The holiday sibling photograph and other traditions

Every year for as long as I can remember, my parents took an annual sibling photograph. This ordinarily occurred at Thanksgiving or Christmas. At first, it was just my brother and me. Eventually, there were three of us. Today, I'm the oldest of five children. It's never been an issue. Whoever is present for the sibling photograph must be in the sibling photograph. Last year, my brother had a miniature breakdown. He didn't want to take our sibling photo because we were only three of five. It was 2022. Our Dad passed away in 2012. Two of our sisters moved to Washington shortly afterward. It was my turn to have a mini breakdown. I reminded my brother just how long it had been - just the three of us. He reluctantly took the photograph. We used to see oneanother nearly every weekend. Now, I have a nephew I've never met. Our Dad was the glue that kept our traditions alive. I never want to lose our traditions. It's like losing the last remaining pieces we have left of our Dad. 

Random thoughts of a different time

When I was young, our extended family would caravan across the United States during the summer. My Dad always marked the route on a map for us to revisit later. We always wanted to stop at every Stuckey's we saw along the way. Pit stops are fun for children. Back then, there was no seat belt law. Everyone just piled in where they fit. My Dad drove a station wagon. I always sat in the very back. I've been to forty nine of fifty states. I'm only missing Alaska. I hope to see the northern lights one day. 

A frequent stop for us was Niagara Falls. One of my most vivid memories is running beneath the falls with my brother and Dad. I remember Bedrock (Flintstones theme Park) in South Dakota. We have some cool photographs. Every time I have chocolate, I remember Hershey Pennsylvania. We've been to all the major tourist attractions. I remember my brother and I having strong "no" feelings about that elevator in the Empire State Building. Dad bribed us as usual. Funny thing, we didn't like elevators but would run stairs and didn't have a problem with heights. If it was a theme park, we've been there. If it was unusual, we've definitely been there. When we visited the painted desert and Grand Canyon, we heard about and visited this really cool underground cave with ufo cave paintings. 

I have strong memories of visiting relatives in California. I remember walking along the boardwalk. I have this vivid recollection of my Dad laughing maniacally because we drove down Lombard Street in a van. There was a sign that clearly said, "no vans". We mentioned it as we passed it. He said, "Oh well. Too late now." Sometimes, I still dream of the beach. Our family stayed at Venice Beach often. I can still smell the air sometimes. 

I remember the Parthenon in Nashville. I remember Beagle Street in Memphis. I remember Louisiana. I remember the World's Fair in Tennessee. Some of my favorite locations (off the top of my head) are still the Mirage in Vegas, Colorado in general, Universal Studios, and Cape Canaveral. I could keep going; but, we'd be here a long time. We still travel, just not as far or for as long. I can honestly say I miss it. It's nice to just get away.

Strawberries

There was an elderly couple that lived across the street from my parent's first home. They noticed my brother and me playing in the yard. They invited us to pick strawberries. When we visited their home, they had no backyard as you'd think of a backyard. Their entire backyard was one big strawberry patch. They were kind. They invited us to pick berries every season. My Mom made strawberry smoothies and ice cream. It's one of my earliest happy memories of my hometown. I suppose it's why I crave berry smoothies when I feel sad. It's my connection to a happier time.

Priorities

I was talking to a friend about security challenge questions. One of them was, "best friend in first grade". She said, "what the heck! How am I supposed to remember that? Do you remember yours?" I chuckled and told her to pick a name she liked and would remember, an imaginary friend. It's safer that way. Thankfully, she laughed it off. If I'm being honest, I do remember.

I didn't attend kindergarten. I tested out and skipped it.

First grade: Dawn

Second grade: I was out ill most of the year but probably Pete

Third grade: Francis

Fourth and Fifth grade: Michelle 

Sixth grade: Jane

Seventh grade: Rebecca 

Eighth grade: Sean

Ninth Grade: Glenda

Tenth Grade: Tammy

Eleventh grade: Todd

Twelth grade: Matt

In college I had a very small circle of friends. My best friend through college, if you don't include my brother was Alf.

First Job out of college was college professor. My best friend was an intern who's still one of my best friends today: Chris.

Next career change, The Franklin but hired by AIG. Best friend at work was Mikki.

Next career change, The Federal Reserve Bank. Best friend at work... Okay, you got me. It's very strongly Jeff. However, it could be Marge, Joe, John,... This was my home.

Next career change, I'm not certain how to label it so bear with me. Best friend, I'm going to say Jodi. I have a lot of friends. However, Jodi and I talk extensively about non work related things.

Best friend as an adult: if you don't take into account my family members of which there are many, I can name several but don't want to leave anyone out. If I had to name one or a few, I'd go with Stacey, Franky, and Chris.

