MARCH HAPPINESS

Most people are familiar with the term March Madness and all its basketball implications. For the first round of this year’s March Madness tournament Jerry and I were at the top of the leader board in a pool run by our nephew Peter. We fully realized that all our basketball happiness could change in a minute if our picks didn’t continue to win and such was the case when the University of Maryland – the team that we picked to win the championship , Jerry’s alma mater – lost. Now I want to focus on a different kind of happiness.

March has always been a special month for me. Growing up on Long Island, New York in a four weather season climate, March was a favorite month as it ushered in the warmth of Spring and gave a hint of the flowering trees and plants to come. March weather can have the roar of lion or the calm of a lamb.

Last Thursday was a lamb kind of day – absolutely beautiful, the kind of the day you want to spend outdoors. Jerry and I golfed. It is a blessing that we have this fun activity that we enjoy doing together. When we were younger marrieds I also golfed with a Ladies group and Jerry had a regular Men’s group. Now sometimes we are joined by family members or if we are golfing at our own club, other members will join us. Since we golf two to three times a week we may hold the distinction of being the oldest active golfers in our club. This is a kind of strange distinction that we are still trying to process.

March happenings that have led to March Happiness: In January 1955 when I graduated from high school my academic plan was college to be followed by law school. That was the educational path of my mother and her identical twin sister and it seemed like a good one to me.

March 4 to March 13 is the time of the Novena of Grace to St Francis Xavier. This was always a very powerful prayer time for my mother. I was saying this novena that I make the right career decisions and also attending mass as part of the novena. In March 1955 One day, during that novena period, I was on a crowded subway going into Marymount College. Since I couldn’t get a seat and perhaps do some extra reading for class, I started reading the subway ads to help pass the time. The ad that I kept coming back to was by the American Red Cross promoting their Home Nursing classes. I was intrigued and decided that was a class I would follow up on after law school graduation and passing the bar exam. Pretty soon my thoughts had evolved to wondering how much thought had actually gone into my law school decision. Should I rethink that decision. Within a matter of days and with some research, my thoughts turned to the BSN nursing program at Cornell- New York hospital. Sixty college credits were required for admission to that program. I could do that at Marymount in a year and a half and enter the Cornell program in September 1956. Decision made – I was now on my way to a profession I came to truly love.

But the biggest blessing that came to me from embracing the Novena of Grace was when I met my husband-to-be on March 5 of 1960.

I moved to Washington after graduation from Cornell taking an apartment with two other young gals, Genevive and Janet, who both had just graduated from Trinity College in Washington and who wanted to start their work life in the nation’s capitol. Gen worked in marketing and Janet got a job teaching. I had been hired by Arlington County, VA as a public health nurse. We lived in Glover Park right outside of Georgetown. Having grown up in Laurelton, Long Island which is part of New York City and having all my schooling in New York City schools – that includes Cornell’s nursing school which along with their medical school is also located in New York City – moving to Washington DC was a big deal for me. I was both scared and very excited. The scary part was eased somewhat by the fact that both my brothers lived in or not too far from DC.

My Jesuit brother Bud taught at Gonzaga High School and lived there in the Jesuit residence . My brother Pete and his bride lived in Northern Virginia. It was a pretty ideal situation for me. I liked the friends I was living with and my brothers and new sister-in-law were close by.

