Category: Memories
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Good-bye Rosie
[Rosie. Photo is mine.] My mother passed away in her sleep on a quiet Easter Sunday morning in 1992. A sad event indeed. Just days before on Holy Thursday, she sat in the living room of our home and told the priest that she was tired and was prepared. She was ready. She also told…
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Sometimes Losing is Winning
[Friends Seminary. [Photo credit: Google Search.] I spent New Years Eve, 1990 alone in a bar in Binghamton.The only kiss I got was from the off-duty bartender who had started celebrating early. He kissed the top of my head and said: “I love you, man,” and then fell backwards onto a table. I was at…
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Sitting In Another Cemetery
[Me gazing at the soccer game. Photo credit: Mariam Voutsis] You, my readers, may think I’m a bit morose and morbid. My last post was about Evergreen Cemetery, in my home town of Owego, NY. But, if you think that I am very dark, you’re wrong. Yes, I have a strong nostalgic mind. But today…
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A Cemetery With a View
[The grave of Sa Sa Na Loft. Evergreen Cemetery, Owego, NY. Photo credit is my own.] I’m back in my home town of Owego, NY for a reason. I have no one to visit. Nothing to purchase (I did buy two books at River Row Book Store), but I was there on an early September…
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To Say Happy Words…and Sad
[Teri Bramlett} I’m preparing to travel back to my hometown, Owego, NY. I’m going to attend a memorial service for a long-time friend. It will be held at the Hickories Park. I hope it doesn’t rain. I hope my words are funny, complimentary, joyful …and sad. Because that is what you feel when when a…
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A Tale of Three Rings
[Antique wedding ring. Price? About $5600. European Cut. Source: Google search.] Eileen, a colleague of Mariam, wanted to meet us for a drink. We were in New York City for the usual doctors appointments, meetings and our yearly Yankee game. The three of us sat at the bar of Brendens Irish Pub on W. 35th…
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The No-Name Motel
[The motel with no name] Most of the time I can erect a fence to contain the images and imaginations from escaping my brain. Sometimes a little white picket fence with pink daisies in purple pots are enough to hold back the most innocent and decent imagery that my mind can create. Then, there are…
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A Sad Good-bye
[“Old Paint”. Now a part of history…ready for its final ride] The white Casier truck backed down our driveway. It was 10:30 on a muggy morning. Before ten minutes had passed, we had brand new chairs in our living room. The old L. L. Bean pair of overstuffed sofa-like seats were showing signs of aging.…
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Staring Down at 72
[A post card image from Inkognito.] As I write this post the weather here at Rainbow Lake is unsettled. Windy with thunder in the distance. I fell asleep in the screened-in porch last night listening to heavy rains falling. I’m staring at a calendar (The kitchen wall calendar…this year: Japanese prints). I see that I…
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My Friend Tim
[Left to right: Jo, Anna, Tim at the White Lion Inn on our last night in Dorset] It was August of 1984. I was about to begin a year in Dorset, England, when I first met Tim Ovenden. He was destined to be my house-mate in Wimborne Minster (actually a burb of Wimborne, Colehill). He…
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