It's not that you can't remember. It's that you unconsciously prioritize what you remember. That's why if you ask me the day and date, it might take me a minute.

Oh and if you require someone to hate on about those obnoxious security questions, I used to help write those. 

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It's never too late

I was married once. It didn't end well. However, we've always maintained friendly terms with his family. I still think fondly of them. One of the things I remember well is talking with his father. He once told me he was proud of me for graduating high school with honors. I was college bound. I didn't think anything about it at the time. Later, he explained he never graduated high school. He told me he and his wife eloped in a different state when she became pregnant. She lost the child; but, he stayed. I found that admirable. He worked until he was old enough to join the military. He served overseas. They were stationed in Germany. Upon returning, he had tradeskills that allowed him to become a lineman for the telephone company. He worked his way up from there. Along the line, they had their only living child, their son. He was pensive. A while later, he informed me he was attending night school for his high school diploma. After all those years, he really wanted his diploma. He did it. He graduated. It was my turn to say I was proud of him. It's never too late to attain the things you really want in life.

Gato

When we were young, we used to live with our grandmother. I remember my cousin Jojo asking all the little children if we wanted to meet his pet. He told us he had a kitten. That was a silly question. Of course, we wanted to meet his kitten. It was small and black with blue eyes and fluffy fur. We asked him what he named it. He said, "Gato". My cousin Gene snort-laughed but covered it with a coughing fit. Apparently no one noticed except me. I raised an eyebrow at him.

Later, I asked Gene if he laughed because Jojo named his baby kitty, "cat". Gene raised his eyebrow at me and asked who taught me Spanish. I shrugged my shoulders. I said, "I don't speak Spanish". Gene nodded then explained that Gato meant Cat in Spanish. Yes, he did find it funny. He said Jojo was so weird. He could've at least come up with a more creative name. I thought about it for a moment then replied, like Noire, Salem, or Midnight? Gene laughed. He said, let me guess. You don't speak French? I replied, like fries? He said, no like the language but that answers my question. 

He asked me why I chose Noire. I said it's because of the color of the kitty. He said right, in French. I just stared at him. He said, "okay then". Then he explained Noire meant black in French. I nodded my head. He guessed I picked Salem because of a certain television cat and Midnight because it's dark outside like the kitty's fur. I responded he was half right. Salem and Midnight were both black television cats. 

Over several weeks, all the little children grew fond of playing with Gato. I was always examining that poor little kitten closely. My cousin Odie noticed and asked me why. I explained the kitty's eye color, size, beans, ear shape, and fur texture keep changing. I told him, I didn't think it was the same kitty. It was an innocent observation. I was by nature very curious. Odie, Gene, and Lando went out to investigate. Apparently, the garage where we kept the boat was filled with cats and kittens as was a barn in the field behind my Grandmother's home. They were all named "Gato" because he couldn't tell them apart.

The interesting thing was they were all black cats except for a basically black siamese cat. It was shy and didn't come near people often. Out of the blue, it started hanging out with the other cats and people. It made its home in the garage. It became a family favorite friend. Then it disappeared. My Dad and Uncles looked for it. They found it beneath the boat cover. My Dad speculated that it knew it was dying and not having long to live, it no longer wanted to be alone. I suppose people are a lot like cats in this way.

The Lettermen

Five letter girls said, "we love you" Baby, Dell, Vangie, Boots, and Rocel too. And the three Lettermen who we love and adore, they always give us back our love and more!

This is a song my Auntie and cousins made up and sang while they got ready for Lettermen concerts. I remember they recorded and sent it before a concert in Evansville. I may have saved a copy of this recording. I enjoyed being the little tag-a-long. 

I was just a child. However, I loved hotel amenities. This is likely where my children get this characteristic. I also, loved music and concerts. I have an old lockbox someplace. One of my most prized possessions is a card that appears to be handmade. I was having brunch with my Auntie before a concert. One of the band members, Tony hand delivered my birthday card really early. It was my birthmonth but my birthday was at the end of it. 

What made it memorable was that I didn't even think they noticed I was there. For a member of their band to hand deliver a birthday card to a small child is something I can't put into words. It goes beyond being kind. For me, it embodies what it means to truly be seen as someone special. That's why I keep the card.

Writing on Frosted Glass

When I think of my cousin Gene, I'm filled with memories. However, the first thing that comes to mind is writing on a frosted glass window in the winter. The window in question was at our Grandmother's home. It had an enclosed terrace where she kept hanging plants year-round. In the winter, the windows would frost over. As children we'd draw and write on them. I vividly recall my cousin Gene writing the word Generosa. I was very young. He asked me if I could read it. I said "yes" and read it to him. He asked me if I knew who that was and I shook my head no. He smiled. He picked me up. He said "it's me!" When you're a child, there's a big difference between Gene and Generosa. Of course, I laughed and didn't believe him.

