Category Archives: Family History

Confession

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

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Chicago

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

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On Labor Day

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

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Shoes

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

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The Moment by PFC S.W. Carbone

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

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Our Rashomon…And A Child’s Touching Faith

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

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The Holidays

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

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Somehow

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

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Blackbirds on a Green Lawn

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

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Listening to My Father’s Voice

My father’s voice is pressed onto a little disc recorded about 70 years ago when he was stationed at Camp Cooke. He had gone into Lompoc to book railroad tickets. “This message will announce my homecoming verbally,” he says. “I will … Continue reading

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