On Saturday, March 5 of 1960, as part of that year’s Novena of Grace , I was planning on attending mass at Holy Trinity in Georgetown. I needed spiritual guidance about my dating life. Holy Trinity was the parish serving Glover Park where we lived. The night before my roomates and I were out rather late with friends. When the alarm went off at 8am – so I could get to the 9 o’clock mass at Holy Trinity, I was so so tired. It had been a very busy week at work. I reset the alarm for 11 o’clock and went back to sleep. Though I didn’t know the mass schedules of other churches I was sure I could find one that had a Saturday mass later than Holy Trinity’s 9am. Waking up at 11 I got phone busy right away. After a few phone calls I learned that St Matthew’s Cathedral had a 12 o’clock . I quickly dressed and was on my way – with my DC map since I had never been to St. Matthew’s. When I finally found the church I was a bit taken aback that in order to reach the church parking I had to go up a hill that was still showing the snow effects of the previous day’s storm. I saw a blue Volkswagen drive the snow covered hill with no problem. So up I started and slid back down. I tried again with the same results. By this time the driver of the blue Volks had parked his car and was now standing by the side of the hill watching my sliding episodes. Finally he called out, ” Can I help”. I had been taught as a child in New York not to talk to strangers. But this stranger was so appealing. I moved over, he climbed in and up the hill we went. We then attended mass together and when he walked me back to my car and asked for my phone number, I was pretty excited. I didn’t tell him but he had to call by Tuesday if he wanted to go out the next weekend. My roomates and I had pretty active social lives. After Tuesday I would probably have plans. Around 7:30 on Tuesday evening the phone rang. It was the call I had been hoping and praying for.

Jerry and I were engaged in June 1960 and married the following November. We first were planning to be married in June of 1961 and then we moved the date to February of 1961. That was the date we gave my parents. About two weeks later we gave them another call and said we would like to get married sooner, like on November 26 of 1960. I was concerned that my parents would think we were moving too quickly and was surprised that there was almost a tone of relief in their voices. And then my father shared that he had checked our February date with the Farmers’ Almanac. It forcasted a major snowstorm for Long Island. They were trying to decide what they should do when we called with the change of date. They were so relieved. As it turned out the Almanac was right – the major snow storm materalized.

I am a strong believer in the power of prayer. On November 26, 2025 Jerry and I will celebrate our 65th wedding anniuversary.

PHASES OF LIFE

Jerry and I are in a new phase of life. We can now be referred to as elderly. Seems strange since we don’t feel elderly. But according to Google we are now in the third of the three life-stage sub groups of old age, the old-old group whose members are over 85. It is a bit of a shock since it all happened so quickly.

As a child I was a tomboy – a very easy path to follow since I had two brothers and I liked doing things with them. Doll playing was only an occasaional activity for me. I liked climbing trees and running races. When my brothers went off to high school they were both “big deals” on their high school track team. My all girls high school did not offer track which I would have liked. But maybe I would not have had time for track because my high school offered so many fun activities . The first time I landed a leading part in one of the school plays I knew I had found my favorite activity.

By high school time I had moved out of the tomboy phase of life and was investigating things feminine and I was starting to learn about boys and coming to terms with the difference between boys who were friends and a boyfriend. With two older brothers there were always a lot of boys in my life but this boyfriend concept was different.

My all girls high school, Mary Louis Academy, sponsored activities that included boys from various local all boy schools. There were some very well attended dances at Mary Louis where in an attempt to promote boy/girl mingling, the girls were directed to take off a shoe and place it in the middle of the gym floor where all dances were held. Boys were then told to pick up a shoe, find the girl owner, and dance with her.

By the time I was in 6th grade of grammar school I was 5 feet 6 inches tall and wore a size 10 shoe. Fortunately I stopped growing at that point but having reached a size 10 shoe by the 6th grade I was a bit self conscious about my shoe size. My friend Gracie probably wore a size 4. Fast forward to the high school dances and the Cinderella approach to promoting mixed couple dancing was a real turnoff for me. Also the shoes I wore were sturdy, sensible shoes – not exactly the kind to attract interest from the opposite sex.

I remember one of these dances where my shoe was actually picked by a nice guy who had come to the dance with several of his friends. At the end of the evening when he offered to take me home I accepted. None of my friends who were at the dance lived in my neighborhood. My father was going to come and pick me up – going home with this fellow would save Pop the trip. When the dance was over and we were heading out to my new friend’s car I learned that we were actually going in the car of one of my dance partner’s friends. It turned out that the friend was a very fast driver. I was not used to fast drivers and I was nervous and distracted from the fun chit chat I was having with my new friend. I started praying – at first silently and then verbally. They got me home safely. I never heard from my new friend again.

