised his voice to me and my sister,my Mom was forced to give us a tap on the legs a few times,I count myself very lucky

My husband is 56,he was brought up in Alum Rock in a small terrace house with 2 brothers and 3 sisters(friends of our mate Pom).There was plenty to eat ,they were always warm and they were never smacked, Santa always brought lots of presents.

When I told him of some of the postings on the forum about the lives that others in his generation had lived in Birmingham we began to discuss why some were better off than others.Was it because some men found it easier to get jobs than others,was it because some were unable to work because of their war experiences or was it because as is the case today some did not want to work.

Steves Dad worked at Drews Lane(apart from when he fought in Italy),he never owned a car,never smoked ,he had a drink at Christmas( he died in 2006 age 96),his Mom never worked she had rheumatoid arthritis and 6 kids to care for.

I would be interested to read your views on differing childhoods.
 
Oh my Dad wanted to work alright, he just wanted to spend any money he earned in the Pub and the Bookies, just that little bit more..
 
Hi,

Kandor , that sounds just like my Dad, I had a pretty ok childhood, but it was my Nan and Nandad that took me to the seaside for holidays, and my Mom who done "the nice things" - playing post office, setting up tents and dolls houses in the back garden, playing with me and my dolls, taking me and my brother on day trips Dad was the one to take us to "the pub" which usually meant my mom, my brother and myself sitting in the grounds waiting for Dad to come out at the end of the night.

Don't get me wrong - I loved my Dad but when me and my brother were little he just didn't want to do "family" stuff , - he never once took us on holiday to the seaside, and the only outing was a trip to Marston Green every few weeks on Sunday's (after pub had closed!) or Coleshill Lido ,both were followed by a trip to one of his many favourite pubs on the way home

When I got older then he seemed to take more interest in me, he turned out to be my best mate and when he died he left both myself and my brother letters saying sorry and that he regretted not doing more with us when we were kids. I have never understood why he could not be a "family man" , I am devoted to my children and have spent many happy holidays and outings with them, everything I done when my children were young was centred around them .
 
My father worked and made good money but, like Kandor said, he enjoyed drinking his money away more than putting food on the table. My mom worked in order to feed us.

One of my earliest childhood memories was of my mother sending me and my brothers and sisters down to the corner tavern to ask my father to give us what was left of his paycheck. If we were really lucky we got there before he'd bought drinks for everyone and there was actually something to take home.

But, let me state that my mother made it a loving home for us and although there were hardships in my childhood I have been lucky in life and have much to be thankful for.

Norma
 
Hi Norma

I too have been "lucky" in life, I think the driving force for me was I was always going to give my kids all the stuff I didn't have, I don't mean Xmas/B'day Pressies, food and clothes cos Dad did make sure me and my little bro had all those things, but his "absence" in the everyday stuff - mom sorting out the bonfire instead of him, me and my brother bringing home hundreds of sticklebacks and taddies - mom sorted that out - she got an old baby bath and dug it into the ground, filled it with water and deposited all our "catch" into it, she done so much and was always happy and loving

Dad was happy to go to work but thenstraight to pub after work, never wanted to buy his own home and yet he could have afforded to, he just didn't seem to have the time for my mom and "the kids", how my mom put up with it for all those years I wil never know, they did Divorce eventually but only once me and my brother had grown up, mom said she wanted to leave my dad but stayed with him because of us.

When dad died he left me some money and told me to spend it on something I would enjoy when I got old - (I did) but he never mentioned that perhaps I should spend it on my own children - his grandchildren. I can only assume that his own childhood was not too good , thats the only thing I can think of to justify his own behaviour.
 
Blimey Alberta - look what you started ! - I just want to run and give my Mom a great big cuddle. I'll have to wait until tomorrow when she comes over and helps me with the shopping, ironing and everything else she has been doing for me since me foot has been in plaster - need to order bouquet of flowers quick time !


Where have all the smiley's gone ?
 
Sincerely well said Ratbag x Truth & courage to say,, well done,
My "childhood" a replication of Norma,s & my m8 Kandor, not much i could add,
Don,t think i want to really, sometimes Big guys don,t have courage to match such as Norma, & Mz Whiplash
Thanks,,Johny
 
These poems I wrote and are elsewhere on the forum just about sum up my childhood...
My Mom & Dad

I know that I loved my Mom and Dad.
His name was Les and she is Glad.
The love they’d shared had long since gone.
So living with them was not much fun.
They would fight and ague with all their might
We kids were scared both day and night.

