Category: Memories

In Memory of…

…my father who passed from this life into the next 15 years ago today. The song that I’m sharing is one I wrote, inspired by words he whispered in my ear as I was leaving home and saying my tearful goodbyes many, many years ago.
Though Dad was not prone to emotion and mostly kept all his feelings under wraps, I’ll always remember what he said to me that day. Not only was I troubled with my goodbyes that day, but he was, too. The moment only lasted seconds but live on in the sacred places of my heart…two who often were at odds, finding a commonality in their grief and learning that the deeper bond of a father and daughter might get stretched at times, but could never be broken.

In remembrance of Mom

If there was one thing my mother was, she was fearless in the kitchen and even into her 90s LOVED to try new recipes. So, in remembrance of her today on her birthday, I’m going to try making hoisin sauce for some Asian meatballs and stir fry I’ll be making later for dinner.
I’m not sure it would meet the approval of your childhood friend Fung-toi, but I’m hoping it would yours.

I’m catching on, Mom…I’m catching on.

Happy birthday, Mom

These little African Violets, once my mother’s, now make their home on my kitchen window sill. After making them my camera’s muse, I can see why she loved them so.

They were the perfect remedy for so many ills of life here on earth.  Besides the fact that they must have eased her loneliness when her house was empty – first of children and then a husband of 70 years, she, as I do today, must have felt the relief from the grays, browns, and whites of winter with the arrival of each pretty bloom. 

Happy Birthday, Mom. If, by chance, you’ve been asked to to tend Heaven’s African Violets – with your attention and care, I know they are in good hands. For these you left to mine, thank you so very much.  

You always knew how to give good gifts. ❤️

Song Cue

I’m not sure what inspired the giving of this bracelet. It could be that the gift-giver remembered that the song that shares the same title as the words on the bracelet, was one that was popular in our household and we would hear it sung and later sing it ourselves as children into our teen years.

Maybe the gift-giver remembers that singing the song was the one and only memory – sweet or otherwise – I have of a visit at my grandmother’s house on the Bloomingdale Road, on the outskirts of our hometown of Saranac Lake, New York. Or maybe the gift-giver remembers hearing the story of how I, as a child of 3 or 4, was roused from my sleep in the wee hours of the morning to sing this song for famed N.Y. Brooklyn Dodger pitcher Johnny Padre visiting our home with our road-roving, but dear, Uncle Norm in our small family kitchen, dimly lit only by the glowing light of my mother’s oven.

Other reasons for the gift are possibilities, but WHATEVER the reason, it has now become one of my new favorite pieces of decorative adornment. I know the gift was meant as an expression of love, but I hope the simple words will inspire me to not only enjoy my past affiliations with the song, bringing people back to life if only in my memories, but also live up to the words etched on the surface of the bangle every time I wrap it around my wrist. It’s a tall order, but the gift-giver thinks I’m up to it. God knows, I hope I am.

My winter-window view

Late 1950s-early 1960s This was our ‘winter’ view from our front window of our childhood home on Duprey Street in Saranac Lake – this hill was where we spent hours as children sliding on whatever was available – sleds, toboggans, corrugated cardboard boxes…even old wooden skis were resurrected for winter fun and shenanigans. But this photo, recently converted from a degraded color slide from Dad’s archives, was of particular interest when I noticed just yesterday the cross at the top left of the photo, hovering in the sky. It could be an anomaly in the slide… or is it?