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Category Archives: Family History
This morning, for no particular reason, I suddenly thought about a weird incongruous memory from my childhood, something that happened more than sixty years ago. Isn’t it funny how random images appear in our heads, completely unconnected to the narrative in … Continue reading
It feels so odd to say it now, but I once lived in Chicago. I moved there in 1971 to be with the medical student who was my first husband, and although I left repeatedly, it was something of a home … Continue reading
My father aspired to be a doctor. I still have in my possession a letter from St. Francis College outlining the requirements for a pre-med course of study, sent in response to his hopeful inquiry. The 1920s were drawing to … Continue reading
Shortly after the end of World War II, one of my grandfather’s brothers sent a letter to him describing impoverished conditions in Southern Italy and asking if my grandfather would send a decent pair of shoes for his daughter Rosaria. My grandfather had … Continue reading
Out of it all—came this moment for the soldier. The moment that in a sense was silly and yet sublime. That made him want to giggle but also to expostulate, this delicately balanced instant between the birth of a hysterical … Continue reading
This post is connected to yesterday’s blog of holiday reflections prompted by a photograph from 1962. I also shared the picture on Facebook, and two of my siblings commented. The sister who was a toddler in my father’s lap in that photo was obviously too … Continue reading
This photograph was taken in December of 1962, and my only clue that it was the Christmas season is the decorated tree behind us, a scrawny thing, but it represents an effort. (I note that there are even a few wrapped presents at the … Continue reading
I made an enlargement of this photo for my mother a few years ago and mounted it on the wall in front of her bed so she could see it every morning. It was a source of delight to her, and … Continue reading
My mother is still at the assisted living facility where she has resided for more than a decade, and I’m grateful that she’s been able to remain in a setting that is familiar to her, but there’s something about it that … Continue reading