Heading off to college just a few days after my high school graduation, I was glad when I learned New York State was closing down winter school starts and that in the future, fall would be the starting date for all students – no matter when your birthday. The wrap up of one phase of schooling and advancement to the next needed to be properly celebrated and not just squeezed in, in the few days marking the end of one phase and the beginning of the next. |

A highlight of senior year was the Prom. Seventh term and eighth term seniors had a combined Prom. Each term voted for members of the Prom committee. I was honored when my eighth term classmates voted for me to be on the committee and further honored when the members from my class nominated me to be the Prom Chairwoman. I lost that position by one vote and became the co-chair. It was such a powerful learning for me when the nun who was the moderator of the prom committee, and my physics teacher, took me aside after the election and gave me a lecture on advocating for ones self. She said the student who won the spot had voted for herself and that was what I should have done. She said she could understand my reticence to vote for myself but that there were times in life when it was important to be comfortable with your strengths and to acknowledge them. It was a valuable lesson and one that I had never thought about.

With my fellow prom committee members, I enjoyed working on the mechanics of organizing our prom. It was traditionally held at the Hotel Pierre in New York City. I just Googled the hotel to see if it is still in existence and was pleased to learn that after all these years it has maintained its star studded status. While I found the work involved in setting up a prom for about two hundred young women and their dates to be very manageable and enjoyable, getting a date for myself was another matter. Some of my friends had actual boy friends so it was no problem for them. I was still more comfortable with boys who were friends than a boyfriend. So who to ask? I finally settled on David. He must have been going through the same decision making issues because he asked me to be his date for his prom. We had such fun at both events. There were no worries about trying to make a good impression.

Graduation was on I think – it was seventy years ago so I am not absolutely sure – a Sunday night with college beginning a few days later. It ws an honor to be one of the ten percernt of my graduating class to be chosen by classmates and faculty to wear the CLS blue and gold tassel on our graduation caps. CLS stood for Character, Loyalty and a Spirit of Study. It was an honor but one tthat quickly faded into the background with the start of college a few days later.

College was such an entirely different world than high school and I was ready. More about that in a future blog.

JANUARY MUSINGS

January is a time for New Years resolutions that help you to forward focus. As Jerry and I are getting older the desire to use my time in a meaningful way is very powerful. When I was younger I sometimes devoted too much time thinking of the talents I did not have. Getting older has helped me to realize what a waste it is to focus on the do not haves. It is a time to honestly assess your talents and abilities and to use them.

The talent that I would most like to have had is a musical ability. Hard to say when I first realized this lack. My parents were not musical nor were my brothers. When we were small we used to perform for company. And since the company – family or friends of my parents – always applauded enthusiastically that did not give us the reality check we needed for our musical abilities.

Great Aunt Mary thought we should have piano lessons and she offered to pay for them. I don’t think my brothers were interested but I was. My parents accepted Aunt Mary’s gift and off I went once a week to the lessons which were given by one of the nuns from the parochial school my brothers and I attended. I am not sure why but I became very enamored of the works of Stephen Foster. My favorite was “Oh ! Susanna”. I thought I played it well. As I reflect back now on my non-musical skills I shudder to think how I sounded.

Going from grade school to high school was perhaps not the big deal for me that it should have been, because within the week of finishing my grade school years I became a high school freshman. I have often talked about being in the last class of students who started their school experience in February. That was true for me in kindergarten, grade school, high school and college. Finally New York State closed down February admissions. Those who were in the February class kept that rotation but there were no more February beginning students. The small parochial school that I attended did not even have a graduation for the February graduates. You were expected to return in June to share a joint graduation with the June class. I told my friend Gracie who was in that June class that I would not be at the grade school graduation. It seemed silly to me to go back. I was already in High School. The teachers knew that Gracie and I were good friends and when I was not responding to graduation information they asked her what was up and she shared my thoughts. Gracie was told that I had to come because I was getting an award. When my parents heard that, a decision was made to attend the graduation.

It was hard not having the summer to adjust to new stages in my educational life. Having only a few days break between the various stages made the adjustment a little more complicated. Fortunately in college there was mandatory summer school at the end of that first semester which meant that by the time September rolled around I was officially a college sophmore. That year I completed the sixty credits needed for admission to the BSN program at Cornell and I was well on my way to the nursing career that I loved.

