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Tag: Grandpa Cassidy

All Souls Day
‘All Souls Day in Cellophane’

‘All Souls Day in Cellophane’

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Growing up as a Catholic kid, it was confusing. Probably exacerbated by the sugar hangover from Halloween. The Sisters at Sacred Heart School would test us: What. Comes. Next? Well, there was All Saints Day and All Souls Day, but in what order? (I got crafty one year and noticed they were alphabetical.) Good heavens, no wonder we were confused. Here’s what Wikipedia says: All Saints’ Day, also known as All Hallows’ Day, the Feast of All Saints, the Feast of All Hallows, the Solemnity of All…

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Frankenchair
The Frankenchair

The Frankenchair

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Back in June, as Gary and I cleared out my parents’ home for sale, I phoned my cousin Suzanne about one particular wooden chair. “The chair with the lions. That was from Grandma and Grandpa’s house, right Suzie?” You mean the Frankenchair? Up until that moment, I hadn’t realized the chair in my folks’ music room had a story behind it. Our grandpa was a policeman in New Haven, Connecticut, from 1926 through 1952. He loved to walk the beat…

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Officer Frank Cassidy

Officer Frank Cassidy

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So many questions pop up as I slowly make my way through the boxes and trunks from my parents’ house. Mom kept a wooden keepsake box on her dresser. It now sits in our library, on top of a table that graced the entryway of her childhood home in New Haven. It took me weeks to summon up the emotional strength to take a peek inside. Among the assorted notes from the past, prayer cards, a handwritten poem from fourth…

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Officer Frank Cassidy
New Haven’s finest

New Haven’s finest

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A little red-haired boy was born in New Haven, Connecticut, in June of 1900. The turn of the century. His parents – Pat and Anna – were Irish immigrants. His father, a policeman. Little Frank Cassidy looked for ways to earn money and help out his parents. He sold lemons on street corners near his home on Lombard Street. He’d search for pieces of coal to bring home. One year, he found enough along the railroad tracks to heat their…

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Lincoln on bench
The vaccine

The vaccine

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Today was the day. Time to head to the county courthouse for a little prick in the arm. The entire process took less than half an hour. Checked in, secured a second Covid vaccine appointment, got my “Fauci Ouchie,” and went into the rotunda to sit in a chair for 15-minutes, just in case. And whom should I run into? Why, it’s Mr. Lincoln! As must as I’d like to have sat next to him, Abraham and I agreed that…

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Officer Patrick R Cassidy NHPD
The policeman

The policeman

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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…

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1938 Grandma C with her children
Candies from Grandma

Candies from Grandma

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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…

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1929 Grandma Cassidy
The gospel according to Grandma

The gospel according to Grandma

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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…

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A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
A Wrinkle in Time

A Wrinkle in Time

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Mom collected a lot more than books. She collected friends. We moved around a lot in the 1960s and ’70s, and she stayed in touch with each group of friends and neighbors. This was pre-email, of course. Dad used to tease that Mom kept the post office solvent. One friend was Newbery-winning author Madeleine L’Engle. In a future post, I’ll share some of their correspondence. In the meantime, I read L’Engle’s most famous book (finally!) this month. Week 1: A…

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Circa 1981 Cassidys & Regans
A sense of holy laughter

A sense of holy laughter

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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….

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