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…
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…
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…
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…
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…
“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…
“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…
My brothers and I grew up watching Captain Kangaroo. Good morning, Captain! The Captain was a smiling fellow, with big pouchy pockets in his coat (hence the moniker). Every once in a while, he still shows up in social media: When I saw the “Who Wore It Better?” meme a year or so ago, I emailed my brothers to see what they recalled about The Captain. Something we all remembered was that Mom once met him. But not one of…
Do you have a favorite number? (I don’t …) Mom sure did. She loved the number four. And so when I saw this was TooMuchBrudders Blog Post Number 444, it was time to pause. Mom was born in April, the fourth month. She married Dad on the fourth of November, 1952. She had four children. For the heck of it, I looked up the number 444. According to Dictionary.com, it’s an “angel number,” with lots of positive attributes attached. Checking…
She was just 13 years old. It must have felt like the world was exploding. Her uncles were in uniform. The radio blasted news of war. There was rationing of food and materials. Newspaper headlines were frightening. So Mom wrote poems. Some she included in letters to her aunt who lived an hour away. It wasn’t until after Sister Amabilis passed away that Mom discovered all her letters had been preserved. This poem about the USS Hornet was so long,…