Sunday, August 4, 2019

what happened

 We all have memories of home. More specifically we all have memories of things that were in our homes as we grew up. You know what I mean, those little objects that were always there. It may have been a particular chair, lamp, or knick-knack on a shelf. Those things that meant something to someone. Memories on a shelf. I recall a few that stick out for no particular reason. There was a figurine of a hobo, he was holding a little sign that said, " money isn't everything, but it beats whatever is in second place " He stood on the shelf next to the fireplace. And there was a picture of Dad, in his Army Air Force uniform, that sat on the mantle. It was always there, yes, it was a fixture.
 Now there is a funny little story that goes with that picture. As I said it always sat on the mantle, prominently displayed, and was in its' usual place on this day. My oldest brother had a date and had brought her to the house. Now that was something unusual in itself. We seldom had company at my house, for any reason. Beyond an uncle or an aunt stopping by, rarely did anyone come to our house.I can't explain why that was, just that it was. But on this particular occasion this young lady was in our living room, feeling awkward and a bit nervous I'm sure. My brother had gone upstairs to his room to retrieve something and she was left standing there. Trying her best to be cordial he admired that picture of Dad and asked who it was. My father immediately replied, that's me, with a bit of a glimmer in his eye. So this young lady, being nervous like she was, just blurts out, what happened! Well Mom just about spits out her coffee and Dad has a look of shock on his face. The young lady now turns red and starts spurting something unintelligible. About that time brother Harold comes back downstairs and is looking around rather frantically, not knowing what just happened. Mom is laughing, Dad is saying, what do you mean, and of course the rest of us are just smiling ear to ear. Nothing more is said and the happy couple leaves.
 Now that little incident has been spoken about hundreds of times over the years. It became one of those family jokes, all you had to say was, what happened and we laugh. A family anecdote I believe would be the best description. Anyway, that photo sat on the mantle for many years. When Mom and Dad moved to Florida it naturally went with them. It sat on various shelves and tables in their home but it was a constant presence. Dad passed in 1990 and that photo remained. At some point my mother gave the picture to my sister. It was still in the old frame, just the way it had always been. My sister left it that way for many years. Then my sister decided to hang that picture on the wall with some others that she had. She hesitated for just a few moments. She remembered Dad telling her he had given that picture to his Grandmother and it was she that had placed it in that frame. He figured that was about 1942 or so. But deciding it was okay, she removed the back of the frame and lifted out what she believed to be the picture. To her surprise it was another picture entirely. This picture was of a beautiful bride. There was nothing written on it, no name, no date. A mystery. She removed that picture of Dad next and she did hang it on the wall. The bride remained a mystery but was framed and hung as well.
 Now Dad was raised by his grandmother. His Mom, Clara had passed away three days after his birth. So Grandmother Lucy had raised him and his brother and she was the only mother he ever knew. His paternal grandmother had passed long before his birth. Grandmother Lucy was Mom to him and he loved her dearly. He was drafted into the service in 1942, his older brother having already been drafted. Grandmother Lucy was naturally distraught, she had lost her daughter, and now both boys were off to war. Dad sent her that photograph. It was she that had placed it in that frame. She felt that it would be best. As to that bride, that bride is Clara, mother to my father. Grandmother Lucy placed my fathers picture in close to his Mom praying for his protection. Evidently it worked as Dad survived the war. The picture remained in that frame, close to his Mother for all those years.
 All of that happened some years back. That picture, the one of Dad, hangs on the wall of my sisters house in Florida. And it is appropriate that it does so. You see, Dads' father, my grandfather Elwood passed away on a trip to Florida. He had a ruptured appendix and passed away in Palm Beach. In a strange coincidence my sister was born in Florida, West Palm Beach to be exact. Strange  because we were all raised in New York. Yes, Dad was raised in New York, my sister was raised in New York and I was raised in New York. My first duty station in the Navy? Florida! And now Grandfather Elwood and his bride Clara are united once again. Those pictures hang side by side. And that picture of Dad? The one that sat on the mantle all those years. It hangs on the wall in that family grouping. I have a copy of that photograph and smile when ever I see it. I'll ask myself, what happened.
 I can't help but think sometimes. I sure wish I knew who that young lady was, I believe she may have been one of the Disunno girls, Lynn perhaps? But I don't know, that was over fifty years ago now. It was after all just a small incident, one that caused some amusement and a family anecdote. But if she were to ask today, what happened, it would be an interesting story. Indeed I have many old pictures that I wish I knew, what happened.
                                                                                 
The Bride

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