In the last summer of my high school years some college friends of my brother Pete were having a beach party. When Pete accepted the invite he was informed that the invitation also was extended to his sister. I was pretty excited. I had never been to a beach party. Pete who was familiar with this kind of gathering told me there would be a beach fire with food and lots of singing. Since by this time I was quite realistic about my musical skills I suddenly was not so sure about going to the party which was about two weeks off. Pete suggested that in the interim we listen to the radio program ” Your Hit Parade” and master the opening lines to some of the songs that would surely be sung at the party. Well we did exactly as Pete proposed and I still remember to this day how much fun the party was. Knowing the opening lines to various songs was key. I sang very softly so my off keyness would not be obvious and I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Though I accepted my lack of musicality I used to pray that if God wanted to perform a pretty dramatic miracle He could make me musical. Well that did not happen but He did me one better. God gave me a musical husband and wonderfully musical children and grandchildren. I am truly blessed.

I find this quote from Victor Hugo very powerful: Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.

CHRISTMAS TIME 2024

A picture of my brother Bud. We miss him!!!

Have always loved this season of the year – both the religious aspects and the Santa Clause influen

The religious aspects were dominant in my home in my growing years . My mother was a firm believer in special Advent prayers to honor the birth of Jesus and that religious belief helped to put the right focus on this special holy/holiday time. We shared Christmas dinner with either my father’s family or my mother’s. My parents strove to make the religious aspects of Christmas dominant.

As the youngest in the fanily I was the last to lose my belief in Santa Clause. My parents used to take us to Gertz Department store in Jamaica, Long Island, for our annual visit with Santa. I remember my final visit – guess I was around ten years of age and my Santa belief was a little shaky but I wanted to go. Since my brothers were telling me that Santa was just a nice story but not real – they were not allowed into the store’s North Pole village . They stood behind the fence surrounding the village. And when it became time for me to sit on Santa’s lap my brothers moved to a spot behind the fence where they could hear my conversation with Santa. When he asked me what I wanted for Christmas they started calling out things they wanted. I got an attack of the giggles. Santa was very kind but it was my last childhood visit with him. My Santa belief was gone.

In my student nurse days at Cornell I remember well the first Christmas that I had to work in the hospital. I so loved this time of yeaI could not imagine missing my family celebration. Well, much to my surprise, it turned out to be a very special celebration. It was a gift to care for those who were hospitalized – especially those who had no one to visit with them.

For many of our married years my brother Pete and his wife Louise and Jerry and I joined together to celebrate this special time. We took turns traveling to Long Island. It was a blessing when my parents in their retirement years moved to Maryland to be nearer to us and to Pete and Louise. And since Jerry was an only child we were always blessed in being able to share the holidays with his parents.

When he returned from his missionary years in Chile, my priestly brother Bud, also known as Uncle Bud or Father Joe, resumed his place as an important part of our family lives. Whether he was teaching at Gonzaga High School or running a retreat house in Virginia he always found time for his family. A special gift from Bud was the many home masses that he said for us. I particularly found his Christmas masses very powerful. When our family and Pete and Louise’s family and our parents all gathered together for a Christmas home mass I ceased to wonder if we were doing an effective job of focusing on the true meaning of Christmas. As I said in a previous blog, in 2022, Bud holds a special place in all our lives. We miss him.

Our children – our five and Pete and Lou’s four – have always been close – which is very special. We kept up the tradition to gather for Christmas with them for many years. Sometimes – with a little parental help – the children would put on a Nativity pageant which added the right emphasis for our gatherings. When we no longer had a child young enough to represent Baby Jesus the gatherings morphed into Christmas sing-a-longs. These were such happy gatherings but as the children got older, our sing-a-long participants increased to forty plus attendees. But when Covid struck we had to bring the sing-a-longs to a close.

This year we are hosting two special gatherings at our home. We will have about twenty seven of our nuclear family for Christmas dinner. It might sound like an intimidating number but everyone pitches in. Atar has sent out the signup sheet for what folks want to bring for dinner and the sheet is filling up nicely. Three days later we are hosting a party honoring the marriage of Amy and Jeremy. We are very blessed and we know it.

