Browsed by
Tag: Mom

‘Turning Pages’

‘Turning Pages’

We haven’t had a poem from Mom in far too long! Here’s one from 1999: Turning Pages What is the driver turning toparked with his back to the sea I have been singing and turning pagesof the Christmas carols our son played for the family Before we left to sing in Indianawe met a man on Meigs Point herea former soldier carrying his coffeetelling about his happy lifehis Christmas shopping during this vacationhe had turned a page Below Meigs Point…

Read More Read More

The lamplighter

The lamplighter

My aunt Bunny told me this story several times. Grandma had suitors before she got serious with Grandpa, but she liked to mention one fellow in particular when she looked back on her days as a young colleen. I wasn’t sure whether to tell this story, but then realized Mom mentioned him in this poem: and yet before the great depressionbefore his father diedbefore they left the house that he was born in my father had his picture taken in…

Read More Read More

The West Virginia Hillbilly

The West Virginia Hillbilly

Thank you for your concern about my getting a new heart. I really am eager for them to call me up and tell me to get to the hospital right away. At the same time I am full of fear and anxiety. It is a hell of a way to live for an extended period of time. I find that the best way is to get busy reading, going to movies, or even coming down here to the fisheries and…

Read More Read More

The Boy in the School Bus

The Boy in the School Bus

Maybe they were on their way to share a coffee and muffin and watch the waves and gulls at Meigs Point. Or perhaps they were on their way to Mass. With Dad driving, Mom could pay attention to what else was happening along the way. On this June morning in 2005, she spied an artist: Lines for the Boy in the School Bus Drawing His pad was braced against the seat before himthe pencil in his handraced to recapturethe picture…

Read More Read More

‘Will Winter Come’

‘Will Winter Come’

When I pulled this short story from a stack of Mom’s college writings, I thought of my sister-in-law Linda. As Farmer Gary and I check out the weather forecast every morning and evening, we end with a quick scroll by the temperatures in family members’ towns (we’ve added Sainte-Croix and Toomebridge recently). As we reach my brother Harry and Linda’s town in Maine, often I cry out a warning: Uh-oh! When Maine is hotter and more humid than Indiana, it’s…

Read More Read More

‘Some Things I Only Did Once’

‘Some Things I Only Did Once’

Interesting idea: Think back on your life and then list things you only did once. Mom came up with her list two days after she turned 78. I remember hearing about a few of these, but there are definitely some mysteries. Some Things I Only Did Once Some things I only did oncetook a balloon ridemade baklavapainted our daughter’s roomtraveled to the top of a mountainand the bottom of the seaice skated in my grandmother’s drivewaychewed tobacco on the back…

Read More Read More

‘Letting Go’

‘Letting Go’

I’m so glad Mom saved this. It’s an article her sister, Bunny, wrote for Family Seasons, a supplement to the monthly newspaper (now magazine) provided to members of the Hartford archdiocese in Connecticut. The November 1991 feature story was about Bunny’s experience with “anticipatory grief” as Grandma completed her last few years here on earth. Letting Go Do not go gentle into that good night,Old age should burn and rage at close of day,Rage, rage against the dying of the…

Read More Read More

‘Epilogue’

‘Epilogue’

This is the story of Thomas Edward Regan. Sadly, I don’t know much about him, but I’ll share everything I’ve been able to piece together. We’ll start at the beginning: Thomas Edward Regan was born in New Haven, Connecticut, on June 27, 1946. He was his parents’ only child. He was born two months and a day after his namesake and grandfather died. Thomas Edward Regan was only 44 and had suffered from tuberculosis for years. Sadly, the grandson wasn’t…

Read More Read More

‘The Good Child’

‘The Good Child’

“Oh Mom, he looks like you! Your great-grandson has your smile.” I couldn’t wait to tell Mom that baby Cameron had the same sweet smile as the one in her baby picture. I knew that portrait well. It hung in her parents’ living room for decades. It now hung in Mom and Dad’s bedroom. Today, I came across this poem Mom wrote in 1996. She was just a year younger than I am now. ‘The Good Child’ She is the…

Read More Read More

Love, Bunny

Love, Bunny

“Bunny, I wish you were my godmother.” I’ll never forget the look on Bunny’s face. We were standing at the bottom of the stairs in my parents’ home. It must have been around Christmas and I was home from college. Indiana to Connecticut didn’t happen too often; it was good to be around family. My Mom’s younger sister’s face brightened into a beautiful smile. She told me she’d have been glad to be my godmother. (For some reason, my parents…

Read More Read More