Newly retired, I’ve mentioned to Gary over the past seven months how much I look forward to getting snowed in this winter, surrounded by books. With memoirs by Eva Kor, Graham Norton, and a few less familiar names topping the stack, I was ready for whatever Mother Nature might fling at us. The books surround us, but there’s nary a flake in sight. Although we haven’t needed to pile up the blankets just yet, it is a wonderful situation to…
A week before Mom’s passing, I asked her about what is perhaps my favorite poem, “The King My Father.” At that point, her ability to speak had lessened greatly. Parkinson’s had cruelly robbed her of simple conversation. She regressed from struggling to remember a specific word to the point that she’d start a sentence but would stop after two or three words. And so when I asked her for the backstory about her poem “The King My Father,” my own…
Mom collected “-isms” as we grew up. When one of us used a word or phrase in an unusual or mispronounced way, it became part of the family’s lexicon. There were Harry-isms, Dave-isms, etc. We’ll no doubt revisit this topic as my brothers and I dust off our memories from long ago, but for now here are some from Gary’s and my sons. Uh-oh! Monsters! Youngest son James never missed a chance to visit Grandma’s side of the farm (she…
One of the hardest parts about living in Indiana is being so far away from the ocean. Growing up, we vacationed in Ogunquit, Maine, and in earlier years, Leetes Island, Connecticut. Both spots were within walking distance to the beach. It was glorious! But we waved goodbye to all of that when we moved to Indiana in 1973. My parents relocated to Connecticut four years later and eventually retired there, but I stayed put. As our sons grew up here…
Gosh, I remember that day. We were at Grandma and Grandpa Cassidy’s house for a visit. This story centers around their kitchen. And eggs. I loved that kitchen, and the adjacent pantry. The kitchen included a dinette set, pushed up against the wall. That wall featured a Murphy bed-esque ironing board – it folded up and all but disappeared! The room also included a gas stove and a tall white cabinet that was freestanding. I’m sure that cupboard housed a…
In case you haven’t happened upon this fact, I’m here to tell you: There’s nothing quite as polarizing as black olives. Some people love them. And I mean LOVE. To the point they’ll steal them off of your plate. While others … well, we won’t steal them back. My introduction to black olives was back in the mid 1960s. Each Friday, Mom packed up the kids and we headed to Adams Super Market. It was a huge store, for the…
There’s nothing quite as gross as baby food. You know, the greenish glop in a jar that just doesn’t smell right. It did my heart good to read in this poem that Mom believed in babies eating real food, too, even sixtysomething years ago. The Roast Beef Baby We moved to Pennsylvaniawhen you were one, about.We slept three nights in a moteland ate our dinners out. Now other babies at your agewere eating out of jars:mushed and mashed and lumpy…
A number of years ago, Gary and I were in Amish Country in Daviess County, Indiana. We strolled over to a nearby flea market (more to walk off the good meal we’d just enjoyed, frankly, than any desire to shop). We wandered by several rows of tables in the open-air market. After a few minutes, I noticed Gary was no longer by my side. He motioned me over, back to a table I’d hurried past. Gary pointed sadly toward several…
On New Years Day, I read a blurb about CNN’s Anderson Cooper, who revealed he had offered, years ago, to host the annual countdown to midnight so that he could avoid the sadness of the anniversary of the loss of his father. Wyatt Emory Cooper died on January 5, 1978. Anderson was just 10 years old. Losing a parent when you’re just a kid must be awful. Indescribably so. Anderson is also mourning his mom, who passed away in June…
It came as quite a surprise when a radio host mentioned, a month or so ago, that the end of 2019 also marks the end of the decade. As the “teens” come to an end, here are the books that carried me through December: Week 1: Fosse by Sam Wasson Since I haven’t had a chance to catch the Fosse/Verdon miniseries based on this tome yet, it seemed like a good idea to start with the book. Thankfully, I downloaded…