Category: Memories
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Adulthood Rising
I have a hard time learning languages. Some people have an ability to pick up German, Portuguese, Farsi or Russian with ease. High School French was the first of my stumbling blocks. I used to “get sick” in the morning to avoid Mrs. Lowe’s first period freshman French class. I tried…I really tried…to understand the…
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The Little Boy And The Big Canoe: A Memory
[Not my brothers canoe. But you get the point. Source: Google Search] Canoes were always a part of my boyhood. Our family was definitely zero-octane. It’s all very logical given the fact that our property at 420 Front St., Owego, NY, my childhood home, happened to have the Susquehanna River in our backyard. And, we…
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A Gathering: A Farewell
The time for tears has come and gone. You passed from our lives a year ago. It’s sad Nance, that you won’t see your son on a hilltop be married to an amazing woman, Kristin. They moved back to Binghamton, the virus, and other events delayed a final gathering in your name until this day,…
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Reunion
[Source: Egan Family Archives.] I’m working on my family tree using Ancestry.com. As my son has said: “It’s addictive.” When my father passed away in 2004, there were boxes of old photographs. Many. of course, were unlabeled. My father would dig this photo out of wherever he stored it and name almost 75% of those…
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Too Old, Too Soon: Two Friends
“I want to go for a ride,” said the car that had a teal fender. “You can’t. You’re a mess. Your engine hasn’t run since the early sixties. A car also needs four wheels and you need three. Your ride isn’t going my friend. This is going to be where you will stay until someone…
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Shadows
Like the wallpaper sticks to the wall Like the seashore clings to the sea Like you’ll never get rid of your shadow You’ll never get rid of me –Al Jolson & Billy Rose Fast. Fast I ran, as fast as my little legs could carry me. I glanced over my shoulder. It was still behind…
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The Toboggan
It’s not really a wedding gift…it’s a gift for the future beyond that. When I was growing up in Owego, NY we had a garage that my father built using spare lumber he had accumulated since the late 1940’s. I cannot locate a proper photograph because I, more than likely, never took one. The whole…
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Coal For Christmas
[Watercolor sketch by Paul Egan. Date unknown.] [Note to my readers: If you think you’ve read this blog before, don’t think you’re getting senile. It’s perhaps the fourth or fifth time I’ve posted it. It’s my version of a pure Christmas Story. I’ve tweaked the story several times to try to make the narrative better, clearer and more truthful. As…
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The Bearded Man Beholds The Autumn
[Photo is mine.] He sits on the front deck of his home. Despite recent chilly weather, this particular Wednesday proved to be mild…even warm. He has spent the last half-hour watching a red squirrel scurry about a pile of chipped wood. Doubtless, this is to be his winter den. The bearded man is sitting…
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A Young Boy’s Walk
[Source: Google Search.] My first eight years of formal education was at St. Patrick’s School in Owego, NY. Many former students of many Catholic schools will complain about horrid nuns with rulers and black straps. I had no such issues with the Sisters of Mercy who ran our school. Most knew our parents personally. I…
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