My dear Uncle Bill is gone. It wasn’t a surprise. Bill was 93 and had been in extended care for 18 months or so. But it still hurts like hell. Bill was an old-fashioned family man. As a young fellow, he permitted his mother and future mother-in-law (my Grandma Cassidy) to fix him up with a stunning redhead. “Oh, boy. Those legs,” he remembered decades later, from his bed in The Guilford House. His walk was no longer steady, but…
Farmer Gary sets an annual goal for himself: Complete the harvest before Thanksgiving. Yesterday, he finished combining ’beans and today he’s planting the last of the winter crops. And all without a scarecrow. I can’t help but wonder if “city folk” would even know about scarecrows were it not for The Wizard of Oz. (As an aside, it still makes me laugh to remember Harry’s high school story about sitting in a quiet classroom, taking a final exam. The silence…
As Halloween fast approaches, it is time to tell my cousin Suzanne’s story about Grandma and the Bats. The year was 1985. The place was our maternal Grandma‘s house in New Haven. Our mothers’ cute childhood home at 33 Chatham Street was a wedding gift from Grandma’s parents in 1929. Grandpa had passed away three years earlier and Grandma was delighted when Suzie accepted her invitation to be roomies. Suzanne was recently out of college and had several part-time jobs…
Have you ever felt a sense of grace while going through a really hard time? Have you found something to smile or chuckle about through your tears of grief? Mom called this “a sense of holy laughter” in a recorded interview, below. She was referencing how she and her siblings managed to laugh as they stepped cautiously through the final weeks of their father’s life in the spring of 1982. A sense of holy laughter. Grandpa loved a good laugh….
As a young girl, Mom had a pen pal, her Aunt Margaret Regan. Known to non-family members as Sister Amabilis, she was only 16 when she entered religious life. It was September 1943 and Mom was 13 when she wrote this to her aunt, who wasn’t permitted to visit her family very often. It was September 1943; her older second-cousin Eddie was on furlough from the Army during World War II. Eddie wrote on the back of the photo, “Quit…
“Jelly” is an occasional topic of conversation in our household. It seems Gary was traumatized as a child by all the plum jelly he was forced to consume. Growing up on a farm, with parents who remembered The Great Depression like it was yesterday, Gary knew better than to complain. So he dutifully ate plum jelly on a slice of bread (he calls it “jelly bread,” which I’ve always found confusing) when it was served to him as a kid….
“Boy am I glad to have this cell phone!” Well, I nearly cried. I’d talked Dad into buying a mobile phone well over a decade ago. It took until the other day – and the aftermath of Hurricane Isaias – to hear him praise the handiness of this new-fangled option to his trusty land-line phone. Gary and I sometimes ponder this question: What gadgets will our sons want us to use in the future? My husband is incredibly technology-adverse (although…
When you’re a child of the Depression, you have a different outlook on personal finance. Mom used to tell the story of Dad, as a young child, going door to door trying to sell his toys. He wanted to help feed his family. When I asked him about it recently, Dad recalled that he sold his alphabet blocks for five cents a piece. He raised about 25 cents, and presented the pennies and nickels to his parents. As he hit…
While researching my ancestors, I came across an obituary that included this line: He was a survivor of the 1944 Hartford Circus Fire. I’d never heard of this tragedy before. It’s a horrific yet fascinating tale. On July 6, 1944, during a matinee performance of the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus in Hartford, Connecticut, a carelessly tossed cigarette ignited one of the nation’s worst fires. Of the approximately 7,000 fans who crowded into the huge big top on…
This story isn’t about my brother Billy, but the gentleman he was named after, our mom’s uncle Bill Regan. Since Mom’s passing last November, Bill Regan’s daughter Patty and I have been in touch via email, as we piece together stories about Grandma Cassidy‘s side of the family. Little Billy, the second youngest of Joe and Maggie Regan’s 11 children, was born in New Haven, Connecticut, in 1908. He lived to be 96 years old. Patty sent me the following…