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….
YOU! Close the door and lock it. Class begins on time. No latecomers! It was the first day of class. My final college class. And the professor was a madman. A MAD man, actually. Fred Brewer eventually told us he was a former editor of MAD Magazine, the irreverent comic-book-style periodical. He’d served as editor of the British edition. But this was Indiana University in June of 1980, my senior year. All I had left before leaving campus was one…
My great-aunt May Regan was a wonderful woman. She was kind and fun and caring. A good cook, too. May was also Mom’s godmother. May grew up on Lombard Street in Fair Haven. In later years, May lived with her brother Pip; together they were like a bonus set of grandparents to us. On June 12, 1989, Mom presented the eulogy she wrote about her godmother May at her funeral. Here it is: In Praise of May She was our…
“I learned something new today,” Dad told me the other day during our evening phone call. “Not that I’ll ever use it, but a group of hummingbirds is called a ‘charm.’” Dad welcomes hummingbirds to his yard each year, even though some fluffy-tailed four-legged friends like to take advantage: When we were kids, Dad called himself “The Big Professor.” He knew stuff, and when we asked him how he knew this or that, his response was always: Because I’m the…
Who remembers Dan Quayle? (This isn’t a political commentary – promise!) In case you don’t remember him, he was the nation’s 44th Vice President, under President George H.W. Bush. And he was born in Indiana. My first job out of college was in radio news in a little community called Tell City, Indiana. Named for William Tell, there were lots of apples and arrows about town, especially in the logos for local businesses and schools. The first few months I…
Farmer Gary doesn’t like snakes. Not one bit. Living on a farm, though, there are plenty of opportunities for reptilian encounters. Here are just a few: Pssst! Up here! The other morning, Gary headed out to our garage to hop on his John Deere lawnmower, as the grass in our yard is in rapid-growth mode. First, he backed my vehicle out of the way. Walking back in to get the mower, a scruffy old bird’s nest on the ground right…
My sister-in-law Linda posted some beautiful flower photos this morning on Facebook. She and my brother Harry live in Maine and spend a lot of their time happily communing with nature. I, on the other hand, can recognize pansies and geraniums, but I fear that’s about it. Oh, and roses. Carnations and day lilies, too, But that’s it. So it’s a good thing Linda identified the flowers in her post as peonies. Now I may not recognize peonies, but at…
Did you see those book-banning fools are at it again? In Alaska, they’re quivering with fear at the thought of their young darlings reading Catch 22 or (gasp!) The Great Gatsby. As if that’s not embarrassing enough, when it’s discussed around the world – especially by the country that gave us Queen Victoria – it’s time to simply duck under the covers with a good book and read ’til it’s safe to come out again. Happily, banned books tend to…
“Goose! You know BEE-thoven?!“ Cameron was stunned that I recognized the piano piece he’d just finished. Yes, Cam. In fact it was the wedding song played when Papaw and I got married. “Goose! You and Papaw are married?!” Clearly we need to talk about the fact that Gary and I haven’t just been shacking up all these years. Cameron is our constant delight. Our joy. Looking back even further than our 1982 nuptials, I realize Beethoven’s 9th Symphony has always…
For the past decade or so, I made a point of not deleting voicemails from my mom. Knowing she wouldn’t be around forever, I wanted to have a way to still hear her voice. But last spring as I prepared to retire, I “wiped” my work phone without saving the messages. Darn it! If only I’d thought to ask any one of my sons for help, surely we could have preserved those precious files. Happily, something even better has turned…