I could not have asked to be born to better people in the world. You might not have been the best parents, but you were far, far, far from the worst. You did the best you could. I wasn’t an easy child to live with and train for the world, and for that I’m sorry.
Dad, you know how I feel. I wrote a letter to you telling you just how much I loved and admired you before you passed away. I know Grandpa didn’t understand why I didn’t return home to take care of you after Mom died. I’d like to think you understood, that you were proud I was serving my country, even after I left the Navy.
I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to walk me down the aisle. For years I felt the pain of never finding someone who loved me, but now it’s more a regret that you didn’t get to experience it. Maybe you were right. Maybe I was looking for someone “just like my old man” (as you put it). That person just doesn’t exist.
Mom, you had a heart of pure gold. You were the nicest, kindest person I ever met. I mentioned this once to Margie’s sister-in-law; she said Margie had said the same thing. (And you thought she didn’t approve of you!) You left a legacy of good works in our little town, often behind the scenes and without glory. When Dad died, a woman came up to me at the reception and said, “You had such wonderful parents.” And even though you’d been gone for several years, she added, “Including your mother.”
Thank you, NaBloPoMo for giving us our Daily Prompts. WordPress.com also has one, but it usually entails more thinking than I’m willing to do today. (Plus, I’m not crazy about today’s prompt: Tell us about a thing you’ll never write about. Um, no. Then I’d be writing about it, right?)
From NaBloPoMo: Are you interested in genealogy? Do you have a family tree constructed?
Short answer: No. And no.
Long answer: One of my father’s cousins was an genealogist. He even wrote a book about it, but it was in “geneolo-eze” and I had a horrible time understanding it. I’m not sure if I still have the book or threw it away. Hopefully the latter.
My Uncle Rod also wrote a book about my grandfather. (You may remember them both in word and picture from this post.) In it, I discovered I could join the DAR, as one of my ancestors loaned his rifle to the Continental Army and followed it into the American Revolution. I haven’t joined DAR. Perhaps I will if I feel they’ve sufficiently atoned for not allowing Marion Anderson to sing at Constitution Hall.
I’m not sure about my mother’s side of the family. I think her sister (Aunt Marceille, pictured above on the right) tried doing some research, but don’t know what became of it—or if she was even successful. I think her family also dates back a few centuries in America, as she was a member of the DAR. Or was she eligible by marriage? Does DAR allow Daughters-in-Law of the American Revolution? 😀
My grandfather was a wonderful story-teller. He always told of some incident from the past whenever the family gathered. Unfortunately, being a kid and teen-ager, I didn’t listen very well. I guess this means I need to do some research if I want to write a memoir of my parents. I can think of worse pastimes.