ELECTION TIME

ELECTION TIME

ELECTION TIME

This is such a beautiful time of year and a scary time with the Election tomorrow. I had not planned to have my November blog focus on the election but it is just so important to focus on the political scene. Last Thursday I was very energized in reading a New York Tmes article by Nicholas Kristof on the differences between Kamala Harris and Donald Trump. My takeaway was that she is not perfect – but then none of us is. She is bright, politically experienced and truly cares about our wonderful country and wants to be a leader for all. Donald Trump is focused on himself.

I think there were some evil political spirits hiding inside my computer. My brand new computer started acting erraticly. I was determined to share the Kristof article but the evil spirits did their best to stop me. If I pressed an “a” a “q” showed up. If I pressed an “e” it was replaced by a “c”. Various unwanted symbols also put in an appearance. The worse it got made me even more determined to share Kristof ‘s election thoughts with beloved family members. And so off it went – not to everyone because the computer’s ailments wore me down but at least to the grandchildren and hopefully all nineteen but no guarantees because of my computer malfunction.

( Computer malfunction was cured when the next day I took the computer to the Genius Bar at Apple and they found that the tech who set up the new computer had left out one important step – that step was completed and the computer is working fine now,)

Have had some great discussions with different family members about the United States involvement in Gaza and Lebanon . I don’t feel that I have done a good enough job of explaining how I could possibly back the Democratic ticket when I am not supportative of our country’s supplying weapons to Israel. I am personally horrified by the carnage in Gaza but feel that if Trump wins the election the situation will get even worse!

In 1956 I voted for the first time. I was a nursing student at Cornell and so excited that I was finally able to vote. When my absentee ballot arrived in the mail I could barely contain my excitement. I checked the date it had to be returned by, and my class schedule, and then planned my first voting experience for a few days later when I could devote enough time to this long anticipated civic duty. I am a political junkie.

Jerry and I voted at the Fairfax Government Center last week. There was only about a twenty five minute wait. We decided to vote early not knowing what Tuesday would bring. The two times Barack Obama ran we voted at our local school. The wait was about 3- 4 hours but the time passed quickly. There was such a feeling of fellowship among all those waiting in line. We live in a pretty blue district. We all felt so privileged to be helping to elect such an amazing candidate. And I feel that way today about Kamala Harris.

If you haven’t already PLEASE VOTE!!!

MY GOLF ADDICTION

International Country Club

Don’t know how old I was – maybe 6 or 7 – when I first learned that the strange brown bag in our home basement which housed somethings called golf clubs actually belonged to my Mom and Dad. Golf was a foreign language to me so I was amazed when I found out it was a sport that my parents had occasionally indulged in during their dating years. To the best of my knowledge my parents never golfed again once they married and had children. I think the reason was, in those post depression years of the 1930’s, a combination of the time involved, the cost, and parenting a young family.

Fast forward thirty plus years to when Jerry and I were starting our family. Birthing five children in six and three quarter years did not leave much opportunity for a time consuming sport like golf. As the children moved beyond the baby stage Jerry would occasionally play with friends and sometimes I would too. But for me it was the fun of doing an outside activity with my husband rather than any attraction I felt for golf. Golf courses are usually in settings which show case the beauty of nature. Little did I realize that the seeds of my golf addiction were starting to take root.

Now fast forward to the 1980’s – we were empty nesters – except when the children were home from college. Our five children all started and completed undergraduate school in the decade of the 80’s. I branched out a little in my golf, not only playing with Jerry but also joining a women’s group at our local golf club. It was strictly a social activity for me – I wanted to play with Jerry and I wanted to play with friends. The fact that I shot in the 70’s and 80’s for nine holes didn’t bother me a bit. It was a delightful social time and also I don’t think I realized how bad my golf scores really were.

