Memories of Murdock Street

When I was a little girl my grandparents lived in Brighton, Massachusetts. They lived there until I was 10 years old, and then moved down to Cape Cod to be near us.
In my mind I can still see my grandparents house in Brighton. It was large with a down stairs apartment and then their part of the house on the second floor and then on the third floor another apartment. In the down stairs apartment lived my grandfather’s sister Hedwig and her husband Albert. What I remember most about them was Hedwig’s fabulous cooking. It seemed she always had cookies and hot cocoa when I would sneak down the back stairway to visit her.
The middle floor was my grandparents part of the house. It was very large with a screened porch in the front, a phone on a table in the hallway, and then a big living room which led into a large dining room with a bay window, I often sat there looking out of the windows. This led into a kitchen with an old fashioned pantry. I loved this little room because I could climb up on the counter and find cookies. (yes, I admit, I am a cookie monster!)
Off the kitchen was a hallway that led to a big bathroom, and then my grandparent’s bedroom next to that. I remember going into their bedroom in the early morning and climbing into bed with them for cuddles. Papa Fred and Grandma Honey really loved their grandchildren.
Upstairs was where my uncle, his wife and their two kids lived. Originally this was where my mother and uncle had their rooms when they were kids. When we stayed there I would sleep in my cousin’s room.
Being the baby of the family (both of my first cousins were 8 and 10 years older than me, and my brother was 7 years older and Mel is 5 years older), I was always the first one sent to bed. I hated that until I learned that if I snuck quietly into my aunt and uncles room I could open the floor grate and listen to the adults below.
My memories of Brighton are good ones. My grandparents were both still in good health and family parties were always a lot of fun. Back then when they had the parties for the family, everyone would come and I got to see my grandfather’s brother’s and their families. I remember once telling Papa’s brother how much he looked like my Papa and he laughed heartily.
Grandma’s older sister Tilly was always there too. She was my Godmother. She was always quick with a smile and often would play ragtime songs on the piano.
Tilly’s son was George and his wife my “Uncle Betty” (that I have written so much about), and their kids,
Janet and Larry.
Janet and I have always been close. She is just a year older than me and we were always inseparable at these family events. Larry was a year younger and I was grateful to him because I wasn’t the baby when he was around.
Funny how you can remember things from so long ago and find much that pleasures the mind and soul. So many of those people are gone now, and yet, in my mind I can walk through that house and they all come to life again.
Wonderful, warm memories for a Friday.

4 thoughts on “Memories of Murdock Street”

  1. You couldn’t have been ten? Papa and Grandma moved to the cape when I was in sixth grade or so. When Gramma Elsie died they had already moved. I hadn’t met Ron yet and I met him when I was 13.
    I am amazed you remember things so well about that place. Good memory!!

  2. It’s weird, cause altho I remember the house, I don’t remember seeing you guys there. The only thing I remember is walking up the stairs with that boxer, Pinkie. And marzipan. Very disjointed memories of that place.

  3. Ah, thank you for sharing this blog post again… I loved one of the last sentences:

    So many of those people are gone now, and yet, in my mind I can walk through that house and they all come to life again.

    This is so, so true.

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