Carefully sorting through the precious photos from Mom and Dad’s past, I’ve come across a stack of tiny prints from 1953.

Dad confirms that they were photos Mom sent to him while he was serving in the Army overseas.

They are nothing short of charming, as Mom added a tiny note to each. Dad brought them home from Korea and saved them all these years.

The newlyweds must have missed each other desperately. There was no Internet or mobile-phone service back then, of course.

Just the mail service.

In the photo above, Mom is sitting with a book in the backyard at 33 Chatham Street. Mom’s note to Dad: It’s really Ray’s geometry book. (Ray is her younger brother.)

Dad was so far away for two years. First Japan and then Korea.

Mom and Dad married on November 4, 1952 while he was on leave.

Here’s another photo Mom mailed overseas.

Mom’s childhood home backed up to her maternal grandparents’ yard. Pop and Gram Regan were both born in Ireland and moved to America for a better life.

Mom’s uncle Pip still lived with his parents at that point. He loved dogs. King was still mentioned in reverential terms when I was a child. Captain, on the other hand, was Bunny’s pup and quite a rascal. “He nearly got us all killed!” remembers Dad, all these years later. Apparently Captain got away from his leash on a busy road. Mom’s note to Dad on this photo: I had to work to keep him still. I’d assumed she meant King, but Dad’s just sure it was Captain.

A number of the photos include household items, as Mom prepared for her husband’s return so they could get their own place and start their married life.

Mom’s note: Domestic setting: our lamp, of course. And my new dress.

There are also photos without Mom in them, showing simply a car, a record player, and … her typewriter.

Before we talk about Mom’s typewriter, let me ask: is that another dog in the background? Up in the top-left corner. And the top-right corner shows the doors to the cellar. You could access it from inside the house as well, but something about the outside cellar doors fascinated me.

Also, those steps. This photo was taken in the back yard, which was divided in half by a sidewalk, include steps. I loved that sidewalk and the entire yard, as Grandpa was quite a gardener. Seemed almost European, but I can’t imagine knowing that as a child. Maybe it was just easier to jump rope and play hopscotch on a sidewalk.

That typewriter. Well, it was a member of the family, really. Mom’s parents gave it to her as a high-school graduation present so she’d be ready for college. She was an English major at St. Joseph College in Hartford.

Mom is a poet.

Her writing is ethereal:

Mom published a book of poetry back in 1984. She has hundreds of poems and we’ll post them here, one by one.

Her Royal typewriter was with her as she moved her young family from town to town, state to state, while Dad worked his way up the corporate ladder at General Electric. She wrote her ideas down and took the final version to the Royal.

One of the first concerns Mom and Dad had with each move (after finding church and schools) was to locate the closest typewriter-repair shop. This was pre-Amazon, and finding a fresh ribbon wasn’t always easy. (Oh, the smudged fingers we endured changing those ribbons!)

It took until just a dozen or so years ago for Mom to get an electric typewriter. And a few years ago, she gifted the Royal to me. It’s here with me in our study.

Thanks to Mom for passing along her love of the written word. It is a gift I’ll treasure forever.

“when in the rain a snow” © 1984 Joan Vayo. All rights reserved.

Would you like to receive an email notice when there’s a new Too Much Brudders post? Sign up here: