Memories of Dad

Thirty-two years ago, my father passed away on a cold day in March, and I still miss him. On this Father’s Day, I’d like to share some memories of him.

With my Dad when I was just a wee one! In New Brunswick, New Jersey.

My father, George, was thirteen years older than my mother and so came from a different generation. He was born in Providence, Rhode Island, back when Model-T’s shared the streets with horses and everybody knew their neighbor. His father (James) owned a butcher shop and had English roots in New England dating back to Colonial times. His mother (Madeline) was the daughter of Irish and Portuguese immigrants. (Sadly, my siblings and I never met our paternal grandparents, Madeline and James. Both died within three month of each other, long before we were born).  Aunt Agnes (my father’s younger sister) would tell us that their mother called George “the salt of the earth.” I like that! And as far as I’m concerned, my Dad was “the salt of the earth.”

The middle one of three children, Dad had wonderful memories of his childhood. He enjoyed playing baseball, had a paper route, and relished the times he would go down to the Providence River, clam-digging with his older brother, Bill (Dad made a mean clam chowder!). He loved movies and would save the money he made from his paper route to go to Saturday afternoon picture shows. He remembered when silent films became talkies, and was a fan of Mary Pickford and Charlie Chaplin. Because he was older than our playmates’ fathers, he had stories from a different era and his stories were captivating. His family home in Providence was across the street from where the acclaimed songwriter and entertainer, George M. Cohan, once lived. (George M. Cohan was famous for such early 20^th-century songs as “You’re a Grand Old Flag,” “Over There,” “I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy,” and “Give My Regards to Broadway.”) Now you get the picture of my father’s childhood. 

Dad when he was young (by car, hat in hand) with his parents and sister.
Providence, Rhode Island.

My father grew up in the Depression, served in the Rhode Island National Guard and later served in World War II. He met my mother, Carmela, in New Jersey, right after the war when my mother's brother, Uncle Ernie, who was serving with my father in the Army, arranged a date for them. My father was more than a decade older than my mother and he said it was love at first sight when he met her. He wrote beautiful love letters to her. He even recorded a love song for her at one of those music booths at the shore when they honeymooned in Atlantic City. He had no idea of my mother's bipolar illness (her family was not about to tell him and they were in denial themselves, as it turns out); he had no idea of what was later to come. The marriage vows of "for better or worse" were vows he took very seriously, and he never once abandoned my mother, even in her most difficult hours when she was rejecting him for others, and refusing to take her medications. About two and a half years after giving birth to my youngest brother, my mother was hospitalized for a nervous breakdown, my siblings and I were sent to an orphanage and foster care. Our family life was fractured, never to be whole again. The series of events broke my father's heart. But that story is for another time. This story is to celebrate Dad's life.

Mom and Dad (before I was a twinkle in their eyes).

Five years after they were married, my parents had me, then my three sisters and two younger brothers. Dad loved having a family. I learned to read at an early age because he read picture books to us every night. By the time I got to first grade, because of all that reading, I was already at third grade reading level. Story time at night was one of my best memories! That along with all the Irish lullabies he would sing to us in his baritone voice, the same tunes his mother sang to him when he was a child. If I close my eyes, I can still hear him sing, “Tura-Lura-Lura.”

And so I’ll close this post with “That’s an Irish Lullaby” for my Dad. Hope you’ll listen, it’s a lovely song. Happy Father’s Day!

All text and photos ©2012 JerseyLil’s 2 Cents.