Now fast forward again -this time to the 1990’s. We had moved to Century Oak , a new community being built in Fairfax, in Northern Virginia. Somewhere in this time period I began to start caring about my golf scores and just my game in general. We joined a near by country club, International CC. And I joined their 18 hole Ladies Group. And I took golf lessons. And my game improved. The scores I used to have for 9 holes of golf were now the scores I wanted when playing 18 holes. I have never quite reached that goal, my best for 18, so far, being 102 on a challenging course like International.

Now in our late 80’s we basically play two times per week and sometimes three, and we specialize in 9 hole golf. A bit of arthritis dictates the amount of golf we can play. It is a special treat when we play today with our children and/or our grandchildren. And there are so many happy memories of golfing with my brothers Bud and Pete, and with dear old friends and with my precious goddaughter, Margaret.

Most golf courses show off the beauty of nature and ours is no exception. So even if your golf game is misbehaving it is so enjoyable to just soak in the beauty of the course. In these political times I can well relate to the words of Billy Graham about golf: “A golf course is an island of peace in a world often full of confusion and turmoil.”

REPRINTING MY REFLECTIONS WRITTEN THREE YEARS AGO ON THE 20TH ANNIVERSARY OF 9-11

So much has happened in these last twenty years – a mix of happiness, sadness and pure joy. In June of 2001 our youngest daughter, Meg, was married. It was a beautiful wedding that reflected the caring and the specialness of Meg and her husband Brendan. In the summer weeks that followed we often reflected on the happiness of this occasion. And then came September 11.

Jerry and I had been in Massachusetts for the funeral of a dear cousin. As we were approaching New Jersey on the return drive we decided to stop and visit our Aunt Bette , a truly amazing woman. In her upper 90’s Aunt Bette was still full of the spark and enthusiasm that had made her a very successful art teacher and then art supervisor in the public schools. It was such a fun visit that when she asked us to spend the night we happily said “yes.” Next morning we were sitting at breakfast with Aunt Bette when the woman who was her daytime companion and helper arrived for work. She asked if we had heard of the plane crash into the World Trade Center some place in Europe, she was not sure exactly where. Jerry and I looked at one another – we did not know of any World Trade Center in Europe. Our thoughts were of the World Trade Center in New York City where our son Jerry’s law firm had its offices. With Aunt Bette’s permission we turned on her TV. We were quickly horrified to learn that this terrorist attack was taking place in New York City. Two buildings collapsed – one was the building housing our son’s offices. It was now after nine o’clock and we knew that our son when possible got to work early. We were frightened. For the next several hours we tried reaching Jerry on his cell phone. We called our four other children. Everyone was worried about Jerry but relieved to hear from us. Since the decision to spend the night with Aunt Bette had been a last minute decision our family expected that we would be back in Virginia and they were concerned when we didn’t answer our home phone. In talking with the children we learned about the attack on the Pentagon. These were hours of prayer for the safety of our son and for all those effected by the terrors that were unfolding. And they were hours of fear of the unknown.

As so often happens with prayer when our prayers were first answered it was not in the way we expected. Around noon we got the inspiration to check the answering machine on our home phone. There was a message from our son Jerry. After hours of no cell phone service because of overuse he was finally able to make calls. He told us that he was in Jersey City. He had been able to catch a very overcrowded ferry from lower Manhattan. A friend called him when the ferry docked and they set up a meeting place in a local restaurant. The friend was going to take him to his home. But we finally got through to Jerry on his cell and made plans to meet up with him and take him back to his family in Brooklyn. This turned out to be a bit complicated because a number of roads were closed but we finally made it back to Brooklyn and united Jerry with his family. Though this took several hours it was an unmitigated joy to feast our eyes on this precious son we had feared lost.

After their wedding Meg and Brendan who had met in their jobs as Jesuit Volunteers in Portland, Oregon returned to their work in Portland. On September 12th Meg and a friend went for a long walk after work. They finally decided they were too ambitious in their exercise plans and they had better call Brendan for a ride home. They stepped into a convenience store while waiting for Brendan. Meg spotted the local newspaper, THE OREGONIAN and was taken aback to see a featured article about the plane crashes into the World Trade Center that started off ” Jerry and Peggy have five children………” The article then went on to talk about our family and in particular about our son Jerry whose office was in one of the downed World Trade Center buildings. The author of the article was a sports writer, Chuck, who also was a dear and special friend of our son, Jerry. They had met at the University of Virginia and to this day are still close friends. Meg was so touched on reading the article to learn that Chuck when he wrote the article did not know that Jerry was ok.

