As far as I knew, Grandma had always been a farmer’s wife. She kept the house, worked the garden, and had dinner on the table when Grampa came in from the field. The fried chicken was finger-lickin’ good, in part because I’d plucked the feathers from the hen she’d caught that morning.
When Grandma was in her 90s, I learned that she had worked in a bank.
“Really?” I’d seen her neat handwriting in the ledgers on her desk, but I’d never considered the possibility.
“Yes,” she said, “one day I had the bank all to myself. I was the only employee there.”
Now I was curious. “Why did you quit the bank?”
Grandma smiled. “Because I married your grampa.”
In those days, only single ladies worked outside the home. When a school teacher, secretary, or cook got married, everyone knew she had accepted a fulltime job elsewhere and had to leave.
Most people would say life has changed a lot since then, but I think one thing remains the same. Moms will never get enough credit for all the work they do.