Post by Susan Peabody on Aug 27, 2020 16:22:08 GMT
My name is Susan Peabody and 58 years ago today, Kathleen Peabody gave birth to me. This is the story of my mother’s life. I may have some of the facts wrong, or my sisters may remember things differently, but this is my best recollection.
Kathleen Horan was born on June 8, 1922 in Omaha, Nebraska to Blanche Coffman Horan and Phillip Edward Horan. She had two older brothers—Phillip and William. Kathleen’s father was a lawyer and her mother was a homemaker and early feminist. Her mother often chaperoned young ladies on trips to Europe so Kathleen got to spend at least one year in France. One of the saddest events in Kathleen’s early life was even though she had the highest score ever recorded on the entrance exam of her college, her parents would not let her attend medical school.
Eventually, Kathleen’s parents separated and she moved to Los Angeles with her mother. Back then they still had orange groves and there was no Disneyland. During World War II mom worked at the telephone company. Because she had such a lovely speaking voice they had her handle the long distance calls.
Toward the end of World War II mom attended a dance in Long Beach where she met a handsome young man stationed there in the Navy. He had just been overseas on a destroyer fighting the war in the Pacific. His name was Donald Charles Peabody. They fell in love quickly and married two weeks later.
Donald brought Kathleen back to Rodeo to live with his parents until they could get student housing in Berkeley where Donald would soon enroll in the University of California to study engineering.
It was while Kathleen and Donald lived in UC Village that they gave birth to 4 children. Cheryl, Nancy, Susan, and Edward. All of this in two and a half years.
Kathleen’s first pregnancy was uneventful until her seventh month when she went into labor on the bus headed for a doctor’s appointment in Oakland. The next day Cheryl was born and 9 minutes later Nancy. Donald rushed out to buy a second crib as twins where a delightful surprise but the babies were so small they ended up putting them both side by side in the same crib. As many of you know, they still sleep side by side in adjoining apartments.
About 16 months later I was born, so from this point on in the story I am going to talk about mom and dad instead of Donald and Kathleen.
Not long after my birth my brother Eddie was born. This completed the family which did not grow again for 20 years.
In 1950, dad graduated from the University of California and he and mom moved to Rolling Hills, right down the street here in San Pablo. They then moved to a housing division known as Montalvin Manor and finally ended up in Pinole so daddy could build a boat in the backyard.
Like most women at the end of World War II, mom devoted herself to the family. She was an excellent cook and her style was to cook meals and then freeze them for baking later. Stouffers still owes mom a lot of money for stealing her idea. My favorite of all her delicacies was her home made macaroni and cheese. She also liked to bake cookies. Every day, when we came home from school, two oatmeal cookies (wrapped in wax paper) were waiting for us.
Mom was also an excellent seamstress. She made all of our clothes. She stayed up all night sometimes to surprise us in the morning with some special new outfit.
Mom was very creative and artistic. This came out in the beautifully decorated cakes she made year after year. My favorite was her doll cake. She had a mold in the shape of a long dress and she would decorate it and stick a doll in the middle. In later years her artistry came out in the way she decorated flowers.
When I was 14 tragedy struck the family. My brother was electrocuted in a horrible accident at my grandparents house. Mom never got over Eddie’s death. She carried on, but she never really stopped grieving.
The grief of my brother’s death tore my parents apart and eventually they divorced. My mother never really got over this either. Her family was her whole live.
Mom had grown up Catholic, but when Eddie died she turned to God more earnestly. She eventually found the comfort of the Seventh Day Adventist Church where she worshiped until shortly before her death. Mom loved God . . . and God loved her.
Despite her intelligence and creativity, mom’s true calling was children. So God blessed her in 1969 with a granddaughter—Kathleen. I named my daughter after mom and even though she prefers to be called Kathy, she will always be Kathleen to me.
Two years later mom had her son back in the form of her first grandson, Karl. She took both Kathy and Karl under her wing and helped me raise them. Being a single parent was hard and I could not have kept my family together if it were not for mom. Close to her death Karl was able to talk to mom about his fond memories of these days. She would pick them up at school on Friday afternoons . . . take them home to the best meal they had all week, and then bring them to church with her on Sabbath. She had them dedicated when they were quite young in the Seventh Day Adventist Church. I will always regret not participating in these family gatherings. But I was a wayward child and had not yet found the Lord.
Mom loved being a grandmother so God blessed her with two more grandchildren, Christine and Chaleen. She sewed and cooked for them just as she had for her first family and my children. Every generation has benefitted from her grace including her great grandchildren, Isabelle, Richard Junior, Hailey and Dustin. And there is one more baby that she will have to nurture from her place with God. Richard and Christine will be giving birth very soon.
Despite her homemaking skills, mom was always a scholar. She read constantly and was a student of the Bible. When my sister Nancy moved in with her 13 years ago they studied the Bible together so after the service you can talk to her and my son Karl about mom’s keen intellect.
I don’t remember the year, but a long time ago, my sister Cheryl began taking care of mom. She took her on trips to Medocino and the Rose Bowl Parade. Nancy watched over her at home and Kathy and Monty came over almost every weekend. Karl and I visited and eventually Christine, Richard and Chaleen moved in next door to watch over mom as well. She was surrounded by her family until the moment she died at home.
I am sure I have missed a lot of details. Mom’s life was rich. She suffered with grace and inspired us all with her unselfishness.
Mom and I had an intellectual connection. I am a writer and she loved that about me. It reminded her of her mother. My first poem was written in gratitude for mom’s greatest gift to me. Over and over she kept forgiving me.
Gratitude—
To My Beloved Mother
You gave me life, and nurtured my soul.
You prayed for me, till I was whole.
You cried for me, when I was in pain.
Your tears soothed my sorrow, like life-giving rain.
I treated you badly—my anger unfurled.
You always forgave me, despite all I hurled.
Now I've found peace; my spirit is free.
From the depth of my soul, I want to thank thee.
For I know what a burden I had to have been.
Yet somehow you loved me despite all my sins.
I will end with a poem I wrote for my mother in 1982. I wrote this poem to honor the truly wonderful woman that she was, and she was very happy when it eventually got published.