My aunt Bunny told me this story several times. Grandma had suitors before she got serious with Grandpa, but she liked to mention one fellow in particular when she looked back on her days as a young colleen. I wasn’t sure whether to tell this story, but then realized Mom mentioned him in this poem: and yet before the great depressionbefore his father diedbefore they left the house that he was born in my father had his picture taken in…
There was never any question about Joseph Malachy Regan: He was the family patriarch. One glance at this photo says it all: The newly married couple is Cecelia Margaret Regan Cassidy and Francis Raymond Cassidy, my maternal grandparents. The setting is New Haven, Connecticut, on June 24, 1929. And who is that white-haired gentleman sitting between the newlyweds? That’s Grandma’s beloved father, Joe Regan, called “Pop” by his descendants. I guess the seating plan makes sense, as Grandma’s attendants (Grandpa’s…
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…
“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…
As I sat down to write this story, it seemed fitting to tune in to one of the Irish music channels on my satellite-radio app. The first song? Molly Malone. That was one of Dad‘s favorites. When I’d gingerly play it on the piano as a kid, he’d burst in from wherever he was in the house or yard, singing: In Dublin’s fair city … Pardon me while I wipe my eyes. What have we here? Another letter to Grandma…
Grandpa Cassidy had three sisters. Ethel Mary was two years older than he, born in 1898 in New Haven. Earlier that decade, the name Ethel was the seventh most popularly given name to baby girls. It means noble. The youngest of Ethel’s three children, Jean, wrote down the following memory: We sat on the porch on a sunny Thursday June afternoon, following the big surprise 40th Wedding Anniversary Party. It had been Anna’s idea. She said we should make hay…
Mom dearly loved her aunt Ginny. The youngest of Grandpa Cassidy‘s siblings, Ginny lived her entire life on Lombard Street in New Haven. Virginia Anne Cassidy came into this world on December 11, 1915. This was a full 22 years after her oldest brother, John, was born. Grandpa was 15 years older than Ginny. After all these years, it’s only now coming to me that Mom must have been named for her. Virginia was Mom‘s middle name. This is the…
This feels like a miracle. Or at the very least, an answer from Saint Anthony. The other morning, I woke up full of determination to look into the other side of Mom’s family. The Cassidy side. Surely there must be someone out there who was also a great-grandchild of Patrick and Annie who wants family stories preserved and shared. Right? I started with the youngest of their seven children, worked my way to Marcella, and put together a story about…
As today is the anniversary of D-Day, I went looking for a relative who served during World War II and came across Mom’s Mulligan cousins. Let’s start with John Joseph Mulligan, Jr. He was born in 1920 in New Haven, Connecticut. Here’s a photo from his high-school yearbook: Sadly, his mom – Bertha Prindle Mulligan – passed away when he was only ten. She was 31. Eighteen months later, John got a stepmom. Mom’s aunt Marcella Cassidy married John Sr….