Mom had a mind full of demons and ills.
The doctors proscribed her with addictive pills.
The pills they made the anger raise more.
So Dad would walk out and slam the door.
They did not divorce till us kids were all grown.
So one by one we packed up and left home.

Dad’s been dead now, many a long year.
And Mom’s confined to a wheelchair.
Glad now lives in a nursing home.
Where she’s well cared for and not alone.
This sad tale has no sad end, for she now gets visits.
And I get photos taken and sent from a kind, caring friend.
(The friend as most forum members know it's Kandy who visits Mom. I was lucky enough to met him and visit her last year).
A poem for my Dad

My Dad he was a lovely man
I'll tell you a little about him if I can.
He liked to have a lot of fun
This did not always please my Mom.

He was almost blind, but he could see
making people laugh was the way to be.
He played the piano in Brummie pubs,
this helped to clothe and feed his cubs.

With Dad on the piano and his mate Jock on the spoons
They would give our neighbours some real dance tunes.
When times were tough, or times were hard
He'd make his own brew down our back yard.

He was a VILLA fan through and through
Although could just take 'The Blues' like a number of you.
Now for my Dad please don't shed tears
'cause he's been gone a great number of years.
I know that sounds a long time dead,
but I still remember him, with love inside my head.

My Dad wanted to work, but because of his very poor sight he was always laid off first, if there were cut backs and then spent weeks trying to get another job. He found that not telling employers about his sight he got work quicker. He was very good at 'Winging it' as he called it and I must say I've done the same to get employment (I too am half blind).

Alberta's inlaws were really nice caring peolpe, I love going to their home.

Pom :angel:
 
Where do I begin? Pom your poems about your Mother and Dad are
so well put together and I am honoured to read them. The stories written by many people on this forum about their upbringing are very hard to read at times. The one thing that always comes through is how close they were
in their families.

My upbringing was similar to Alberta's in many ways and other's I know on this forum. My father was always in work and he didn't drink alcohol but wasn't against visiting a pub when the family got their first car and he would sip a half pint to be sociable. My Mother liked a drink especially at Xmas and he would buy enough booze to make a pretty decent bar for the rellies who didn't mind admitting they drank alcohol, and friends when they visted. The family owned their own house eventually but we kids were "war children" born during WW2 and grew up with ration books, and shortages of all kinds of things. My father's large family were extremely conservative with an Evangelical streak running through. My Father's Mother was in fact named Evangeline. My Grandfather always had work and he kept a small hidden keg in the pantry. There were eight children altogether.

My Mother, born in l908, an spoiled only child, grew up in Witton. Her own Father's first wife, he actually had three altogether, died of alcohol poisoning and she told me many times of the awful poverty that she saw in Witton as a child. Many people had come from country places to the city to find work. There were very few social services of any kind available to families and doctor's cost money. Men were often depressed because of the huge burdens they had on their shoulders with trying to make a living, in terrible conditions many times. Going to the pub every night was an escape for many of them. One of my best friends had a Dad like that. He had a very hard job and was very sad most of the time.
The Mom's were very often put in awful positions because of the
situation but they didn't leave and most tried to make the best of what they had. They worked very hard in every way for their children and made incredible personal sacrifices. WW2 made things even more difficult for families as well.

I often think one of the saddest things that happened as time went by
was when the City of Birmingham decided to raze to the ground the
neighbourhoods which so many had called home and felt safe within them.
Everyone looked out for each other and all that was taken away when
the families moved out to the suburbs. Their network that was so much relied upon was gone and even though the housing was better, etc. their good friends were scattered all over the place.
 
Ratbag said:
Was it courage that kept people going or was it that there was no alternative... you just had to get on with it and make the best of what you had, because you didnt know anything else, there was nothing else.

It was all of the above. And, in my case, I isolated myself from many people because I knew that the life I lived was different. I never brought friends to my house because my father would be passed out drunk at the table, which was covered with beer and whiskey bottles. And, if he woke up, I never knew what he would do. In truth, I was terrified of my father. But, on the other hand, I loved him too.

I think he was a very unhappy man and had no other means to cope with his unhappienss. I actually feel sorry for him because I don't believe anyone really wants to live their life that way.

I had one very close friend who I knew from the age of 8 and she was the only one I'd bring to my home and only because she lived under the same circumstances and so understood.

My parents separated when I was 14. My mother stayed until all of my brothers and sisters were adults and out of the house. There was no possible way that she could have managed with 5 kids on her own. It took courage for her to stay, even more courage for her to leave. She sacrificed each and every day for her children. She is the most remarkable woman I know and I am the person I am today because of her. For that, I will be eternally grateful.

