Showing posts with label Family Album. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family Album. Show all posts

Thursday, December 29, 2016

Bus Trip to Nana's and Pepe's

While having lunch with Nana and Pepe today, Nan reminded me of a memory I had not thought of in quite a while. It's a memory that is a bit fuzzy (which concerns me because I seem to have forgotten some events from the past much too frequently as of late). I believe the year must have been circa 1993 as, Jay, you must have been at least 2 years-old. It would have been the Christmas your dad was away  in Korea for a year...I think? We, Al and Jay, traveled by bus from South Carolina to Maine to spend the holiday with Nan and Pep. As I write this, I think about what a long trip it was--through the night--and how nervous I was the entire time. The buses were not entirely clean and they were crowded. I cannot believe I traveled so far for so long with two very small girls! Was I nuts? I remember what good girls you were--very obedient and very quiet. You each had a backpack filled with fun things to do and your favorite snacks. Nan and Pep picked us up at the bus station in Lewiston...so thrilled to have their granddaughters and daughter home. I wonder if you remember the trip? You both slept in my girlhood bedroom upstairs, while I slept across the hall in my brother's old bedroom. Nan and Pep had a small black dog named Toby, whom you fell in love with and played with tirelessly. On Christmas eve, dressed in identical nighties, the two of you opened one present each, just as I had when I was a girl--a Christmas Eve tradition. The next morning, you were thrilled with the Little Tykes kitchen set "Santa" left for you, although we could not find a way to ship it back to Maine. I returned it before we began our trip back to South Carolina.

I'm hoping, girls, you are able to fill in some blanks...

Love,
~Mama

Monday, September 16, 2013

The Christmas Candle

Seeing images of Jerusalem while watching a movie last night reminded me of a special candle my father used to light every Christmas Eve. Here is the account Pepe gave me over the phone today of how he obtained the candle.

In 1965 (before Nana and Pepe adopted me!), Pepe was stationed aboard ship in Sigonella, Sicily (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naval_Air_Station_Sigonella). He learned of an opportunity to take a flight to Rome and he jumped at the chance. While in Rome, he attended Catholic mass in the Vatican lead by Pope Paul XI. When I asked him how close he was to the Pope, he replied, "Well, it was just like attending church here...in a regular church. I was that close. As they carried Pope Paul down the aisle after mass, I tried to reach out to touch him, but I wasn't able to. Everyone was trying to touch his cloak."

Pepe then took a bus tour of Israel and Jerusalem. During his visit to Bethlehem, he visited the Church of the Nativity, the oldest operating church in the world. It is built over the place Jesus was born. Check these links out to see more--it is truly beautiful:


Pepe then marveled at the black-cloaked priest praying and worshiping at the Wailing Wall, all that is left of the original temple. He laughed as he described the priest bowing and praying in unison..."Such a funny and peculiar sight to behold," he said. Learn more about and see images of the Wailing Wall:  http://www.levitt.com/slideshow/s01p05.html

Perhaps Pepe's most profound experience was walking the Stations of the Cross--the actual path Jesus walked on his way to crucifixion and burial. This site explains more about the steps Catholics reflect on when contemplating the death of Jesus: http://onlineministries.creighton.edu/CollaborativeMinistry/stations.html It was at the tomb where Jesus was buried that Pepe purchased a candle. He lit this candle every Christmas eve for just for a few moments at a time and he would tell my Uncle Craig and I how he obtained the candle.  He would remind us why we celebrate Christmas. It made each Christmas eve so special and so relevent. Today he told me the candle had special prayers and blessings associated with it, and when lit every year it was as if you were at the tomb where Jesus was laid to rest. I remember the candle being roughly a foot long, the circumference of a carrot, and white.

Your Pepe is a deeply devoted Catholic...I am so happy I was able to help him recall such a special day in his life! I am also happy I am able to share a little nugget of specialness about your grandfather!

Love you!
~Mama






Sunday, March 25, 2012

Uncle Sylvio

I have few memories (none that I can recall at the moment, anyway) of my mother's uncle before I was five-years-old, when my dad moved Mom, Craig, and I from Maine to the west coast as a result of Naval re-stationing. Mom tells me Uncle Sylvio and Aunt Lucille visited us in Brunswick (Brunswick Naval Air Station) quite often (they lived in Waterville). My real memories of Uncle began once my dad retired and we moved back to Maine. I was fifteen-years-old at the time. Uncle Sylvio was my grandfather's brother. Here are some wonderful memories I have of him. Though they are few, he left an indelible "Uncle loves Laurie" etched on my heart.

A Beautiful Man

First, I must describe Great-Uncle Sylvio : He was just a little guy--maybe just over five feet tall? He had a head of soft white hair (that was flaming red back in the day), neatly combed, but in later years, sometimes just a bit wilder. He wore large glasses--it was the 80's, of course, and he ALWAYS, I mean always wore a smile! He had the same mischievous twinkle in his eye my granddad had. I loved it! He was always impeccably dressed (though in the house, he wore the cutest slippers). He and Auntie were the most beautiful, most well-matched couple you can imagine. It was if they were ready for an adventure at a moment's call--and what an adventurous couple they were! Mom has told me on many an occasion Auntie and Uncle would get in their car and just drive. Sometimes they would seek out diners, which they loved to try, and sometimes they would seek out churches; Uncle had a fascination with church steeples, I am told.

A Talented Builder

Uncle had a love and a talent for building mini-structures in his basement. He crafted a whole small town complete with a church, a post office, houses, a school, and a general store. He used scrap wood and his own hands, small tools, and lots of glue to lovingly piece each addition together. When we visited, he would not hesitate to invite me down to his cellar to show me his newest creation. He would lift the roof and watch my face as I exclaimed in surprise at the tiny details and furnishings...little beds covered with blankets, little chairs and desks, mail in the mail slots! There were animals, too. Any detail a life-sized structure might house was found in replication in his creations. I sometimes wished The Littles from The Borrowers were real. Oh, how special they would feel to live in such lavish furnishings! When Uncle went to Heaven in 1989, Auntie displayed his town in her livingroom for all to enjoy. Her love for him was so great, she remained faithful to him until 2011, when she joined him in paradise.

A Thoughtful Giver

One Christmas, Uncle made small, green, palm-of-your-hand-sized wooden sleighs for Craig and I and slipped a sliver dollar inside a little trap door on the underneath. The lure of the candy (?) store made me sneak the coin out and spend it not long after. How I wish I had not ruined the integrity of his gift. I would give just about anything to have it as a keepsake now.

When I was a freshman in college, I came home to visit and went with Mom and Dad to Waterville to Auntie and Uncle's house. Uncle chopped down a small pine tree from his backyard, no taller than three feet, brought it down to his basement, and shellacked the dickens out of it so it would remain "alive." I took it back to my dorm room at the University of Southern Maine, where my roommate and I stuck it into a bucket of sand and hung Christmas ornaments on it. It was our Charlie Brown Tree. No one else I knew had a Christmas tree in their room--Uncle's idea.

Just about every time we visited Waterville to see my grandparents--which was at least twice a month while I was in high school, we stopped at Auntie and Uncle's house before heading back home. There they would be, waiting just outside their front door with Lady, their dog, with "Hi Dear's," warm hugs, and broad smiles--and an invitation to visit the basement.

Though my most vivid memories of Uncle only span eight to nine years, I've love him my entire life. Uncle was one-of-a-kind. Never give away those precious, homemade gifts you receive from your loved ones, babies. They are more precious than anything--as is the love they etch on your heart.

Love,
~Mama