As Valentine’s Day approached last year, Dad decided to bring back a tradition he and Mom started long ago: Mail giant chocolate hearts from Hawaii to loved ones back home. Their annual trips to The Big Island began when youngest son Bill was stationed there. My brother, the Marine: Mom and Dad liked their winter visits to Hawaii (with its depression-lifting sunshine) so much, they made it a habit. Even after Bill had long since returned to civilian life in…
Have you noticed the proliferation of news stories lately that people are going a little crazy during this pandemic? Crazy is the word for newlyweds John and Aubrie. But in a good way. Good crazy. They’re having fun creating fan art for, of all things, Ordinary Sausage on YouTube. This Ordinary Sausage guy is a bit of a nut, too. His shtick is to make – and eat – sausage out of not-so-sausage-y foods. The ingredients are simply not what…
My grandfather was a policeman in New Haven, Connecticut. And his father was a policeman, too. My mother never met her grandfather Patrick Cassidy. He died in 1917. He was only 54 years old. My grandpa was just 17 years old at the time; he dropped out of school to help support the family. He had six siblings. Little Ginny was only two years old and Walter was eight. Here’s a photo of Grandpa with his mother, Anna, and youngest…
With all the stress provided by the news media – a pandemic, wobbly economy, and the violent insurrection at the U.S. Capitol to name just a few – January seemed like a good month to delve into four works of fiction. Week 1: And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini This is Hosseini’s third novel. Somehow, I think that at least part of his haunting stories are based on his experience as a child in Afghanistan. Desperately poor people take…
Grandma Cassidy had five granddaughters. I’m the oldest, then there’s Bunny’s two girls: Suzanne and Beth, and Ray’s two daughters: Marie and Claire. And so it feels like Grandma has been at work behind the scenes and in cahoots with the angels to remind one granddaughter that she had a copy of this wonderful memoir written by another granddaughter many years ago. Suzanne emailed it to me the other day. With Marie’s permission, here is that essay, which she wrote…
Growing up, our family had a Christmas tradition of going around the dinner table and each naming our favorite gift. Not the gift of family, faith, talent, or brains. This was about what had awaited us under the tree that morning. A toy, a doll, a game. Looking back over the decades, I’d have to say my favorite unwrap-it gift involved multi-generational family members, plus talent. It was this painting: In short, this is a painting that Grandpa Vayo (Dad’s…
It’s National Hat Day, had you heard? Feels like a good excuse to pull together photos of family members and their fancy chapeaux from over the past 100 years. This first picture is of my great-grandfather Patrick Cassidy. He was a police officer, first in Belfast and then in New Haven, Connecticut. This photo is from around 1915. Here’s one of Patrick’s sons, Christy, looking snazzy: Another of Patrick’s four sons, Frank, was also a policeman. And my grandpa. Hopping…
I can just hear my Grandma Cassidy bursting forth with that staccato laugh of hers, and then chiding me for using the word “gospel” in the title of this post. But Grandma, it’s okay. I didn’t capitalize “gospel,” so I don’t need to go to confession over this. We’re good. My younger brother was crazy about Grandma, too. Six years younger than me, Bill had a few extra years living close to her once Mom and Dad moved back to…
“The Spirit of ’76.” That was the name of my high school graduation class. Yes, 1976 was a long time ago, but I remember it well. We all went a little nuts celebrating our nation’s bicentennial. By the end of 1976, the uber-patriotism fatigue was real. We were all more than a bit relieved when the calendar moved on to ’77. For two entire years, we gathered ’round “the tube” each night to catch that evening’s Bicentennial Minute. The pre-cursor…
How to get into the Christmas spirit following 10 months of a pandemic threatening nearly every tradition? With Christmas books. Week 1: The Christmas Tree by Julie Salamon It had never occurred to me that it’s someone’s job to secure the “perfect” tree for Rockefeller Center each year. This is the story of that man, and his redemption as he finds both the tree and patience to wait for it as he befriends a nun who lives at the convent…