Memories of Past and Future

Today is the anniversary of my grandmothers death.  She died March 4th 2004 at the age of 100.  Tomorrow I will visit her grave, a ritual I do whenever I am in South Florida.  She is buried next to my grandfather, whom I never knew.  My grandfather died five years before I was born of a massive heart attack.  
Continue reading

Tell me something wonderful!

My aunt and grandmotherOne of my earliest memories of my aunt was when I was three or four years old. She would tell me stories about a fairy named Matilda that lived in a thimble under her bed. She would talk in a high child like voice as she explained that she would feed Matilda strawberries and cream every morning and they would drink tea from little tiny tea cups and have all kinds of adventures. I believed these stories and thought they were wonderful.  Every night before I went to bed I began to imagine stories about Matilda and later my own stories about a fairy kingdom that I, along with Mr. Dog, my beloved stuffed animal, ruled over.  My own imaginary world, which helped me to fall asleep every night as a child, began with my aunt’s Matilda stories.  Continue reading

Wait Till I Get My Hat

I have never met anyone quite like my grandmother, or Gram, as we used to call her. One of my earliest memories of her is of the two of us walking down the street in Philadelphia when I was five or six years old. She was a fast walker and I had trouble keeping up. ‘Grab a wing, chicken,” she said, as she extended her arm to me and I hooked my little arm through hers. She loved that phrase, grab a wing chicken, and would laugh at herself every time she said it. Continue reading