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I do not understand this ‘thing’ my mother had about ‘dreams’!  Is this because I have never really had one of my own?  Was this ‘dream thing’ of my mother’s related to her Borderline split between what is/was real and what is/was not real?  Between the ‘darling’ version of her world and ‘scary one’ as reflected in her inability to tolerate the real world with its fully integrated good and bad’?

The following is why I am NOW bending toward this as a title for the book(s) of my mother’s writings:

Mildred’s Mountain –

A City Woman’s Chronicle of Living Her Alaskan Homesteading Dream

OR should I put it this more accurate way:

Mildred’s Mountain –

A City Woman’s Chronicle of Living In Her Alaskan Homesteading Dream

I will have to think about this.  Adding that little tiny word “in” into the title really IS a reflection of my ‘analysis and interpretation’ of my mother, of her life and of her homesteading venture.  My use of the word ‘chronicle’ in the title (as mentioned in last night’s post) is supposed to MEAN that I am doing neither of these two actions in relation to her work – either analyzing or interpreting it!

And yet I do suspect that the way my mother’s brain-mind worked did mean that she was unable to tell the difference!  Was she ‘living her dream’ or was she ‘living IN her dream’?

I do suspect the latter.

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November 24, 1959 Tuesday

*Notes:  Why do we struggle so hard for our homestead on the Mountain –  Here I’ve had the children out of school for going on three weeks – still no credit for living on our land – Obstacles so great – can we, will we overcome these new obstacles?

Yes, yes, yes – we must but why?  What is it I hold onto so dearly – certainly not – our humble hut on the Mountain.  It’s not this that I cling to so desperately.

No, no, no – it’s my dreams – still so dear, so dear, so bright and untarnished.

I remember when we first filed on our homestead – ah, how great our dreams were then – and still are –

A neighbor of ours was over two years ago when we were living at the log house and mentioned our homestead claim.  I felt like a new parent with a brand new baby – beaming and proud – bring forth slides of our lovely one.  But all the neighbor sees is LAND.  “Aha,” she exclaims, “You’re eager to get hold of this land for speculation.”

“No, no I cry!” – but how can I explain our tender, sweet dreams to someone like this?  I try but to no avail.

She puts me down as ‘land hungry.’  How hurt and angry I was – she said, “You’ll never be satisfied with 160 acres.  You’ll want more and more.”

Oh how cruel – and oh, how untrue.

But yet – well, how simple if that were the case.  For then I would not struggle for that land.  We would never have climbed through mud, mosquitoes and carried burdens on our back.  Not for land alone – land for speculation.  Time and money is too dear.  Our family and their comfort are too great.  Would we now do what we’re doing just for land?

No, no, no.

We would have relinquished our claim soon after filing.  But we can’t relinquish our dreams.  It’s our dreams that brought us here to Alaska –made us sell our home and leave our family and friends.  It’s our reason for being here and our very reason for homesteading in the first place.

When – if ever – I see that our dreams cannot and will not materialize, then and only then will I give up.

This summer there was a time when our dreams were faint.  We were never together and always worried and tired – “But it is temporary.”  I said.  “We must always remember our dreams and make them come true.”

Our family must always be first – and our dreams for our family – they all center around our homestead and the life we have planned there.

I never want to sell that land or any part of it.  It would be like selling a member of our family.

Yet, Sunday when I saw that glacial ice on our road – standing thick, slippery and full of ridges – so bad even the tractor couldn’t pass over it and we slipped and could have broken our necks.

Can it be true?

Will we ever be able to live there? – all year round or will it always be a continual battle —  wearing Bill out?  And making him old before his time.

The road has always been our trouble from the beginning and yet our land so peaceful and beautiful is always there beckoning us on and on and on –

to our dreams!!

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