Here’s some very early ones. The story of my naming. During my Mom’s first pregnancy, they made a trip to my Dad’s hometown of Erie, PA and visited his 8th grade teacher, Sister Mary Eleanora. They told her that they were hoping for a boy, but if they had a girl, they would name the baby after her. And Sr. Eleanora replied: “I’ll pray it’s a boy, but I hope it’s a girl!”
I was the youngest in my class when I started kindergarten at St. B.’s school. In those days, Catholic schools had 2 graduating classes a year - January and June. I was slated to stay in kindergarten another 6 months because I was so young. Dad (kiddingly?) remarked one night: “Tell your teacher to put you in 1st grade or else!” And of course, I told her what my Dad said. When I was promoted to 1st grade in January, I was convinced it was because of Dad’s “threat”.
Dad would wake me up early in the morning for fishing trips, carry me asleep to the car. It seemed like we drove hours to the lake, listening to 40’s music on the radio, songs that warm my heart to this day. I loved baking in the sun, sitting in the row boat, waiting for a nibble, and watching the dragon flies dance romantically on the tip of my rod. Or just be mesmerized by the sun reflected in the water’s ripples. Dad taught me to appreciate silence. And his greatest gift to us: a deep love of nature.
I was the youngest in my class when I started kindergarten at St. B.’s school. In those days, Catholic schools had 2 graduating classes a year - January and June. I was slated to stay in kindergarten another 6 months because I was so young. Dad (kiddingly?) remarked one night: “Tell your teacher to put you in 1st grade or else!” And of course, I told her what my Dad said. When I was promoted to 1st grade in January, I was convinced it was because of Dad’s “threat”.
Dad would wake me up early in the morning for fishing trips, carry me asleep to the car. It seemed like we drove hours to the lake, listening to 40’s music on the radio, songs that warm my heart to this day. I loved baking in the sun, sitting in the row boat, waiting for a nibble, and watching the dragon flies dance romantically on the tip of my rod. Or just be mesmerized by the sun reflected in the water’s ripples. Dad taught me to appreciate silence. And his greatest gift to us: a deep love of nature.
No comments:
Post a Comment