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Light

Upon the recent death & burial of my mother many memories float into my thoughts lately.

For some reason I have been vividly remembering my 11th Christmas .My first big life-change and loss I guess.

My parents put our house on the market in upstate New York and drove to Florida in the summer of 1971. The non-air-conditioned car was packed with mom ,dad ,me ,my brother ,my grandmother & our collie, who got carsick often. But my brother went off to college across the country.

Because our house in New York had not sold when dad bought a house in Florida ,plus paid for the moving van expenses to drive down here—

Money was tight. I was the only one out of four children who went to public schools and state university instead of Catholic schools.

So a lonely Christmas came around that year —in a new home in a new state and a new school where there weren’t many children or young people in retirement land in 1971—

And Christmas was never Again the big flood of toys & mountain of gifts under the tree.

That winter, When My parents asked what I wanted for Christmas, for some reason 11-year old me replied that I wanted my own Bible.

That Bible, plus a lamp for my study desk to do homework, were all I received for Christmas that year.

A Lifetime has gone by now. Many many gift- giving occasions happened over all these years. I married. We raised two daughters who had a childhood full of shiny sparkling presents, gorgeous wrapping and gifts. I’ve received my share of lovely gifts as well.

But do you know what one gift I still remember and still have till this day? The Bible from 1971—which proved to be A true lamp for my path and light to my eyes.

Grief

Grief is a funny thing. One minute you’re fine— happy ,smiling ,carrying on a conversation or taking care of business.

The next minute a thought or memory comes into your mind and you burst out wailing in tears.😭

Then a few moments later, you’re back to your usual self🤦‍♂️

I’ve even awakened from a light sleep and heard myself sobbing with a 💔.

Healing hurts and takes time.

Pantsed—But Not Like That!

So I was in the garage today doing laundry. I hung up a pair of my hubby’s dress pants and began spraying and stretching with wrinkle releaser.

Suddenly a funny story mom had told me came to mind. Since mom passed recently, it feels like a bittersweet gift 🎁 she’d sent me.

Back when I was grownup in the 1960s, my dad wore a suit and tie every day to work in his executive position. Women like my mom, and her mom who lived with us, often were full-time homemakers. They washed and ironed clothes daily. Some things were sent out to be dry-cleaned, but not all.

Well this day mom delegated the ironing to grandma. Having been widowed young and worked all the time, grandma hadn’t had occasion to press men’s dress pants before. But how hard could it be, right? Well she ironed them all the same, making them flat in front and pressed on the seams. But if you know about men’s suits, they need to be pressed with the seams together and a sharp fold down the front of the pant legs!

Dad got up the next day and tried on slacks after slacks. Instead of looking dashing and debonair ,

Like this:

He looked more like this:

He came downstairs yelling, “What have you done to me NOW?!”😱

Mom and grandma laughed so hard they were crying😂

1940s Songs & Rhymes—-many of which my parents taught me🥰

https://www.mamalisa.com/blog/old-sayings-and-rhymes-from-the-1940s/

And my contribution:

Love these! My parents said and sang many of them. (Mom just passed in August and was 101🙃). One rhyme she said a lot I haven’t seen here:


“1234567
All good children go to heaven
All the rest to go down below
To see the devil bite his toe😈.”