November was a time of sorrow and remembrance, as Mom left this life. Something tells me, though, that there are a lot of books in heaven. That’s a comforting thought. Mom’s legacy includes a love of reading passed on to her children, grandchildren, and beyond. I asked my brothers to help with this blog post and send some thoughts about how mom influenced their love of books. Here are their stories (presented in alphabetical order by the sibling’s name): Bill,…
You know what, Mom? You’ve got grit. The silence over the phone led me to quickly guess that no one had ever said this to her before. All her life she’d been the sweet, kind poet. Generous, quick with a smile and a hug. Gentle voiced. All her life, she’d also battled depression, anxiety, and an unhealthy dose of Irish-Catholic guilt. Yet somehow she prevailed. You never give up, Mom. No matter what the situation, you dig down within yourself…
“I had a bad dream last night. In my dream, I hugged Sister Amabilis too tightly. I broke her.” Poor Gary. He’d just met my great aunt the day before. He was stunned by how tiny she was. As newlyweds in 1982, we made the rounds in New England to visit relatives who couldn’t make it to our wedding. It was a treat to see Sister Amabilis, who was then 87 years old. Sister Mary Amabilis Regan was first-generation American,…
Today is the 25th of the month. It’s Christmas in October, did you catch it? Here’s a poem (a song, actually) that Mom wrote in April of 1957. Harry was nearly two and Dave just a month old. How Mom had time to think, much less create such a sweet lullaby, is truly beyond me! The Wonderful World of Downstairs The wonderful world of downstairshas ice cream every day;The wonderful world of downstairs is where my animals play. I will…
My mom loves Halloween. Pumpkins, gourds, cider, witches, black cats, and the occasional ghost, of course. She loves it all! Mom also loves children’s books. She wrote this Halloween story – featuring a witch called Grantie Grackle – back in the mid-1960s. My oldest brother, Harry, collaborated as her illustrator back when he was just 10 years old. Three decades later, Mom made copies of “The Whitewashed Ghost” and shared them with her increasing number of grandchildren. With her permission…
I miss the brudders every day. They’re all where they need to be – and want to be – at this point in their lives, and that’s how it should be. But there are more than a few sighs around here as Gary and I reminisce. One of my happiest ongoing memories is of driving each one of our three sons to school in the morning. They were born so far apart in years (in 1984, 1991, and 1999), that…
My parents are nature lovers. (For a reason I don’t recall, this moniker was often pronounced “nay-CHOO love-OOS” over the years.) My two older brothers even went to “nature camp” back in grade school. Indeed, they each won a free week at Nature Camp for scoring highly on tests given following Saturday morning nay-choo films at the local museum in Pittsfield. I went just once. Sacrificing Saturday morning cartoons for a chance at nature camp just wasn’t worth it to…