─════════ ••●•• ❤ Biography ❤ ••●•• ════════─
Life Story by Audrey Hoffman
From the very first of my memories I knew I was loved. Mama and Daddy took time to play with me, and often reminded me of their love for each other, and their love for me. I don't remember playing by myself very much. Most of my recollections of playing were to interact and enjoy my mama and daddy. I loved getting in their bed. On cold mornings, I snuggle between them on their soft feather mattress, and would get real warm and comfy. I recall playing elevator. Daddy would put me on his feet and raise me way up high then bring me back down as I would giggle. I was, later, told of their memories of how they enjoyed showing me off, and sharing the little cute things that I did with their friends and family.
I learned, very early in life, the fun of taking trips. Maybe they would be just a jaunt in downtown Stockton, or a ride around the rural area, or maybe a picnic lunch in the mountains, or better still to go to grandma and grandpa's house in Tulare. I began to notice a statue of a milkmaid at the Adohr creamery on the old 99 highway. I knew that we were only few blocks from grandma's house. I would bounce on the seat, filled with anticipation and excitement. While we were venturing out, I listened to mama and daddy sharing memories and singing. I cherished their stories, and soon I knew the songs, and would sing along with them.
Every place we went, my parents would point out the spots to interest. I began to learn the geography of our area. Daddy had an extraordinary kind of love for California and especially the San Joaquin Valley. Over the years, he passed on that love and appreciation of this great state and valley to me.
Then a change came into my little life. One morning, daddy woke me up and told me that I had a tiny baby, a little sister, I was so excited, and I wanted to see her right now. He told me that he would take me to the hospital to see her, and soon as I was dressed and ate my breakfast. "Where was mama?" Daddy said she was at the hospital too, and she was going stay there until they could bring our baby home.
Daddy guided me, holding my hand, as we entered the hospital room. Our family doctor was with mama. Dr. Seymour greeted me, picked me up, and put me on the bed next to mama. She gave me a hug and a kiss as I snuggled down close to her while the doctor went to the nursery to go to get our baby.
Daddy put me in a big overstuffed chair, and I was soon holding a tiny baby, named Alice. She was my baby and I would be able to play with her, and help take care of her.
Mama was a frail lady, and prone to times when she didn't feel well. She began to teach me to cook when I was very young. The first time that I helped her cook, we made meatloaf. Mama sat at the kitchen table, and I carried the utensils and ingredients to her. She peeled an onion and chopped it very fine while I opened the package of hamburger and put it in a bowl. Then the onions and the spices were added to the meat. Mama had me to go to the sink, where I stood on a box, to wash my hands. I was to squeeze the mixture through my fingers until it was well mixed. That was a big job for my little five year old hands, but eventually it was thoroughly mixed. Mama molded the mixture into a mound and placed it in the pan. The pan was heavy, but I was able to put in the oven of our new electric stove.
Soon, daddy was home from work, and mama proudly told him that I had made a meatloaf for dinner. I was jubilant, and help set the table while daddy finished putting the dinner together. Mama and daddy let me know how important I was to the family, and after that I was helping in the kitchen often.
I realize now that these first five years of my life instilled in me the nature of the person that I have become.
─════════ ••●•• ❤ In Memory ❤ ••●•• ════════─
Life Story by Audrey Hoffman
From the very first of my memories I knew I was loved. Mama and Daddy took time to play with me, and often reminded me of their love for each other, and their love for me. I don't remember playing by myself very much. Most of my recollections of playing were to interact and enjoy my mama and daddy. I loved getting in their bed. On cold mornings, I snuggle between them on their soft feather mattress, and would get real warm and comfy. I recall playing elevator. Daddy would put me on his feet and raise me way up high then bring me back down as I would giggle. I was, later, told of their memories of how they enjoyed showing me off, and sharing the little cute things that I did with their friends and family.
I learned, very early in life, the fun of taking trips. Maybe they would be just a jaunt in downtown Stockton, or a ride around the rural area, or maybe a picnic lunch in the mountains, or better still to go to grandma and grandpa's house in Tulare. I began to notice a statue of a milkmaid at the Adohr creamery on the old 99 highway. I knew that we were only few blocks from grandma's house. I would bounce on the seat, filled with anticipation and excitement. While we were venturing out, I listened to mama and daddy sharing memories and singing. I cherished their stories, and soon I knew the songs, and would sing along with them.
