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Tag: Mom

Brave new world

Brave new world

“Boy am I glad to have this cell phone!” Well, I nearly cried. I’d talked Dad into buying a mobile phone well over a decade ago. It took until the other day – and the aftermath of Hurricane Isaias – to hear him praise the handiness of this new-fangled option to his trusty land-line phone. Gary and I sometimes ponder this question: What gadgets will our sons want us to use in the future? My husband is incredibly technology-adverse (although…

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The soda jerk

The soda jerk

When you’re a child of the Depression, you have a different outlook on personal finance. Mom used to tell the story of Dad, as a young child, going door to door trying to sell his toys. He wanted to help feed his family. When I asked him about it recently, Dad recalled that he sold his alphabet blocks for five cents a piece. He raised about 25 cents, and presented the pennies and nickels to his parents. As he hit…

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The Big Professor

The Big Professor

“I learned something new today,” Dad told me the other day during our evening phone call. “Not that I’ll ever use it, but a group of hummingbirds is called a ‘charm.’” Dad welcomes hummingbirds to his yard each year, even though some fluffy-tailed four-legged friends like to take advantage: When we were kids, Dad called himself “The Big Professor.” He knew stuff, and when we asked him how he knew this or that, his response was always: Because I’m the…

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‘Running disaster!’

‘Running disaster!’

In the middle of the night, a mosquito bite woke me up from a deep sleep. Not a new bite, just an extremely itchy one. Darn those mosquitoes! The bite was so itchy that I’d dabbed Benedryl Cream on it yesterday afternoon, and topped it off with a band-aid. Advice: Be sure to put tubes of anti-itch cream away safely after using. As mortifying as this is, I must admit to not paying attention a few weeks ago and squeezing…

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To Mask or Not to Mask?

To Mask or Not to Mask?

To mask, or not to mask … Why is that even a question? I’m old enough to remember the national flap when seat belts were made mandatory. Even as a kid, I thought it was ridiculous to see adults rail about having a “constitutional right” to carry their baby on their lap while in a car. Or – gasp – not wear a seat belt so as not to wrinkle their clothes. The politicization of masks is a national disgrace….

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The new kid

The new kid

It’s “Tell the Truth Day” and, boy, does that trigger a memory! It was the fall of 1968 and I was a 5th grader at Sacred Heart Elementary School in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. There were two fifth grade classes, taught by Mrs. McGill and Sister Helena Maria. On the first day of class, our names were called. My two best friends – Elizabeth Cross and Anne Marie Cuzzone – were thrilled to be in Mrs. McGill’s class. I crossed my fingers…

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One year retired

One year retired

Well, that went fast. Retired. For one full year. It still feels like I’m playing hooky every day. And it still feels great. No second guessing. No regrets. The year itself, though, hasn’t been easy. Mom’s death continues to be mighty tough. Extra visits with Dad have helped a lot, well until the pandemic took over. Thank goodness for phones, texting, and Facetime. John and Aubrie’s wedding is an ongoing ray of sunshine in our lives. The glow of love…

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A wagon for Billy

A wagon for Billy

This story isn’t about my brother Billy, but the gentleman he was named after, our mom’s uncle Bill Regan. Since Mom’s passing last November, Bill Regan’s daughter Patty and I have been in touch via email, as we piece together stories about Grandma Cassidy‘s side of the family. Little Billy, the second youngest of Joe and Maggie Regan’s 11 children, was born in New Haven, Connecticut, in 1908. He lived to be 96 years old. Patty sent me the following…

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Christmas Shopping 1963

Christmas Shopping 1963

Memory is a fascinating function of the brain. It’s especially curious when two people share the same experience, but carry somewhat different versions with them into the future. For example, a Christmas shopping trip in December 1963, with Dad as my shopping buddy. Destination: downtown Pittsfield, Massachusetts. (After 1963, Mom always took me Christmas shopping. It was a treat. We would stop by Rosa Restaurant on North Street “for a bite,” as Mom would say.) It never occurred to me…

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Chimbleys and peonies

Chimbleys and peonies

My sister-in-law Linda posted some beautiful flower photos this morning on Facebook. She and my brother Harry live in Maine and spend a lot of their time happily communing with nature. I, on the other hand, can recognize pansies and geraniums, but I fear that’s about it. Oh, and roses. Carnations and day lilies, too, But that’s it. So it’s a good thing Linda identified the flowers in her post as peonies. Now I may not recognize peonies, but at…

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