To me this is a weekend to reflect back on the family we have lost (Especially
close family). My mother goes around to each of the graves and puts flowers on the graves… which is comforting to her – knowing that there is one day out of the year that the graves are decorated. For me this is more a long holiday where at some point I reflect on the family I have lost. My close family are in my memories every day, so it’s hard to say that one day is any more special than others.
Memories of my grandmother come to me when I sew, when something special happens in the boys lives (especially Kristopher), even certain foods I make. I miss her all the time! Big things like the fact that she never met Konnor or little things like that she will never make him a sock monkey…. this next weekend and that she will miss Kris’ graduation.
A barbie wedding outfit my grandmother made that I have displayed in a shadow box.
My grandmother was wonderful at sewing, I really wish I had taken the time to listen when she had tried to teach me…. and let on more that I was listening. She explained grainline, I don’t know how many times. I’ve since looked it up to refresh my memory, but I remember her trying to explain it – and my ‘Why does it matter?’ As for the sock monkeys, I’ll never forget her story of taking them to my cousins in Texas and her luggage getting lost. – “Is there anything unique in your luggage that will help identify it?” – “Yes, There are three monkeys in my suitcase”.
She survived two husbands and all her brothers and sisters, and was still in her right mind when we lost her. Just one day she was here, and the next she wasn’t. She did everything from own a bar to teach kindergarten and was the only one of her siblings to go to high school. Yes, I think she was pretty amazing. My grandfather drown when my mother was about 3 and my grandmother had left her job as a teacher to marry him. So she was forced to move back home with my great grandmother.
My mother tells the story of my grandmother meeting my second grandfather. He saw her waiting bar at the bar she had bought…. and he told my Uncle Ervin he was going to marry her. She told him ‘Like Hell you Will!”. She said she was married to one drunk and she wasn’t going to do it again. My grandfather Wakeland then cleaned up his act and she married him. (By cleaned up I mean not around her, there was a story about my grandmother trying to bean him with a marble ashtray when he came home drunk once). I also remember something about a footrace but that story I don’t remember clearly.
I would say that I miss my grandmother the most each day, but on days when I reflect back I miss my close aunts and uncles too. Most of my other grandparents were gone before I was born other than my grandfather Richter and he died when I was younger making my memories of him much slimmer.
One of the notes my grandmother had written was about how close a family the Morettos were. It’s funny that now that side of the family never seems to get together. This month we lost my godmother, Jane Ann. Her brother Bernie was my godfather and had passed away many years ago. She was brought home for the graveside service. She was an amazing woman! A few family members did make it to the service, but it’s surprising how scattered the family has become – and how little we see each other. Everyone had to be introduced to each other and in many cases either hadn’t seen each other in years or had never met.
Jane Ann was a nurse in the uniformed service and had pioneered programs to help save limbs in diabetics. She also had helped direct hospital programs for lepers. It’s pretty amazing all the things she did during her many years of service. She also though is remembered for almost losing her leg in a motorcycle wreck!
I remember each of the times we visited her and I remember each of the things she gifted me. Each one was special to me – everything from the cross engraved pens to the dual alarm clock and even the rosary made from pressed roses. For our wedding she brought us a waterford crystal container and I still remember her talking about having to unwrap it for airport security (before 9/11) – The lead in the container won’t allow it to be xrayed.
She even came with her best friend Celeste to visit us at our current house. I remember when they arrived (getting lost on the way) – they called for directions. I had no clue where they were! We had just moved here. They finally made it to the school and went to grandparents day with my Kevin and Kristopher. Kris introduced Jane Ann as his other grandma from Florida. Then that evening we all headed out to eat at an Italian restaurant here in town. Kevin was upset that someone was smoking and my mother asked them to stop since Kevin was having trouble breathing with the smother. Afterwards the person said he totally understood since he had asthma. I think that was the topic of conversation for the next hour.
I’d love to see more of my family both the Richter side and the Moretto (and McArdle) sides. It would even be great to see more of the Andrew side. I wish there was a way for people to get together for more than just funerals.