Norma
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I know and I am the person I am today because of [it]. For that, I will be eternally grateful.

Click to expand...


That statement just about sums up my feelings about my childhood. No matter what our upbringing is like, good, or bad. It's all we had and made us what we are today. We make our own choices as adults in the end from our experiences, it's how we use those choices that count. I like what I am now and what I have achieved in my life, I get very cross when people use their upbringing as an excuse for being violent and antisocial. We all know and learn from an early age what makes us feel good, or badand right from wrong, so as we grow it's all down to what choices we make.

Pom

 
I learned a lot from my parents.............I just didn't know that at the time.

My Dad was a professional freelance percussionist, and travelled the country with various bands and shows. After the advent of talkies there wasn't so much work around for him and he settled at Cadbury's on nights (presumably for more money.)

So I didn't see my dad as often as my mom, but I remember that whenever he could he would spend time with me.

I was rarley smacked (not that I didn't deserve one) wanted for nothing really, and remember a great childhood with lots of happy memories and I can only thank my parents (too late now) for that.

My father taught me values..........he wouldn't get off a bus without paying......he would give his fare to another passenger to pass to the conductor if he was getting off while the conductor was upstais.......trusting soul.
 
Pomgolian said:
That statement just about sums up my feelings about my childhood. No matter what our upbringing is like, good, or bad. It's all we had and made us what we are today. We make our own choices as adults in the end from our experiences, it's how we use those choices that count. I like what I am now and what I have achieved in my life, I get very cross when people use their upbringing as an excuse for being violent and antisocial. We all know and learn from an early age what makes us feel good, or badand right from wrong, so as we grow it's all down to what choices we make.

Pom
Click to expand...

Pom,

Like you, I'd never use my childhood struggles as an excuse. I hate when people do that. It was what it was and it's in the past. I made my own choices in life and my choice was to have a better life, to make my own happiness. And, I do have a very loving family and we are all very close. I consider myself very fortunate in that sense as I often see people who have family that they never bother with or are not close to. That is very hard for me to understand. Family, in my opinion, is the single most important thing in life.

Norma
 
I had a very happy loving childhood I was born just before the war, my parents ensured we were always well fed and clothed, although with food and clothing rationing it must have been a struggle at times. We never went without a fire and I never had to fetch coke like a lot of forum members. Both my parents had a poor upbringing, one grandad was a gambler and they either lived well or had to do moonlight flits when they couldn't afford to pay the rent, and my other grandad, I believe left his family, I haven't been able to get to the bottom of this - only hints - but my father had no time for his dad, and I only saw this grandad once.

My parents were determined we would have better lives than they did, and they were always encouraging and wanted us to have a decent education so that we wouldn't have to work in factories in hard, dirty conditions they endured. They succeeded, and would be so proud that their grandchildren have done even better in life than us, going to university and having a really good standard of living.

I think the secret was loving each other and pulling together.
 
I read your post Sylvia baby...what happens IF the family didn't pull together?
 
What happens if your entire childhood was spent with one parent who was severely schitzophrenic and another who liked booze. Both kind in their way. The answer is that you live entirely inside your own head for half a lifetime and somehow try to survive.
 
Kandor, I do know it is like when couples don't pull together, although I had a very happy childhood, I didn't have a happy marriage as my husband liked his drink and although he worked hard and had a well paid job I didn't benefit from it. We were not compatible and he was always out, then he met another woman and I threw him out after I found out, that was the start of many years struggling to bring our son up single-handed with little of no financial support, however, alls well that ends well, and I have had a very happy relationship with Ray, and my son went to university and has a good life with a top job in the oil industry. I made many sacrifices but I am not in the least embittered, and now feel he did me a favour as we would probably have lived a "cat and dog" life.
 
Rupert said:
What happens if your entire childhood was spent with one parent who was severely schitzophrenic and another who liked booze. Both kind in their way. The answer is that you live entirely inside your own head for half a lifetime and somehow try to survive.
Click to expand...

Rupert, how very difficult it must have been for you.

I think one of the things no one mentioned here is that our parents were from a generation when mental illness or alcoholism wasn't spoken about. It was kept behind closed doors. There was no one to help the family or the children. There was no counseling, no Alcoholic Anonymous. It was shameful and, I know as a child, I did not tell anyone. In fact, it's rare even as an adult for me to speak so openly about it in such a public forum.