Though Jerry was usually to work early, September 11, 2001 was such a beautiful day in New York, Jerry decided to walk his children to their near by grade school and then to go on and vote in the New York City primary. So often in life we make simple decisions that have powerful consequences. This certainly was one of those times!!! On September 12, 2001 Jerry wrote a reflection on his past 24 hours. It is powerfully and beautifully written. He posts it every year. We must never forget what transpired on September 11. Jerry’s post is a powerful tool to make sure we do not forget.

A POWERFUL WOMAN

My mother, Fran, August 31, 1978 – her 75th birthday

Frequently when I hear Kamala Harris referred to as a powerful woman – district attorney, attorney general , vice president, and now candidate for president of these United States, my thoughts turn to the powerful women in my own life. My mother Frances McAllister McCloskey leads the parade.

Fran, and her identical twin sister Marg, were born August 31, 1903 in Ithica, New York. Their brother Don was born a year earlier. These were happy/sad years because when the children were very young their mother died. With the passsge of time grandfather remarried. From my childhood I remember their stepmother Nana as caring but intimidating.

The twins were very good students and actually graduated from high school at fifteen. Because of their age they waited a year before starting college. During that period they wrote a weekly column for the Ithica newspaper. They chose to attend Cornell and ( a touching fact )- the dorm room they were assigned had been their mother’s when she was a student at Cornell in 1893.

When World War 1 broke out, grandfather, who was a lawyer, lost his biggest client , the Leigh Valley Railroad when it was taken over by the federal government. That coincided with a partnership offer from a New York City law firm which grandfather accepted. He and Nana moved to New York city.

The twins wanted to be with their parents in New York and so after two years they switched to Barnard College of Columbia University. Talking to me about that decision in later years, mom felt it was a good deciasion -they were very happy at Barnard and made good friends.

It has always surprised me that my kind, caring grandfather did not support the twins decision to go on to law school after graduation from Barnard. He certainly knew that they had the ability to do well in law school but he could not bring himself to support their decision. The twins got jobs and paid for their own law school. Mom was a trust officer for Guarantee Trust. They attended Fordham Law School at night where mom met my father, a fellow student. Fordham had a day law school in addition to the night school. My mother graduated first in their class. Her grades were so good that they even surpassed those of the day students so that she was first for both the day and night law schools. My father liked to say that while mom may have won the prize for first in the class he won the real prize because he won my mother.

Google has many definations of a strong woman. The Google defination that most resonates with me in referencing my mother has nothing to do with her physical size – she was little more than five feet tall – but rather her strong sense of self, her compassaion and her concern for others. My brothers and I always had a positive cheerleader in our mother. She felt we could achieve any goals we set our hearts on.

In reflection I think the early years of my parent’s marriage must have been very tough. They lost their first and fifth babies soon after birth to health conditions that today would not have had such dire consequences.

In the late 1930’s once they were settled in Laurelton, Long Island and they strove to develop their own law practice, my father never gave up his teaching job. He liked teaching and as the country was recovering from a major depression, he liked the financial security of his teaching. That meant that any needs of their incipient law practice that arose during the hours my father was teaching had to be handled by my mother. As we got older my brothers and I were entrusted with answering the phone, ” Mc Closkey and McCloskey Attorneys and Counselors of Law”.

I am amazed by my mother’s abiliity to balance motherhood and with my father, develop a legal practice. Because the 1930’s post depression era led to such tight financial times for the country, it really was not until I was starting high school that my parents were on sound financial footing. I knew that landmark had been reached when Great Aunt Mary who had paid for my brothers to attend a private high school offered to do the same for me and my father said “no thank you” he would pay my expenses at the private girls’ high school. At that time the local public high school did not have a good academic record.

