Tuesday, May 24, 2011
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| Mom, Little Brother and Sister Joplin, Mo 1952 |
Now Joplin is very much in the news, having endured the destruction of a major tornado, or as we used to call them, "twisters." Bro and I spent the night in a cellar on two occasions when a twister passed over Joplin; one of these did some damage to the town, but nothing like this new one. Much of the city is rubble and the death toll stands at 122, but is rising, according to news reports.
We lived in a little gray, stone house on South Pearl street. Bro went back to visit Joplin after a 50 year absence, and the current residents of our old house allowed him in to reminisce. I hope that little home is intact and its current owners are safe.
Here's a picture of our home with our mom, kid brother and little sister in 1952.
Related Posts: See the BlogProf's Harrowing 1st Person Video of the Joplin Tornado. He also has an AP video of the twister tearing up the landscape.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
I knew my mother-in-law for 37 years. I met her on the same night that I met my future wife. Two people, who didn't particularly like each other at first, grew to love each other in the years that followed. Sally didn't like this white guy who she was sure was out to seduce her daughter; and the white guy (me) didn't like this combative hen who was ready to scratch my eyes out for sniffing around her prize chick. I married her prize chick, without her permission, and then things began to improve.
When our baby boy came along, Sally was overwhelmed by the child's perfection (as perceived from a grandmother's eyes), and came to visit him every weekend. She just wanted to sit and stare at him. She said he was the most beautiful child she had ever seen. On his first birthday, Sally gave her grandson a big cake, without icing, placed on her coffee table where he could tear into it with his tiny hands, stuffing the pieces into his mouth. I loved that she did this. It made me realize that Sally and I were kindred spirits.
When two bloodlines mingle in a single child, it represents the juncture at which two families join together and become one. Nothing unifies two people like a common love for the same child, a child to whom both are related, me as the father, she as the grandmother. We became fast friends from that point on and loved each other like any natural relatives would. And Sally didn't object when almost all of her younger daughters married Americans, one by one, adding greatly to her supply of beautiful grandchildren, several of whom (the boys) were pall-bearers at her funeral, while others (the girls) sang.
November 20, 2010, the day of interment, was rain-soaked, blustery and cold. After the service, we followed the hearse to Oak Hill where Sally's body was placed in one of those wall tombs where many are laid to rest. Her spot was about half way up the wall, in the middle. I always wondered how they got coffins into those high spaces. They use a special lift, with places on either side for workmen to stand, and raise the coffin up to the open space where it is slid head-first, on rollers, into the space.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
My mother-in-law passed away early this morning. She had been in a hospice for over a year and knew she was going to die. In the last couple of weeks, she made a point of calling all of her relatives, including children still in the Philippines, to tell them goodbye and that she loved them. Many others came to see her in the hospice.
I spent time with her last week, sitting by her bedside and listening to her stories. She was a wonderful mother-in-law and a great friend too.
One day last week when I went to see her, she was trying to stand up, holding on to her walker. Since she was blind from inoperable cataracts, I announced my presence as I entered. She pointed to her left and asked me who the lady was standing nearby. I told her there was no one there. When Mrs. Chomper came in, she also asked her who the stranger was standing a few feet away. "Is that a statue?" she asked. My wife replied that there was no one there. How my mother-in-law could see anything, being blind, is rather strange. Still, she insisted that she perceived this person's presence.
It immediately occurred to me that my mother-in-law was having predeath visions, fairly common among the dying. My father had them too, a few weeks before his death in 1991. He kept asking who "those people" were, the ones standing over by the fireplace. No one else could see them, however.
I will really miss my mother-in-law. I loved her, and I told her so frequently in these past few final months of her life.
Monday, October 18, 2010
This picture was taken in the late days of World War II. It shows my father in his army uniform, my mom and my grouchy older brother "Bro." Hard to believe he was once that cute! I had not yet made my appearance into the world.