The cousins were easily grouped by age. Gene and Odie were older cousins. Joey and I were younger cousins. Essentially the older cousins looked after the younger ones. I remember one year Joey was being bullied at school, badly. Our Auntie used to keep a little sword shaped letter opener on her desk. One day, Gene took it to scare the bully. It worked a little too well. He showed up at the house with his dad demanding to see the parent or guardian of "the boy that pulled a knife on his son". Our Auntie was furious at first. She yelled for Gene. We weren't going to let him go out there alone. He was smiling and didn't care. The bully's father was pointing his finger and yelling at him. Gene very quietly replied in detail that he only wanted to scare him because of what he'd been doing to Joey - and he listed the infractions. The red faced man said it was no reason to pull a knife on his son. Gene smiled and replied, "you mean this?" and produced the letter opener. The bully started screaming "that's it! That's the knife!" not realizing it wasn't a knife at all. My Auntie grabbed it by the blade and said "how many times have I told you not to take my things without asking?" She apologized to the bully and his dad with a shrug and said "it's just a letter opener." The bully's dad dragged him away by his collar. We all went back inside. Gene got in trouble but not for the reasons you'd think. Our Auntie was proud of him for taking care of Joey. 

Gene was proactive. He got a black belt in karate. He taught pretty much everyone self defense. He always told us it was never good to start a fight. However, if you found yourself in a situation, it was better to know how to fight than to be on the losing end of a battle. I've never forgotten those words.

Gene had a difficult time growing up. He'll hate me for saying it. However, one might say, "he ran away to the marine corps." I remember how angry his parents were at the time. I remember my Dad telling my Uncle Navaro, "we really have no room to talk." My Uncle knew this but every parent wants their children to have things better than they did. I remember Gene's first call home. He called my Auntie's house. My cousins and I are menaces. I answered. I heard, "collect call from Generosa DeGala will you accept the charges?" Of course me being me, yelled "hey! Do we know a Generosa DeGala?" My cousins being my cousins, all went with variations of "hmm Generosa Generosa can't place it". Our Auntie screamed, "don't hang up! Accept the charges! It's Gene!" Except for that whole tour in Lebanon thing... the Marine Corps was good for him. He stayed with our Auntie after he got out. He took a job surveying roads. We loved it when he'd bring home random things from roadside stands and farms. I remember some particularly delicious watermelon but that's a tale for another day.

I saw him at our cousin Odie's funeral. He looked at me and said, "are you okay? You were close right?" It made me a little sad. Yes, Gene. Odie and I were close. So were you and I. We were all close at one point in time. I suppose I'm a little sad that he doesn't seem to remember.

My Grandmother taught me to

This is something we used to laugh about when it was a thing to ask about your family life in school. My cousins used to shudder. The struggle was real. The question was, "what did your Grandmother teach you? or what did you learn from your Grandmother?" Typical responses were things like knitting, crochet, sewing, cross stitch, baking cookies or biscuits. I know my cousins came up with something that wouldn't get a parent or guardian called to the school. However, their candid responses were, "how to play blackjack, poker, and keno". We travel with our Grandmother (Mama, My Dad's Mom). We learned etiquette and how to behave at high social functions. We learned appropriate behavior at horse and car races. We had a somewhat different upbringing from typical children. 

These days I tell people my Grandmother taught me the difference between living and existing.

When I feel like dancing

You'll get tired of reading it. Art, music and dance was important on my Dad's side of the family. Academics, mathematics and science were important on my Mom's side of the family. Yes. We were all formerly educated. Sometimes it just doesn't feel like enough. I remember asking my cousin Odie for help with dance. I really should've waited until he was through with competition season. He gets in this zone. It's difficult to explain. I do recall him finding my focus lacking. He thought since I just wasn't in his words "becoming the music", perhaps it'd help me to have an external focal point. 

The first time we tried this "find your focus" experiment. He was teaching me to spin the rifle. He tossed it a little high. He punctured the ceiling. We hid it for months until he could fix it. On another occasion, he thought it might help if I saw old photographs and film reels of my Dad. My Dad and Auntie Nilda were national dance champions in their youth. He was in my Auntie's attic under the ruse of finding Christmas decorations when he fell through the ceiling in the living room. The funny thing was our Grandmother had the photographs and reels. 

He wasn't wrong about dance being a feeling. Some people can be inspired to move with the melody. Others really just have to feel it first. When you watch a crowd or a performance, you can tell who's there to be there and who's there because they love it. He always loved what he did. That's why people gravitated towards him. That's why his enthusiasm was infectious. He didn't just teach me how to be a better dancer, he taught me life is short. He taught me it isn't worth doing if it makes me miserable. He taught me to pursue the things I enjoy and love. He also taught me that happiness is best shared.