Enid’s husband had died in 1910. In the traditional, old-fashioned way, Harold ran the farm and Enid ran the household that included a son. The farm was the sole source of income of course, but it was a partnership. One spouse couldn’t do without the other.
When Enid’s husband died fortunately her son, Jack, was old enough to run the farm on his own and do all the heavy work. It was a partnership as before, although Enid was inclined to help more on the farm than she had previously.
And then Jack was called to war.
Enid ran the farm as best she could, but it wasn’t good enough. She sold the farm for a song. The farm wouldn’t take care of itself while she waited for a millionaire to come along and buy. She went and lived in town, but had no experience of the work force. Her skills lay in other areas. She couldn’t find a job.
And Jack didn’t come back.
It’s not only soldiers who make sacrifices in times of war.
My friend from school, Broderick Entwistle; his parents don’t argue like my parents do. My parents argue all the time, even when my friend, Broderick, comes to stay the night. They argue and argue like no one else is there. Sometimes I wish they’d go their separate ways and be done with it.
Broderick Entwistle’s parents never argue. When I stay over at their place they’re as nice as pie, and Mrs Entwistle is lovely. She has time to talk to me and ask me things because she’s not spending all her time arguing with her husband like my parents do.
I like going to the Entwistle’s place. It’s a relief not to have to listen to my parents going on and on. And the Entwistle’s place is so happy. Unlike mine.
So it was a bit of a surprise when Broderick told me this afternoon that his parents were getting a divorce.