Every place we went, my parents would point out the spots to interest. I began to learn the geography of our area. Daddy had an extraordinary kind of love for California and especially the San Joaquin Valley. Over the years, he passed on that love and appreciation of this great state and valley to me.
Then a change came into my little life. One morning, daddy woke me up and told me that I had a tiny baby, a little sister, I was so excited, and I wanted to see her right now. He told me that he would take me to the hospital to see her, and soon as I was dressed and ate my breakfast. "Where was mama?" Daddy said she was at the hospital too, and she was going stay there until they could bring our baby home.
Daddy guided me, holding my hand, as we entered the hospital room. Our family doctor was with mama. Dr. Seymour greeted me, picked me up, and put me on the bed next to mama. She gave me a hug and a kiss as I snuggled down close to her while the doctor went to the nursery to go to get our baby.
Daddy put me in a big overstuffed chair, and I was soon holding a tiny baby, named Alice. She was my baby and I would be able to play with her, and help take care of her.
Mama was a frail lady, and prone to times when she didn't feel well. She began to teach me to cook when I was very young. The first time that I helped her cook, we made meatloaf. Mama sat at the kitchen table, and I carried the utensils and ingredients to her. She peeled an onion and chopped it very fine while I opened the package of hamburger and put it in a bowl. Then the onions and the spices were added to the meat. Mama had me to go to the sink, where I stood on a box, to wash my hands. I was to squeeze the mixture through my fingers until it was well mixed. That was a big job for my little five year old hands, but eventually it was thoroughly mixed. Mama molded the mixture into a mound and placed it in the pan. The pan was heavy, but I was able to put in the oven of our new electric stove.
Soon, daddy was home from work, and mama proudly told him that I had made a meatloaf for dinner. I was jubilant, and help set the table while daddy finished putting the dinner together. Mama and daddy let me know how important I was to the family, and after that I was helping in the kitchen often.
I realize now that these first five years of my life instilled in me the nature of the person that I have become.
─════════ ••●•• ❤ In Memory ❤ ••●•• ════════─
─════════ ••●•• ❤ Biography ❤ ••●•• ════════─
Life Story by Audrey Hoffman
From the very first of my memories I knew I was loved. Mama and Daddy took time to play with me, and often reminded me of their love for each other, and their love for me. I don't remember playing by myself very much. Most of my recollections of playing were to interact and enjoy my mama and daddy. I loved getting in their bed. On cold mornings, I snuggle between them on their soft feather mattress, and would get real warm and comfy. I recall playing elevator. Daddy would put me on his feet and raise me way up high then bring me back down as I would giggle. I was, later, told of their memories of how they enjoyed showing me off, and sharing the little cute things that I did with their friends and family.
I learned, very early in life, the fun of taking trips. Maybe they would be just a jaunt in downtown Stockton, or a ride around the rural area, or maybe a picnic lunch in the mountains, or better still to go to grandma and grandpa's house in Tulare. I began to notice a statue of a milkmaid at the Adohr creamery on the old 99 highway. I knew that we were only few blocks from grandma's house. I would bounce on the seat, filled with anticipation and excitement. While we were venturing out, I listened to mama and daddy sharing memories and singing. I cherished their stories, and soon I knew the songs, and would sing along with them.
Every place we went, my parents would point out the spots to interest. I began to learn the geography of our area. Daddy had an extraordinary kind of love for California and especially the San Joaquin Valley. Over the years, he passed on that love and appreciation of this great state and valley to me.
Then a change came into my little life. One morning, daddy woke me up and told me that I had a tiny baby, a little sister, I was so excited, and I wanted to see her right now. He told me that he would take me to the hospital to see her, and soon as I was dressed and ate my breakfast. "Where was mama?" Daddy said she was at the hospital too, and she was going stay there until they could bring our baby home.
Daddy guided me, holding my hand, as we entered the hospital room. Our family doctor was with mama. Dr. Seymour greeted me, picked me up, and put me on the bed next to mama. She gave me a hug and a kiss as I snuggled down close to her while the doctor went to the nursery to go to get our baby.
Daddy put me in a big overstuffed chair, and I was soon holding a tiny baby, named Alice. She was my baby and I would be able to play with her, and help take care of her.
