Showing posts with label daddy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label daddy. Show all posts

Sunday, June 20, 2010

My Dad in His Youth



My Dad in His Youth, originally uploaded by confections.
One of my mother's favorite photos of my Dad, circa 1950, Allegheny County, Pennsylvania.

My Dad and His Four Brothers, Circa 1930
My Dad and his four brothers, taken about 1930. Left to right: Ralph Alphonse, Vincent Nicholas, Alfred Michael, John Clement (my Dad), and Frank Cletus.

My grandmother and grandfather called three of their five sons by their middle names, so my uncles were: Uncle Ralph, Uncle Vince, my Dad (Uncle Clem to my cousins), Uncle Clete, and Uncle Mike. My Uncle Clete is the only one still alive.

My Dad with One of His World War II Buddies, circa 1969
My Dad (on the right) with one of his World War II buddies, Ray Wilken. Ray and his wife had come into town for a visit and they sat around the dining room table and caught up on their lives. Circa spring of 1969.

Happy Father's Day!

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

In My Parents' Garden


In My Parents' Garden (11), originally uploaded by confections.

I am grieving the loss of my Mother this past Valentine's Day and finding solace in images of the cottage garden she and my father created. These photos were taken circa 1987, four years before my father died.
In My Parents' Garden (10)
In My Parents' Garden (8)
In My Parents' Garden (5)

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

My Mom & Dad, 1956


My Mom & Dad, 1956, originally uploaded by confections.

Today would have been my Dad's 92nd birthday, but he's been gone for nearly 18 years. I lost Uncle George, my Mom's brother, earlier this month; he was born the same year as my Dad.

In the wake of Uncle George's passing, I have been doing a lot of genealogical research into the wee hours, placing pieces of the puzzle into my family tree.

I would encourage you to conduct an oral history interview with all of your loved ones, especially the old-timers. Vast amounts of knowledge are lost when one of them passes; putting their recollections down on paper or (even better) in their own voice will provide an invaluable record.

My Mom's older sister had a faint recollection of the name of a small town in Germany that she had heard the elders mention. That bit of information led to my finding one of our great-great-grandmothers. (My Mother is two-and-a-half years younger than her sister, and did not recall this vital clue.)

I'm in the middle of another family mystery as I write this and am waiting to hear from the Carnegie Library in Pittsburgh with some details about a great-grandfather. One of my aunts provided a clue that (knock on wood) has enabled us to identify him.

So, Happy Birthday, Daddy! Farewell, Uncle George! I can hear them now, swapping stories behind the pearly gates.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

My Dad with His Guitar


My Dad with His Guitar, originally uploaded by confections.

My youngest sister sent this photo to me yesterday. It is one that I had never seen, possibly from my uncle's estate originally, and dates to the mid- to late-1940's.

She included the following anonymous quotation along with the picture:

"My father's guiding hand on my shoulder will remain with me forever."

Missing you still, Daddy, and honoring your memory.

Friday, September 19, 2008

My Dad and My Sister


My Dad and My Sister, originally uploaded by confections.

Remembering my Dad this week.... I love this photo that my Mom took of my Dad and my sister sharing a joyful moment in the summer of 1957.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Daddy Reading at the Cabin


Daddy Reading at the Cabin, originally uploaded by confections.

I lost my father to an accident seventeen years ago today. In the aftermath of his loss, an elderly friend of mine, a poet who had only known my Dad through my sister and me, wrote a moving tribute to him. I'm including it here; it was written by my late friend, Mary Ellen Gallagher (Drumdaughter), whom I sorely miss as well.



On the last full day of his life
he climbed a tree.
What, you ask, was a seventy-four
year old man doing
climbing a tree?

Perhaps the bright autumn woods
made him feel a boy again
and he longed to be held in leafy arms,
gaze once more on his beloved fields,
and touch the wild September sky.

In numinous response to leaves
and sun and apple-scented air
he moved old aching bones up to the tree top
and started his journey away from
minds which look askance at old men in trees.

I could only wish to climb a tree
on the last full day of my life.

Daddy on the Front Porch of the Cabin, circa 1975
Dad

Sunday, June 15, 2008

My Dad with My Brother Gary, circa 1948

Happy Father's Day, Daddy!