There is something so peaceful about watching the snow fall gently on a Christmas evening. But since today’s high temperature was 67, there’s no chance of yuletide snow-peeping this year. Instead, Gary, James, and I sat on the back deck and gathered around the fire pit, transfixed by the flames. We roasted hot dogs. We dined on fancier food earlier, and by nightfall a hot dog with relish and mustard just hit the spot. We even FaceTimed to Connecticut for…
Back in the 1960s, Mom started a tradition in the family. It was during Advent, those long weeks of preparation for Christmas. She set out the family creche as part of our Christmas decorations. The stable, the shepherds, the three wise men, Mary and Joseph. The tiny manger was there, too, but no Baby Jesus. Baby Jesus was hidden away until Christmas morn. Meanwhile, during those pre-holiday weeks when we children would get “itchy” (one of Mom’s great words describing…
“Well, I tried. But I struck out.” Poor Gary. He’d just made a trip to the local Christmas store in search of a very specific ornament, but came home empty-handed. We’d already found a squirrel ornament for Dad. And a bear for cousin Beth. But the ornament for Beth’s dad, Uncle Bill, wasn’t as easy. Bill loves, loves, loves baseball. And the New York Yankees. Especially his Yankees. When you live in New York or New England, you’ve got choices…
For 27 years, I worked at an attraction in Santa Claus, Indiana, where Christmas music played from May through October. It was fun to watch unsuspecting visitors suddenly realize “Let It Snow!” was playing on the speakers in the middle of July, with outdoor temperatures approaching triple digits. Most smiled, a few rolled their eyes, several brave souls sang along. My first experience Christmas caroling was when I was three years old. Mom, who loved Christmas, announced to my brothers…
Setting #1: Ferdinand, Indiana The phone call came late Sunday night. It was the call I’d dreaded, but knew I had to answer. “Mom died peacefully about a half hour ago, with Dad holding her hand.” Bill, my baby brother, the Marine, the caregiver, was gentle but straightforward as always. We spent the next few days making travel plans for her funeral and scanning countless photos of Mom from her 89 years. Bill’s wife, Barbara – a graphic artist –…
November was a time of sorrow and remembrance, as Mom left this life. Something tells me, though, that there are a lot of books in heaven. That’s a comforting thought. Mom’s legacy includes a love of reading passed on to her children, grandchildren, and beyond. I asked my brothers to help with this blog post and send some thoughts about how mom influenced their love of books. Here are their stories (presented in alphabetical order by the sibling’s name): Bill,…
You know what, Mom? You’ve got grit. The silence over the phone led me to quickly guess that no one had ever said this to her before. All her life she’d been the sweet, kind poet. Generous, quick with a smile and a hug. Gentle voiced. All her life, she’d also battled depression, anxiety, and an unhealthy dose of Irish-Catholic guilt. Yet somehow she prevailed. You never give up, Mom. No matter what the situation, you dig down within yourself…
Uh-oh. It was 4 o’clock in the morning on Tuesday, November 20, 1984. I was suddenly wide awake, with the realization that either I was losing control of yet another bodily function … or my water broke. It was our first pregnancy and we’d just learned how that “due date” business wasn’t exactly a money-back guarantee. Like nearly everything else in life, a child’s birthday is … a guess. That previous afternoon was the first doctor’s visit Gary was able…
I write this with a tear in my eye, as it’s the anniversary of the death of an incredible person. Jim Gosling was a college pal. We were in the Singing Hoosiers (think Glee for undergrads) together and laughed ourselves silly for three years. Our birthdays were two days apart (plus one year). My second year in Singing Hoosiers, Jim arrived, along with Vince and Mark. All so talented, full of promise; all from Elkhart. You’ve heard the term “triple…
Children – even adult children – often don’t start asking questions until it’s too late. Important questions about the stories their parents and grandparents carry with them, but don’t necessary bring up at the dinner table. I’m so grateful to have a giant (acid-free) folder of photos from my dad’s time in Japan and Korea. With long conversations over the phone, often punctuated by texting photos to his iPad to jog specific memories, Dad and I were able to piece…