This is a picture of the younger of my sisters, Marcia, when she was about four. I THINK the dress was pink.
One of those holidays I think WAS created by Hallmark is Grandparents Day. Well, technically not, but it FEELS that way.
Here’s another picture my sister Marcia found, taken at some point in the 1940s; no idea where, when or why. The woman in the top row, second from the right is my great aunt Charlotte and the guy next to her in the sweater is her husband, Ernie Yates. Ernie died while his kids Raymond (directly in front of Charlotte), Frances (sitting on the floor), and Donald (on the blonde girl’s lap) were still young, but Charlotte had grandchildren, as Fran, Donald, and Robert (either not yet born, or an infant) all had children. Fran and Donald now have grandchildren.
The woman behind the blonde girl, partially obscured, is my grandma Continue reading Grandparents Day: my grandmas, and one of my daughter's
As I perused the pictures my baby sister Marcia sent me this spring via Facebook, I noted only one of just her and me. That’s not that surprising; I have not a lot of memories of things she and I did alone together. There were many things the THREE of us did together: Leslie, 16 months younger, and Marcia, five years my junior. Also, Leslie and I sang together, and Leslie and Marcia shared a room.
Still, there was one thing Marcia and I did together that was just ours, without Leslie or my parents Continue reading As Illya Kuryakin, the baby sister
I spent the first 18 years of my life in the same house, at 5 Gaines Street in Binghamton, NY. Gaines was a very short street between Oak Street and Front Street, with only 16 possible addresses, and actually fewer buildings than that.
At the corner of Gaines and Front was O’Leary’s convenience store. I went there and bought packs of baseball cards, but I also had to buy my father’s Winston cigarettes, which irritated me greatly.
In the yard at 1 Gaines Street was a huge gnarled tree which terrified me. Continue reading I is for I
Rose wrote, in response to my post P is for (Helicopter) Parenting, that it was the first time I had written about family. This surprised me, initially, because I’ve gone on about my daughter every month on the 26th of the month, without fail. In fact, it was one of the two purported reasons I STARTED this blog back in 2005, the other being to tell the JEOPARDY! story.
I’ve written about my wife at least twice a year, on our anniversary and her birthday. My late parents I’ve discussed on the anniversaries of their births and deaths, and my sisters on their respective birthdays.
It’s true, though, that I’ve seldom written about them for ABC Wednesday. Here, then, a summary.
My parents both grew up in Binghamton, New York, a small city near the Pennsylvania border. They were both only children, no I have no direct aunts, uncles or first cousins. Anyone I have called cousins are either my parents’ cousins, or their children. So we have a very small tribe.
My parents met cute Continue reading F is for Family
Back in the mid-1980s, my “baby” sister Marcia, who was in her mid-20s , was living at home home with our parents in Charlotte, NC. I said to her at the time, “You’d better get out of there. You’re going to get stuck taking care of our aging parents,” who were approaching 60 (in other words, about my current age – yeesh.)
After my father died in 2000, my mother, my sister and her daughter lived together. Continue reading The baby sister as caretaker
In the Scudder Hall dorm, at the State University College of New Paltz, my room was B-2. I had a roommate named Ron, who was a graduate student; an odd pairing, a freshman and someone doing post-graduate work. But he was a pretty easy-going guy, and I guess I didn’t drive him too crazy.
It was surprising, though, that one day, Ron decided that we really needed to thoroughly clean the room. I didn’t think it looked that bad, but I admit I would not have been the gold standard for that kind of thing.
A couple days later, which was a Sunday, my friend Uthaclena were over at one of the dining halls playing billiards. Continue reading 40 Years Ago: March 5, 1972 – did not see that coming
One of the things I guess I’ve decided to do – I didn’t think about it, it just evolved – is to note the birthdays of my sisters each year, not just on the ones divisible by 5 or 10. And no, it is not one of the “big” birthdays this year for any of us, actually.
Marcia, the “baby” sister, quite possibly had a tougher Mother’s Day than either Leslie or I did. After all, she lived with our mom for much of her life; first my mom was taking care of her, then in the later years, her taking care of Mom. Whereas Leslie and I would visit Mom one to three times a year for a few days, Marcia would see her daily. Continue reading Marcia's birthday
My recollection is that we were 10, 9 and 5. One of my sisters thinks 8, 7, and 3. My mother doesn’t remember.
Regardless, it is our very favorite picture of us, especially compared with the next picture of the three of us (NOT SHOWN, thank you very much, which we call the “year of the bad glasses.” Mine were opversized horn-rimmed, and the girls were wearing cats-eyes.
The picture above, I THINK, was taken at McLean’s department store in downtown Binghamton, NY, where my mother worked in the bookkeeping department. For all the time I can remember, my mom worked outside of the home, at McLean’s, then at Columbia Gas & Electric. When she moved to Charlotte, NC, she worked at First Union Bank as a teller.
Continue reading 30-Day Challenge: Day 17- A Childhood Picture