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 –…
Mom and Dad are both 89 years old. And today is their 67th wedding anniversary. They still hold hands. They still laugh together. And they still say, “I love you.” Mom and Dad met when they were 13 years old. Dad’s family moved in across the street from Mom’s house in New Haven, Connecticut. Just a year later, they promised to always be together. They kept that promise. But their education came first. Dad headed to Rhode Island and Providence…
Carefully sorting through the precious photos from Mom and Dad’s past, I’ve come across a stack of tiny prints from 1953. Dad confirms that they were photos Mom sent to him while he was serving in the Army overseas. They are nothing short of charming, as Mom added a tiny note to each. Dad brought them home from Korea and saved them all these years. The newlyweds must have missed each other desperately. There was no Internet or mobile-phone service…
My mom and her sister, Bunny, are what sisters ought to be. To this day, they stay in touch regularly and visit when they can. Mom was born April 6, 1930 and christened Joan Virginia Cassidy. Her sister, whom we’ve always called Bunny, arrived a few years later, on January 17, 1933. Cecelia Frances Cassidy was her given name; first name for her mother and middle name for her dad. The good Lord gifted both sisters with red hair. ‘Twas…