Mama was a frail lady, and prone to times when she didn't feel well. She began to teach me to cook when I was very young. The first time that I helped her cook, we made meatloaf. Mama sat at the kitchen table, and I carried the utensils and ingredients to her. She peeled an onion and chopped it very fine while I opened the package of hamburger and put it in a bowl. Then the onions and the spices were added to the meat. Mama had me to go to the sink, where I stood on a box, to wash my hands. I was to squeeze the mixture through my fingers until it was well mixed. That was a big job for my little five year old hands, but eventually it was thoroughly mixed. Mama molded the mixture into a mound and placed it in the pan. The pan was heavy, but I was able to put in the oven of our new electric stove.
Soon, daddy was home from work, and mama proudly told him that I had made a meatloaf for dinner. I was jubilant, and help set the table while daddy finished putting the dinner together. Mama and daddy let me know how important I was to the family, and after that I was helping in the kitchen often.
I realize now that these first five years of my life instilled in me the nature of the person that I have become.
─════════ ••●•• ❤ In Memory ❤ ••●•• ════════─
Life Story by Audrey Hoffman
From the very first of my memories I knew I was loved. Mama and Daddy took time to play with me, and often reminded me of their love for each other, and their love for me. I don't remember playing by myself very much. Most of my recollections of playing were to interact and enjoy my mama and daddy. I loved getting in their bed. On cold mornings, I snuggle between them on their soft feather mattress, and would get real warm and comfy. I recall playing elevator. Daddy would put me on his feet and raise me way up high then bring me back down as I would giggle. I was, later, told of their memories of how they enjoyed showing me off, and sharing the little cute things that I did with their friends and family.
I learned, very early in life, the fun of taking trips. Maybe they would be just a jaunt in downtown Stockton, or a ride around the rural area, or maybe a picnic lunch in the mountains, or better still to go to grandma and grandpa's house in Tulare. I began to notice a statue of a milkmaid at the Adohr creamery on the old 99 highway. I knew that we were only few blocks from grandma's house. I would bounce on the seat, filled with anticipation and excitement. While we were venturing out, I listened to mama and daddy sharing memories and singing. I cherished their stories, and soon I knew the songs, and would sing along with them.
Every place we went, my parents would point out the spots to interest. I began to learn the geography of our area. Daddy had an extraordinary kind of love for California and especially the San Joaquin Valley. Over the years, he passed on that love and appreciation of this great state and valley to me.
Then a change came into my little life. One morning, daddy woke me up and told me that I had a tiny baby, a little sister, I was so excited, and I wanted to see her right now. He told me that he would take me to the hospital to see her, and soon as I was dressed and ate my breakfast. "Where was mama?" Daddy said she was at the hospital too, and she was going stay there until they could bring our baby home.
Daddy guided me, holding my hand, as we entered the hospital room. Our family doctor was with mama. Dr. Seymour greeted me, picked me up, and put me on the bed next to mama. She gave me a hug and a kiss as I snuggled down close to her while the doctor went to the nursery to go to get our baby.
Daddy put me in a big overstuffed chair, and I was soon holding a tiny baby, named Alice. She was my baby and I would be able to play with her, and help take care of her.
Mama was a frail lady, and prone to times when she didn't feel well. She began to teach me to cook when I was very young. The first time that I helped her cook, we made meatloaf. Mama sat at the kitchen table, and I carried the utensils and ingredients to her. She peeled an onion and chopped it very fine while I opened the package of hamburger and put it in a bowl. Then the onions and the spices were added to the meat. Mama had me to go to the sink, where I stood on a box, to wash my hands. I was to squeeze the mixture through my fingers until it was well mixed. That was a big job for my little five year old hands, but eventually it was thoroughly mixed. Mama molded the mixture into a mound and placed it in the pan. The pan was heavy, but I was able to put in the oven of our new electric stove.
Soon, daddy was home from work, and mama proudly told him that I had made a meatloaf for dinner. I was jubilant, and help set the table while daddy finished putting the dinner together. Mama and daddy let me know how important I was to the family, and after that I was helping in the kitchen often.
I realize now that these first five years of my life instilled in me the nature of the person that I have become.
─════════ ••●•• ❤ In Memory ❤ ••●•• ════════─
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