It’s funny the things that make you smile from your childhood (this time I’m talking about food). A few of mine revolve around memories of my grandparents. I was recently reminded of my grandfather Richter when I bought a package of Little Debbie Oatmeal cookies. The little Debbie Sandwich cookies that I love and also the crust off of Chicken Pot Pies are two of my favorite things that remind me of him. The final thing is the Concord Grapes (white) that grew out front of his house. – The grapes are pretty impossible to find in seedless. I’ve found them once and savored them. I rarely have pot pies, and almost never by the cookies – but when I do it’s a really special event. Grandpa Richter passed away when I wasn’t even a teenager yet so there aren’t that many memories, but I do remember him sitting at his kitchen table giving me his pot pie crust from those Banquet Chicken Pot Pies. At the time I was such a picky eater that’s all I would eat of the pot pie – and forget the crust that had touched the gooie stuff. 🙂 I do remember cookouts at the pond, but food isn’t what sticks out in my mind from those.
I also can’t pass up Turtles when I get the chance, but they are a memory of my Grandmother Wakeland. She would get Turtles for each of the grandkids each Christmas. I think it started back when the schools would sell Katheryn Brach products as fundraisers. She would buy a tin each year (so would my mother) and we would eat one every few days. I think it’s now a different brand, but my mother has taken on the tradition of getting my brother and I a box of Turtles at each Christmas. I think my kids just view it as a Christmas tradition, but for me it’s a memory of childhood.
I also remember my father making fudge. I’ve never found a similar fudge and my dad doesn’t make it anymore. I think it was the only thing he made and it was a special treat when he made it. It involved him mixing together a mishmash of sugar and ingredients (none of which were measured) and then heating them. He would get a cup of water and drop a little in every so often, until some magic time when it balled in the water. Then he would pour it out on the wax paper. We would cut pieces every so often and have a small treat. (We also got Chocolate bars that would sit on the counter and cut off small pieces every so often as a treat) I’m not that big on Chocolate, but if I ever find that type of fudge (or a recipe) I’m going to make it for my kids. I keep thinking one day I’ll convince my dad to make it for me one more time (and I’ll pay attention this time to the recipe).
Not all my memories from childhood revolve around food, but there are some foods that trigger great memories!
Part of the way I went about finding family still in Italy originally (before facebook) was to write letters to everyone with the same last name. It’s a really small town, so it wasn’t too difficult. I included a Self Addressed Stamped Envelope to make it easier. I sent the letter in Italian – not knowing if they would speak English. Of course I don’t speak Italian, so Google Translate came in very handy.
I sent:
Ciao,
Il mio nome e’ Karla Andrew. Abito a Bowling Green, Kentucky STATI UNITI. Mio bisnonne si chiamavano Caterina Maria Negi, e’ nato a Locana ed emigrato negli Stati Uniti nel 1905. Vorrei mettermi in contatto con qualche mio parente ancora residente a Locana.
Non saprei dire se sono imparentato con qualcuno che port ail cognomen Negri residente a Locana. Mi rivolgo a chiunque porti il cognomen Negri ed abbia lo stesso nome di battesimo di mio bisnonne. Mio bisnonne e’ nato il 17 Nov 1874.
Qualora Lei ritenga che possiamo essere imparentati, Le sarei grato se vorra rispondere a questa lettera. Nel caso, invece, che fosse dell’avviso che non fossimo imparentati ma dovesse conoscere qualcuno che si chiama Negri che possa essere imparentato con me Le sarei grato se vorra’ consegnare questa lettera a quella persona.
Voglia gradire I miei sinceri saluti.
I included a list of people and dates that I did know at the bottom. I was excited to receive a couple responses! Of course they weren’t in english though, so one of the things I learned is that translating script in another language is really tough.
I’m sure this came from Karin also. It’s a telegram from the early 1900s showing the death of Collins McArdle in TonganoxieKansas. It says he died ‘this PM.’ and I’d swear it says ‘Come Answer’ It’s signed Henry Gieb. Reading documents like this is never easy. As time goes on they have yellowed or darkened with age making them difficult to ready.
Looking at my records Henry Geib was the husband of Lulu McArdle – Henry Geib was the son in law to Collins McArdle and Collins is listed as passing away in 1909 matching up with the telegram. I have been trying to figure out the to on the telegram though. It looks like it’s a Clarinda Keltner – I did find a Claude Keltner so that most likely is the person. Claude is the husband to Jennie Mae McArdle (also a daughter of Collins McArdle). Jennie Mae moved from Kansas to Oklahoma.
From all this I think this telegram was the method that one daughter (and Son in law) used to tell the other that their father had passed away….