I think that life was harsher back then. People struggled more to get ahead, take care of their families, which were much larger and so had many more mouths to feed etc. There was less entertainment, i.e TV, video games or even, in some instances, radio. What did one do then? The women stayed home taking care of the kids, the men went to the pub. It almost seems a bit fatalistic, doesn't it?

The one thing I've noticed is that those who have spoken here about their childhood struggles are all very warm, kind, friendly human beings who seem to have overcome all the obstacles. That's something to be proud of, for us all! So, even though we may take a few minutes to post here about our childhood, let's not lose sight of all we've accomplished and keep moving forward. Let's keep the good memories in our lives at the forefront.

Norma
 
Hi Ratbag,

Mom always wanted to leave Dad but as you said things way back in the late 50's / early 60's were very different then. I remember many times me and Mom walking to to Nan and Nandads house very late at night, i always remember Nandad saying "lets get babby to bed" but I could hear them talking, I have an Uncle who is only 8 years older than me and many times he would come into the room and ask me if I was ok, I remember staying at Nan and Nandads for weeks on end but then mom would go home to Dad.

Once my brother was born then it was still the same, every so often we would carry blankets in the dark and go to nan's house, (Nandad died when my bro was only 6 weeks old) , again we would stay there until eventually mom would go back to dad, mom has since told me the problems she had - could not get the housing corporation to help her, felt like she was being a nuisance to her parents, could not get any money from "National Assistance" so she decided to give it "another go" - oh what my poor mom put up with - I love her so much.

I remember one night Dad came in quite late and he and Mom were arguing but It was quite bad and I got so scared, I was 11 years of age, I creeped around my bedroom in the dark and found a pair of boots, coat and an umbrella, I climbed out of bedroom window and ran from Kingshurst all along the Cooks Lane, past White Hart , down to Mackadown , into Kitts Green Rd and finally got to my Nans house, I woke everyone up (by this time my Uncle was living there with his new wife) and I sobbed into my Nan's arms, Dad was hitting Mom, I always remember my Uncle (Moms Brother) shaking in temper, next thing I know he has got in his car and drove to our house, he fetched Mom and my brother and we stayed there for six weeks or so - Mom still went back to Dad cos again Housing Department would not recognise Domestic Violence. ... Sorry If I have gone on for such a long time but life back then was not always good despite the saying "the good old days"
 
I know the title is different childhood's but mine seems so much different to many that have posted here that I feel I shouldn't post my mine for fear of further alienation. LOL

My childhood was 'Flipping Great'
 
I was born in 1940 to an embittered Mother who had been widowed 2 months before. I can understand her being like she was after all it was wartime, her husband had died,she was left with a 3year old a newborn and a mortgage................she never ceased to tell me this.

My childhood ended they day I went into Sir Josiah Mason's Orphanage.
There I learnt all of life's skills at a very young age and I learnt all of lifes values there too.

What I didn't learn was love.........after all how could anyone show love to so many children? And without being shown love how can you learn love?

I was luckier than some there, I was able to see my lovely Grandparents on occasions but all in all my life was Mason's, where I had food and clothes, a bed to sleep in and warmth. I was taught to respect others, to value life's offerings,to be polite.I learnt very early how to do housework. It was there that my love of nature started (the grounds were huge and wildlife was abundant). I learnt to find a special place in my head where,to this day, I can retreat and be on my own, even in a crowd.

I can't say my life was better than yours because I never had a taste of yours but....... my values are the same as yours, for that is the era we all grew up in.

Sadly,'til the day she died ,my Mother was never able to show love to me, maybe it was guilt.........who knows.

I am proud to a child of Sir Josiah Mason's and have tried to live up to its motto "Do Deeds of Love" (not always very well I must say!!)

Great topic and I love reading how others see their childhoods.
 
[quote=rowan;9494


. I learnt to find a special place in my head where,to this day, I can retreat and be on my own, even in a crowd.




- just how I feel even now Rowan,,, and I had a "family"
 
Langy, please do post as it would be wonderful to hear about your "flipping great!" childhood. We could all use a smile at your fond memories.

Norma
 
I must have been very fortunate; my father was in the army, abroad. Mom had to give up the house they were buying before the war and go to live with her parents, they had a three bedroom house in Aston, my grandfather had a good job and was exempt from military service ( job and age ) Mom didn’t have to go to work, life as I remember it was very good.
My father came home from the war, went back to his old employer and because of his service history was promoted.
Althoe things have sometimes been tight I have never known the sort of poverty we read about on the site.
I had very loving parents and grandparents on my mother’s side. All in all life has been good to me.
 
