When the boys and I were growing up, Thanksgiving Week meant many things to us. Grass stains on the already stressed knees of our jeans, the anticipation of succulent turkey, hours of football with our dad (it may have been called "touch" football, but there was quite a lot of…
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All posts tagged My Family
Bike Memories
Last week, I went for my first bike ride since I was a student living in Davis. We borrowed my parents' bikes after work and went our for a quick spin. Jon and I buzzed down the street and flew past vineyards and cruised along under the clear blue sky.…
Remembering Grandma Jean
My mom's mom, my Grandma Jean, passed away before I was born. Taking from the scraps of memory and reminiscence and photos and memorabilia I've collected over the years, I know she was a bright, beautiful, sensitive, creative, troubled, clouded, precious soul. In the picture at left, she's bent at…
Splitting the Coconut
Jonathan took careful aim and leveled a firm blow with his hammer at the circumference of the hairy, brown coconut in his hand. The crack resounded in our kitchen and made Cindy and I giggle with wonder. Jon gave the coconut a quarter turn and whacked it again. This time,…
Memories of Jennie
Recently my family received an invitation to a surprise 40th birthday party for our old friend, Jennie Doering, a woman I knew when I was between the ages of ten and fourteen. As part of the invitation, guests were encouraged to submit stories and memories of Jennie from years gone…
In Memory of the Carpenter and his Wife
My Grandpa Pete's wife, Helen, passed away last weekend. Because my family lived in California, a cool 2,000 miles from our Campagna relatives in Moline, IL (Mom's side), I only met Helen a handful of times. She was a very petite lady with large-lensed glasses and curly auburn hair.…
"Tell me, Mr. Brown, what's wrong with folly?"
Sometimes I cling to my Girlhood like a life raft. I strap myself to it with Optimism and Enthusiasm and Naivete. It's a defense mechanism, admittedly, but one which I attempt to handle with adroit self-awareness... never allowing my passions to become mere single-minded pursuits, never letting my playfulness regress…
A Teeming Brain
Tonight, my grandmother is sleeping in a hospital bed in a retirement complex where she has lived for many years. She barely knows the names and faces of her children. Her memories have been scrambled so that she cannot tell yesterday from her wedding day. And every once in a…