I Don't Know How She Does It!

By Rosetta Taylor

Part 1: Rosetta Taylor started writing stories and poems as she was raising 11 children. She wrote about the struggles and triumphs of living in a big family. She wrote about her friends and family. She wrote about John Taylor, the love the of her life and advice to her children on how to raise their own.

Part 2: Rosetta & John's children and their children contributed with more to share. The perspectives come from different generations and ages. The stories vary in length and message.

Part 3: A series of collages showcasing the family. Some of the pictures relate to a story in the book. Others will spark different memories.

Everyone in the family is in this book in one way or another. Whether it was adding a story, being mentioned in one, or adding a picture, everyone was involved.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Nov 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312714892

Book preview

I Don't Know How She Does It!

I Don’t Know

How She

Does It!

Taylor Made Tales

Rosetta Taylor & Family

I Don’t Know

How She

Does It!

Taylor Made Tales

Rosetta Taylor

&

Family

Self-Published

2014

Copyright © 2014 by Rosetta Taylor and Family

All rights reserved. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission from the author.

ISBN: 978-1-312-71458-8 (printed edition)

ISBN: 978-1-312-71489-2 (ebook edition)

First Printing: 2014

I dedicate this book of memories, errors and all, to the beautiful people I love; my husband John, my children and their families, my mom, my family, John’s family and my friends. God bless you all for being you.

Love,

Rosetta

Acknowledgements

A Special Thank you to my daughter Rosetta for reducing and copying most of this book, to my son David for covering each copy, to my sister Ann, who reprinted and color enhanced my book, I could only say God Bless her. – Rosetta Taylor (regarding first book)

I would like to acknowledge my gratitude and love to my awesome granddaughter, Amy. Through many hours of work and editing she assembled this book, with love, for all of us to enjoy. – Rosetta Taylor

Thank you Grandma, for writing your book and sharing it with us. Thank you for allowing us to add to it and print this edition. My dad, Tom, was able to take time to edit the book, draw the front cover and help format it. Everyone contributed in some way or another and I’d like to thank everyone for being patient with me during this process. Thank you for encouraging each other to add to the book. – Amy Taylor

Forward

This book is about our family, the Taylor family, and our stories of struggles and triumphs. My grandma wrote the first half across several years, not all of us grandchildren (and great grandchildren) had been born. She wrote her story down as the memories and advice she wanted to share with her kids and family.

We decided to add more, from different perspectives and generations. We are the Taylor family. When your family runs into the double (or triple) digits there are bound to be differences. Some of us are Cubs fans and others root for the Sox. We have a cappella singers and rappers, athletes and academics, teachers and business owners. Despite all of our differences we are family and family is the one thing everyone can agree on.

Enjoy this collection of stories, poems, memories, essays, and photos. Let it be a reminder so we do not forget. Let it be a starting point for sharing more memories.

–        Amy Taylor

Part I.

Rosetta’s Story

I Don’t Know How She Does It

People always say, I don’t know how she does it when they think of me and me having had eleven children. I’ll tell you how. It wasn’t easy, and it only worked out well because I married a saint. Oh he too, has his faults, as all saints do or did, but he still has to be a saint. That is my first reason why it worked.

The second reason and not Description: Macintosh HD:Users:amytaylor:Desktop:PRINTERS_15th%20CBA%20Faculty%20iR-6055%2010_128_15_250_0624_001 copy.jpg second by importance, is that I take all my problems to Our Lady of Perpetual Help. She has always interceded for me and always helped me, even if the answer was not one I wanted. It helped me to accept it, to accept the Lord’s will and not my own.

Jim’s passing has added another help for me, because whenever troubled over his siblings or their families I always say a prayer to Jim, and ask him to say a prayer for whom ever it is I want something special for that I can’t do myself. Never lose faith in the Lord. He is there to help you with the most serious requests, and the most ridiculous request, if you want proof, then I am living proof. I did whatever I did to raise my family and stay happily married, with the grace of God. I had a lot of help from family, friends, etc., and these helps were because of the grace of God for me to share. Whenever we needed a helping hand there was always one reaching out to help us. Thanks be to God.

Once upon a time, in the year 1949, your dad and I started out as husband and wife. We vowed to love each other for the rest of our lives, to accept children lovingly from God. We vowed to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. Those are powerful promises that only with the help of God and the love for each other can they be lived.

We started out with a very meager amount of money. We had saved before the wedding so as to have a beautiful church ceremony, at St. Michael’s and a modest reception in a hall with live music. I was all of 19 years old, and your dad almost 21, not quite, because your Grandpa Taylor had to go downtown with us to sign for our marriage license. We had met at a wedding, and later again at a party for the return of some of my relatives from the army. My cousin Paul introduced dad to me and we went on a date on February 26, 1946, a date that we still keep and celebrate together, even now 43 ½ years later.

We honeymooned in a little cottage in Coloma Michigan, our means of transportation there was by Greyhound bus. When we returned from our honeymoon your Grandma Taylor was on her deathbed, and a few days later died. Dad naturally suffered because of his loss, and I suffered because I hadn’t had the privilege of being her daughter-in-law. A living saint, the only way I or anyone else could describe her.

