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our home on Pomeroy Avenue
Three opinions

Three opinions

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A month ago, while searching for archival newspaper articles about the original library in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, I tucked away a few extra Berkshire Eagle newsclips from the 1960s. Three specific opinion pieces caught my attention, not only because they were written by immediate family members, but because the topics shone such a light on their personalities and interests. Let’s start with Dad. First, let us point out that Dad‘s name was Harold, not Harvey. (Oh, how I wish I’d come…

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Library chair
May the books be with you

May the books be with you

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Another month is coming to an end, along with another pile of satisfying reads. This May, there were new titles by familiar authors, stories from previously unknown writers, plus a cold-case treatment for the tragic betrayal of Anne Frank. Book 1: Brat Farrar by Josephine Tey Oh, this was a good one! When the author appears to give away the ending at the very beginning, you know you’re in for a ride. This particular ride was on a prized horse,…

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Say cheese

Say cheese

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“Oh, boy! Stinky cheese!” Dad sure knew how to clear a room. He was crazy about pungent cheese and all the drama his eating it entailed. Maybe it was the Frenchy-Frenchman side of him? We kids would run for cover while he all but inhaled chunks of Camembert, Munster, and Feta. Phew! As a child, I remember begging Mom to let me wait for her outside of a food shop in Pittsfield, a store that specialized (or so it seemed)…

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late 1940s or early '50s Mom & Dad by the Quinnipiac River Joan Vayo
Chester Yesterday

Chester Yesterday

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When your mother is a prolific poet, it may be best not to try and figure out too much about each individual poem. Mom loved words, the sound of words. And weaving them together into poems was one of her life’s great delights. Perhaps unfortunately, there’s something in me that is so literal, I have to spend at least a little bit of time to try and “figure out” each verse. As if it’s a riddle. Which I know it…

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1959 a Vayo Christmas
The cheap date

The cheap date

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Dad was not one to hoard receipts and other paperwork from his nearly 91 years. But he did hold on to reminders that brought back good memories. “You were a cheap date,” he said to me out of the blue when I was still in my teens. He quickly explained that he’d run across the bill from my birth. “Our insurance didn’t cover everything,” he said with a sigh. “I had to shell out $14.75 when we brought you home.”…

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McHale's Navy, with New Haven's own Ernest Borgnine and Peggy Mondo.
The actress

The actress

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The brain – or more specifically, the memory – is a magnificent thing. A few weeks ago, I saw mention of singer Peggy “Is That All There Is?” Lee and it flashed me back to childhood and the 1960s. “There she is – there’s Peggy!” They pointed at the television excitedly. Mom and Dad were proud of their classmate, who had graduated from St. Mary’s High School in New Haven and went on to perform on stage and screen (large…

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Christmas 1964 three brothers
‘The Call to Christmas’

‘The Call to Christmas’

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Cooking, cleaning, decorating, and wrapping presents took up much of Mom‘s time leading up to Christmas each year. Oh, and writing notes in 200 or more Christmas cards. One tradition that Mom practiced annually often happened after the rest of us were asleep on Christmas Eve. In 1983, she took the time to write about it: The Call to Christmas 12:30 a.m., the early end of Christmas Eve. We have trimmed the tree and adorned the house and the snow…

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1948 Yearbook Staff
Momoire

Momoire

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There’s a basket full of school papers to go through, and it’s hard to make much headway. That’s because they’re Mom‘s papers, presumably from high school and college. Some are easy to figure out, as they retell a current event, or show the results of comparing two writers’ styles. There are news clips, too. Other papers, though, will remain a mystery. No date, no teacher’s name. But as long as Mom’s name is there – Joan Cassidy – I know…

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Dave's baby grand piano
The final performance

The final performance

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“Paula, can you find something for me on your computer? There’s something I want to give Dad.” My heart leapt. It was 2016, and Mom was deep into Parkinson’s. She hadn’t been able to go out shopping for years. By then, most of our daily phone conversations were fairly one-sided. I provided family updates, which she enjoyed and could later share with Dad. One update Mom would be sure to give me, though, was: “Dad played the piano this afternoon….

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1903 Lucie Plante's baptism certificate
Waltzing (’round) Mathilda

Waltzing (’round) Mathilda

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It’s only just now occurring to me that Dad‘s love of the song “Waltzing Matilda” might be because his mom’s middle name was Mathilda. He’d sing over and over: Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabongUnder the shade of a Coolibah treeAnd he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled“You’ll come a Waltzing Matilda with me” If you’re not familiar with Australia’s unofficial national anthem, here’s a 1962 recording by Dad’s favorite folk musician, Richard Dyer-Bennett:…

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