Hi Alberta,

Thankyou for starting this thread, It would appear that it has given many people an opportunity to express their feelings/experiences , for the first time in many many years it has made me realise that I had done nothing to be ashamed of - I was a child of a man who loved his drink, loved his kids but could never embrace "family life" , when he used to hit Mom then it was me and my younger brother who felt shame - how do you tell your school friends that your Dad hits your Mom ?.. answer .. you don't ! you just hope that a "grown up" finds out and stops it all happening .

As I said in an earlier post - My Dad become my best friend - but only because I stood up to him, he stopped hitting Mom and when Dad died I was devastated , I loved my Dad then and still love him now but I love my Mom so much - she kept it together and gave me and my brother all a child could wish for
 
I couldn't keep quiet any longer, well you wouldn't have expected me to would you? I've sure I've mentioned my childhood in other posts I've made but I can't find them so here goes. It may not fit in with the experience of others but I feel indebted to my Mom and Dad and hope to add a little balance.


My Mom was 42 when she brought me home for the first time. My sister Helen (9 years older) was disappointed, she was expecting a puppy and for the next few years teased and tormented me singing "How much is that doggy in the window" to which I would bark woof woof; did I say she tormented me? Nah, she tickled me, I was the tormentor and it continues to this day.
When I was ‘naughty’ Mom would threaten me with “you wait until your father gets home” (that never bothered me. I didn’t know this ‘Father’ she mentioned I only knew him as Dad) sometimes Mom would chase me round the garden trying to whip me with one of Dads’ tomato canes, no matter how close I let her get to me she would miss, it was difficult for her to hit a moving target especially when she was laughing and that’s what my Mom did well. At a wedding reception held at a community centre you could hear my Mom's laughter fill a room. Best of all were the times in the depths of winter when I would hear her laughing downstairs, it filled me with a sense of well being and the sort of warmth you could only get from a cuddle. It didn’t matter if 'Jack Frost' came and paid a visit to my window later that night for when morning came and I awoke someone would have tucked me in so tight I was stuck with the weight of a flannelette sheet, two thick woollen blankets doubled over, a quilted eiderdown, a candlewick bedspread and my Mom’s best coat, the one with the fur collar that used to be Aunty Marrie's

Sometimes Mom and me would take a day off school. We'd catch the train from Hamstead station and have my favourite Egg and Chips at New Street Station before going to the Co-op to get some new larger school uniform. Afterwards we would we go to the Odeon or Gaumont Cinema. Sometimes we would share a Midland Counties ice cream tub which Mom would make a scoop for herself by folding over the tub's cap. She was often full after two scoops and left me to finish it off.

I was the favourite, I never once doubted that and only recently mentioned it to my sister at a Birthday meal she prepared for my brother. Helen tried to put me right, she said she had been the favourite, always had been and always would have been; she was the apple of their eye. My brother Richard (11 years older) corrected her in a way Dad always did. He gave a wry smile and winked. He didn’t speak, he was a man of few words he just rocked his slipper on the end of his toe in that annoying manner which was his own. When it came to slipper toe rocking he reined supreme. He didn’t feel he needed to assert that he was the favourite, he smugly swung his slipper nonchalantly.
But as I left them I knew deep down they were both wrong. Cus I was the favourite.
Never heard my Mom and Dad have 'words' never entered a room to a frosty silence never knew any different, naive? absolutely.
Happy childhood?
Too true.
 
Thanks for your post Dianne....This is a very difficult subject but so many of us have prevailed and can and did come to terms with such difficult situations in growing up. Love conquers so many things it seems and many people never gave up on their parents.
 
Lovely post Langy. It does add balance. It sounds like you had wonderful parents and a happy life.

Norma
 
Although my mom left me and dad when I was eight, I still had my wonderful nan for a couple of years, then an aunt moved in until I was thirteen, then there was just me and dad. Mom used to take me with her when she met the other chap, "here's a Mars Bar and don't tell your dad about this".
I did the shopping and the housework, but when I reached my late teens it must have been very difficult for him - he was always worried I'd "end up just like my mom". I always knew he loved me though and used to tell schoolfriends that mom had died (because I felt ashamed that she'd left us and was convinced it was my fault). It was more than two years after she'd left that my aunt took me to see this strange woman who hugged me and cried. Dad was not to be told - another secret.
All in all though, I got on with life, got into a few scrapes and near misses but turned out OK I guess - but I always envied friends that had both parents.
 
We all turned out OK, Charlie. I'd bet, more people had lives like us than we could ever imagine. They just never spoke about it.

Norma
 
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