We lived in a four room flat that I had lived in all of my life on Mohawk Street; Grandma and Grandpa Skittone moved to the flat across the hall from us. We shared the bathroom with them, at that time it had a tub in it, no sink or hot water. This was a step up for me because we only had the toilet and no tub most of my childhood life. I can’t count how many steps down it was for your dad coming from the home in which we live now, on Berteau Avenue. Dad being the only son, and a change of life, was never shown how to do anything handy in the home. His dad did everything and his mom and sisters taught him to help them do chores in the home.

Your dad and I wanted our little place to be different than it had ever been when I lived there. So with some help from Grandpa Skittone we changed it. We knocked out the pantry wall and turned the bedroom and the pantry into a kitchenette (10 feet long, 6 feet wide). It was fantastic. I even had a metal wall cabinet over the four-legged sink. I put a nice skirt on it. The original kitchen was our dining room. The living room was the living room but dad put a French door instead of the one it had before. Our bedroom was the same one that I had growing up, but it was beautiful with our new bedroom set. The bedroom measured 15 feet long and only 6 feet wide, we papered it because it had never been papered before. We were so happy working together to try and make it look good. I helped daddy do everything. We used to sing anything you can do I could do better, anything you could do I could do too, no you can’t, yes I can, no you can’t, etc. Your dad didn’t know a wrench from a hammer, but he learned by himself, by watching and reading books on how. So it shouldn’t amaze you when you see your dad redoing the complete roof on our home at age 61.

Just before we were married dad had spackled, what was going to be our dining room walls. At that time grandpa was having the house lifted, with new supports and a new foundation put in the building and said that he wanted it done in a few days instead of a few months as the contractor suggested. They had already moved into the apartment next door. We were so proud of the spackling, than two days before our wedding, the spackled walls started to crack and come falling down. We were a mess, plaster and dust all over everything; our gifts, some of our new furniture. I got dressed there among the mess for the wedding because everyone else was getting dressed next door, and grandpa had ordered new blinds for the front room windows and they were to be put up before the wedding, but they never came in time and so we had no shades on the windows. The night before the wedding, dad and I were helping grandpa lay linoleum in his place.

The wedding went very well, except that I was late for church because grandpa had disappeared; he had been decorating his car and got some dirt on his white tuxedo jacket, and went to the cleaners to have it cleaned. In a way it was good because your Aunt Irene had forgotten her slip to wear under her gown (she was a bridesmaid) so we called Aunt Josephine, who lived in the house that our Chris lives in now, and asked her to pick up Irene’s slip that she hastily put on in a confessional, at church. Cousin Judy and Freddy, our flower girl and pillow boy, about 4 and 5 years old, talked and giggled through the whole mass; they were on the alter with us. Grandma Taylor was going to come to the church but was too ill to leave her bed. Grandpa Taylor came to the church. He also came to the breakfast brunch that we had at the Jolly Club, but he couldn’t leave grandma alone to come to the reception.

Our little dream apartment was improved little by little. We had candle light dinners on the ironing board for a while until we put our dining room walls up again, etc. We slept in my old twin size bed till we could put the bedroom together and our furniture was delivered.

Saturday’s dad and I spent all day cleaning our little four room apartment, as we both worked. Grandpa used to come in and say he couldn’t understand what we had to clean because we were never there to get it dirty. Our big thing then was to go to the show with grandpa and grandma every Saturday night, to the Century Theater.

We thought that there was something wrong with dad or I, or both, as we were trying from the beginning to have a baby and nothing happened. We went to Uncle the doctor to see if he could help us. He told us to take care of his house on Springfield, for a month, while he was on vacation. If I were not pregnant when he got back he would start taking tests. But he was pretty sure that if we were away from our apartment, away from my parents and used his magic bed that I would be pregnant. He was right.

In May of 51 John was born. He was born about two days after we buried Grandpa Taylor, who was very excited to know if we were going to have a boy to carry on the Taylor name. I am sure that he and Grandma Taylor are in heaven and must know of all the wonderful grandchildren and Taylors that dad and I had.

Raising a family of eleven children just doesn’t happen overnight, thank God! I am still awed at the fact that I really gave birth to eleven children. To have had eleven good beautiful, mischievous, cunning, noisy, temperamental, rambunctious, kind, generous and compassionate children is certainly an awesome gift. Each one of you has a special personality, your own faults and assets; that make you each a unique creation of God. It takes years filled with such magnitude of love and companionship sharing and caring that makes life so precious while on earth.

Each one of you with your different interests, goals and accomplishments are rewards of all our efforts to bring you up as good loving Christians. If you could keep in mind when you have children of your own, that each child is a unique individual you will have an easier time raising and loving your child. Never compare one with another, nor ever compare what they feel or accomplish as to what you yourself may or may not have accomplished as a child. Don’t expect them to live out your dreams unless they are also their dreams. A gift of a child is not a clone of you or your spouse, but the combination of you and your spouse never again to be duplicated.

