Another letter from Mom to her aunt Sister Amabilis … Mom was 15 years old at the time. Sister Amabilis (aka Aunt Marguerite) was teaching first graders in the Hartford, Connecticut, area. Here’s the news (plus a poem) Mom sent on that July day in 1945: Dear Marguerite, We had a wonderful party on the Fourth of July. Joe was the real instigator and Grandma would do anything for him. There were hot dogs and cake, soda and watermelon. There…
Yesterday’s story included a poem from a letter Mom wrote in 1944. We’re back today with the rest of the letter. Her pen pal? Mom’s aunt Marguerite (baptised Margaret Josephine, after her parents, in 1895). To non-family members, she was Sister Amabilis. This tiny eight-page time capsule includes updates on Mom’s family, who lived on Chatham Street in New Haven, Connecticut. Dear Marguerite, Thanks so much for your letters and congratulations. I can never thank you enough for praying and…
This morning, while reading a book, I was reminded of buttercups. The young female protagonist was gifted a pin in the shape of a buttercup. As my cup of coffee kicked in, I started thinking back to my childhood. There was something about buttercups … It took a few minutes to piece it all together, but memories of Mom picking a tiny yellow flower and holding it under my chin gradually broke through the fog. “Let’s see … there it…
Got a bit of a head-scratcher here … Let’s start with my brother Dave. He emailed us recently with a story from a letter our Grandma Cassidy sent him back in 1976. The details are fascinating, but I’m not sure the dates match up all that well. That said, maybe a relative will see this and help us untangle the specifics. Because, as I may have mentioned, it’s a great story. Dave relays some information from Grandma’s letter: Grandma’s older…
Middle brother Dave recently came upon a poem our Grandma Cassidy mailed to him in 1975. Titled “To Joan,” she’d written this verse to our mother. Since this is World Poetry Day and Grandma’s birthday, we must share: Not that I would ever critique someone’s handwriting (sorry, Grandma), but in case you need a bit of help … “To Joan” Our Poet Your words of JoyThat your message bringsGives my heart a lift as it softly sings. Sadness and Strife…
Had I studied four of the dozen books of the Aeneid – in Latin, no less! – I do believe I’d have spent the rest of my life complaining about it. Not Mom, though … a high-school senior, she wrote Virgil a fan letter. It was in the style of his epic poem, of course: On Completing Book Four of the Aeneid Farewell, proud poet of a thousand years,Thou instigator of our common tears –Thou prompter of the midnight oils…
As promised in this earlier story about Grandpa Cassidy’s sister Ethel, here is the story of Anna. Not their mother, Anna Reilly Cassidy, but a generation later. Anna, a helper and friend who would become a treasured family member. Ethel’s younger daughter, Jean Hungerford Sutherland, wrote down a series of memories a few years before her own passing in 2016. And here is the story of her third parent: She was always there, a member of the family before either…
Philip Cassidy didn’t start out as a member of the Royal Dublin Fusiliers. When he volunteered to serve in The Great War, he was a member of the 16th Division Army Cyclist Corps. Surely Philip wore this badge on his uniform cap with pride: Philip Markey Cassidy was born in Dublin, Ireland, on October 12, 1895. He was the fourth of seven children born to Daniel and Mary Jane. “Markey” was Mary Jane’s maiden name. Philip’s father, Daniel, was the…
My aunt Bunny told me this story several times. Grandma had suitors before she got serious with Grandpa, but she liked to mention one fellow in particular when she looked back on her days as a young colleen. I wasn’t sure whether to tell this story, but then realized Mom mentioned him in this poem: and yet before the great depressionbefore his father diedbefore they left the house that he was born in my father had his picture taken in…
There was never any question about Joseph Malachy Regan: He was the family patriarch. One glance at this photo says it all: The newly married couple is Cecelia Margaret Regan Cassidy and Francis Raymond Cassidy, my maternal grandparents. The setting is New Haven, Connecticut, on June 24, 1929. And who is that white-haired gentleman sitting between the newlyweds? That’s Grandma’s beloved father, Joe Regan, called “Pop” by his descendants. I guess the seating plan makes sense, as Grandma’s attendants (Grandpa’s…