I believe that my mother would have been a strong Kamila Harris fan. I felt that way about Hillary Clinton’s candidacy and I feel even more strongly mom’s probable positive reaction to Kamila Harris.

Checking Google for the definition of a powerful woman I find many quotes that I feel reference my mother, a woman of strong faith in God and in herself. I like the words of Oprah Winfrey “life is about finding yourself, embracing your strengths and weaknesses, and in being true to who you are.”

FAMILY BEACH TIME

To illustrate the passage of time – above is from August 5, 2013

Growing up on Long Island the ocean beach was pretty accessible. Before we had a car, the Rockaway beaches were just a short train ride away. In the years when we didn’t have a car the 10ish minute walk to the Long Island train passed quickly as did the train ride itself which depending on which of the Rockaway beaches we were heading to, was at the most a half hour train ride away. Though I must confess that as a child I thought a half hour train ride was too far from the ocean I loved.

A very special Long island beach was Jones Beach. From where we lived that was only easily accessible by car. And when our family car was up and running that was such a fun place to go.

When Jerry and I were first married we lived in an apartment in Arlington, Virginia – a couple of hours from the Virginia and or Maryland/ Delaware beaches where we liked to spend beach time. A several hours trip to the beach gave me new insight into how fortunate my brothers and I were as kids to live relatively close to such good ocean beaches

Jerry loves the beach as much as I do. When Jerry and I got engaged, it was in a park on the way to the beach. This particular outing was to be beach time with my priestly brother, Bud ( also known as Father Joe and with the passage of time, beloved Uncle Bud) . I was so excited to share with Bud the news of our engagement. And it was equally exciting when we called my parents to give them the news. At first we told them that we wanted to be married in perhaps June of 1961. Then we called them back and changed the date to February 1961 . That date didn’t last long. We soon settled on November of 1960 which was eight months after we first met. When we called my parents to make the change to November 1960 my father confessed his relief that we were dropping the February time. He had checked the almanac and for February 4, 1961 Long Island was forecasted to be inundated by a major snow storm. And that indeed was the case. Where my parents still lived on Long island, where the November wedding actually took place, was hit by a blizzard.

And now with our five grown children married with families of their own we have a tradition of family beach week. For about ten years from the 1970’s to the mid 1980’s we shared ownership of a condo at Sea Colony in Bethany Beach , Delaware with Pete and Louise and their daughters. My mother and her sister and husband also owned a condo in the same complex. We all spent a lot of time at Sea Colony, both in and out of the typical beach season. And the whole family loved it. But after my mother died; and after a drainage pipe was installed at Sea Colony that extended out into the ocean that changed the contour of the ocean floor to the extent that conditions were no longer amazing for wave riding; and with five children who were either in college or soon to start, we decided it was time to sell our place at Sea Colony. That didn’t stop us from going to the ocean – we just didn’t go as often. School and job commitments made that too difficult. And children growing up and pursuing their various life directions affected their availability.

And now as we plan our family beach week, our children’s work schedules, our grandchildren’s schedules and the ocean tide charts all must be taken into consideration. If everyone can come we would have 31. This year we had 26. Even though everyone can not come every year, our gatherings are a total blessing.

The beach is a spiritual experience for me. Normally I seldom miss a once a week church service. It is very important for my inner peace. I don’t feel that way at the ocean. I am moved, comforted and challenged by the ocean – its beauty, its sounds, its bird life, the antics of the dolphins, the inner peace it gives me even on its wildest days.

The only problem with beach week is that it goes by too quickly. Because this year we were there in the beginning of summer, we ended our incredible week with a celebration of Jim’s birthday. We all gathered to serenade him and to eat an amazing peach cobbler – made by Jim . And then Lisa asked the birthday questions. It was a perfect ending to our special week.

Talent night is a unique feature of our gatherings. There is no pressure to perform and not everyone does. But it is so, so special. This year we were treated to the musical talents of the two Jerrys, of Jim, of Quinn and Lane, of Liam, of Lilly. And Alec playing his guitar and singing a song he had written : A Challenge – Face It. Love the inspiration of these words – they are a powerful message to end this blog

And now – July 1, 2024 – as the saying goes ” time flies”