The greatest that I was ever bestowed with, by the grace of God, was your dad. You girls will never find one like him and you boys will never be exactly like him. Dad’s attributes his keen sense of life to God and his fellow man. Without him life would be meaningless to me. With him to share every sacrifice, joy and disappointment, either has a meaning, or has strengthened our bond together. His ability to find humor in everything is overwhelming. He is the most humble caring person I know. Always treat your spouse with respect and teach your children to do so by your own action towards each other. Your home will always be filled with love if you reflect that love.

All of you have turned into such compassionate, loving, caring individuals; each unique. It is wonderful to have been through the weddings and more to come; so many happy times. Being involved with each wedding, loving the mates you have chosen, has indeed made us feel very blessed. I hope God will grant us the gift to witness every one of your weddings and your children, and possibly grandchildren. It is magnificent to see our grandchildren and what wonderful parents you all have become. It’s seeing how much love and understanding and time giving of you that is so great to witness. We are very proud of all of you. Always remember when raising your families, or going about whatever you will do in life, that you have that much more to be thankful for then other people do. You all have each other. It matters not whether you married or not, have children of not, you have each other and can always count on each other with love, support or whatever the need be. Just as you know that as long as dad and I are here, we are here for all of you and your children, as you will be for all of them. The stories to follow are of memories that will always enlighten my life and hopefully yours. I love you all very much.

Mom – 10/89

P.S. In reading this book, you will come across things like grammar mistakes. I will never finish this book if I have to have it perfect – as it is not – so am I.

Challenging Beginnings

When a child I had no great ambitions, I thought I’d be a secretary like my oldest sister. I grew up during the Depression years. I remember my mother worked; sewing in a dress factory, a furrier company and during the war when she was a real riveter, and all types of things in a defense plant. Grandma had many jobs as a child, and in her adult life; she had real gumption. She would say that she had experience in any type of office work and really would learn it as she was doing it. She and Grandpa Skittone owned a children’s store, and lived on Devon Avenue in a fancy house, before the Depression but lost it all. Great Grandpa Loverde let them live in one of his flats on Mohawk Street. It had a lot of back taxes to be paid on it, and in years later they paid the taxes and whatever it took to own the house, such as it was. Aunt Jeannette was the one who had the better life I would say, as a child, as far as material things, until she was eight years old. I was born and the Depression started. That is when they moved to Mohawk Street.

My father worked many jobs also. He came to America as a child; his mother had been a teacher in Italy. She was raised by nuns. As grandpa may have seemed to be an uneducated foreigner, he really was not. His mother taught him much; he was very good in math. However his English was terrible, he never lost hit Italian accent, or characteristics of his heritage, customs (or the strictness in bringing up his daughters).

Aunt Jeannette eloped when she was 18 years old, during the war years, which left me with a lot of responsibility. Until then I lived a carefree life, with some chores and homework to worry about. We used to put on plays in our yard, mostly musicals. We would invite the adults of the neighborhood but the boys in the neighborhood could not come because boys were not allowed in our life. Not even to talk to; but they would show up. They would sit on the next-door neighbor’s fence and throw tomatoes at us and the adults would chase them away.

I was already taking care of Aunt Marie, who is two years younger than me, and Aunt Anna, who is four years younger. I would see to it that they got to school, dressed warm enough, that Aunt Anna’s high top shoes were properly tied (she had special shoes because she had fallen-arches and flat feet). She also had beautiful naturally curly hair; I had to check her curls and braids that grandma would do the night before; to make sure she looked good. I always had a time with Aunt Marie, because she was the delicate one, physically, she had rheumatic fever as a small child so she was treated special. She was a tomboy, the neighbors called her Tim-buck-too. She wouldn’t wear her hat, she would pick fights with kids and tell them her sister Rosetta would beat them up if they picked on her. Once she picked on two girls, they were insulting each other and the girl’s big brother smacked Aunt Marie; so she arranged a fight between the two of us. I was over matched but I did seem to win. I was very firm with my two sisters, and I think that most of our childhood they must have hated me. If anything would have happened to them there is no saying what would have happened to me. So I started very young avoiding dangerous situations if I could.

I would drop them off at the Olivet Kindergarten and at the Manieer Public School, which we all attended. I had to be home right after school with them so that I could clean the house (the small, cluttered four-room flat) and have dinner ready by the time Grandpa got home at 4:30 so that he could leave again for work at 5:00. Grandma never got home till about 4:45 so I had to cook. We had no vacuum cleaner so I would sweep the rug and sprinkle water on it so as not to raise too much dust, because then I had to dust. I didn’t know how to cook so the grocery lady would tell me what to cook and how to cook it. She knew how much I could spend, which was put on a tab and grandpa would pay it later in the week. It was never anything very much, always cheap, because we were on relief and didn’t have much to spend.

All these negative things I write are to let you children know that everything has a purpose. I learned so much as a child, on bringing up children, cleaning house, watching my mom make us things out of old material. They were a very proud couple and in spite of not having money they would not take hand-me-down clothes (that I know of). Of course most of the