Brick by Brick
by Becky Van Vleet
I grew up in a family of four girls. It didn’t matter that there were no sons to summon for projects around the house. Daddy enlisted all of us!
Our family moved to a new home in 1963 on the east side of Indianapolis, and getting some grass to grow was first on the agenda that summer. Later on, my mother decided she’d like a brick flower bed around three sides of the house for the soon-to-be-purchased shrubs and flowers. So my dad bought the bricks, mixed up the cement, got his level and trowel out, and I was hired on the spot as his assistant at ten years old.
Truthfully, my younger sister was only in kindergarten, and my older sisters were teenagers and much busier than me with babysitting jobs and other things. Even so, I felt sort of special to take on this project with my dad, brick by brick.
For a ten-year-old skinny girl like me, yeah, the bricks were a bit heavy. I could only manage a couple at a time from the wheelbarrow that was not too far away. But I’d bring them around to my dad, wearing my pedal pushers (who remembers these?) so he could keep the job going, which took a few days.
We’d stop, for breaks, and my mother would come outside to check on us ever so often with cold water. She’d smile and compliment us, saying she couldn’t wait for the flower beds to be complete with fresh soil and new plants.
When all was said and done, the bricked flower beds really looked great, and I was pleased with my contribution to the project. Especially spending time with my dad. He thanked me at each stage of the yard project, making the experience even more fulfilling.
Over time, I came to value the strong work ethic my parents instilled in my sisters and me. They lead by example. Hard work never hurt anybody, they said. And they certainly knew about hard work, being a part of the Greatest Generation that endured the Great Depression and WWII.
In March of 2024, my husband and I visited Indianapolis and drove by my childhood home. The current owner greeted us outside and expressed how much he and his family enjoyed living in the house, which was over 60 years old by then. I glanced around the yard. Lots of upgrades and new landscaping. Our flower beds on two sides were no longer there. But on one side, a partial bricked flower bed remained. Must have been some pretty good cement! Or maybe it was the meticulous labor of a father and daughter working side by side.
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