Category: Memories

On Valentine’s Day, I gave myself a present. One Year’s subscription to Discovery Plus. I can watch all kinds of shows from cooking to veterinary care, I can watch it all. And best of all? It’s commercial-free!

I’ve been enjoying so many shows, and once I finish binge-watching one show I move on.

A few days ago I held my breath and put on Anthony Bourdain’s “No Reservations”. I wasn’t sure I could deal with it.

You see, Tony died a few years back, by his own hand. In the end, his great depression, which was masked by a quick wit, got the best of him.

In Tony’s show, he went all over the world telling us about the local foods and customs. His humor made us laugh and it also helped us think about how we might fit-in in these various places.

But since that day, in 2018, when Tony died, I haven’t been able to watch a show of his. However, there they were. All of his shows, commercial-free.

So I pulled myself up by my boot-straps and put on the first episode. Before I knew it, I was giggling and smiling and remembering how Tony made us all feel like we were a part of everything.

Oh, Tony. How very much you were cared about and how much you are missed.

I’m watching the long series of shows he left us. And for a moment, Tony is back once again.

Rest in peace, dear friend.

Today would have been my dearest friend, Candy’s birthday. Two years ago I sent her a 3 lb wheel of Vermont Cheddar Cheese and New Hampshire Maple Syrup. The year before I sent her a Red Velvet Cake, her favorite.

I sang her happy birthday and all was well. Neither one of us knew that birthday would be her very last birthday on this earth.

Just over a month later, Candy was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. I will never forget the night she called me. She had just gone to a walk-in clinic for her cough. They x-rayed her lungs and found the masses.

She called me sitting in her car in the parking lot. She knew. I kept trying to explain away what the doctors had found, but Candy being a nurse knew.

How lucky I was to have been her friend all of these years. We could go for a while not talking on the phone and then one of us would call the other and it was like we just talked yesterday. It was always easy to talk to Candy. She understood me in so many ways, that no one else did.

When Candy and her husband visited us back in 2013, they both fell in love with our Greta. So much so that a few months later they got their very own wire-haired dachshund. Aurora went everywhere with Candy and she was the real joy in her life.

Candy was an identical twin. I wrote to her sister Mary and spoke to her last week. Needless to say, she is feeling an unimaginable loss. I knew this would be very hard for her. It never gets easier.

I was not only blessed to have been Candy’s friend all these years but during her last days on this earth, I was able to give back to my friend all that she had given me, by caring for her.

Oh, how I miss this wonderful woman. But as I told her the last time I saw her, “Love never dies, Candy. I will see you next in God’s Garden”.

Happy Heavenly Birthday!

Growing up in my family, a cup of tea was probably the most important thing we shared. For me, our afternoon teas started almost before any of my actual memories do.

When I was not quite four years old, my appendix ruptured and after the surgery, my mother got a call from the nurses in the Pediatric Ward. Oh goodness, Maribeth is not drinking. They’d tried to offer me everything, and I refused.

“Offer her a cup of tea with two sugars and a little milk,” my mother told them. So the nurse did and apparently I perked right up. Yes, I and my tea go back a long way.

All through my youth, we drank tea in the afternoons. When I got home from school, while watching “Dark Shadows”, I would have a cup of tea and a few cookies. I sort of thought everyone did, right?

When I was in 6th grade I moved in with my grandparents, and that’s when the real ritual began. I would go to school each day, and when I came home after grandma’s soap opera was over, we would have our tea, some cookies, and talk. I would tell them all about my day, school, what was happening, and what I thought. And Grandma, Papa, and my Mom, always listened. When my sister was there, she joined us too.

When my grandmother got too old to leave her bed, and we knew her time was drawing near, we gathered our children together and had a tea party. Right there in her bedroom. It was the last time I saw her before she passed.

I continued the tradition of tea, with my Mom, my sister, my cousin, Janet, and my own children. And when my Mom died, my sister had a tea party after her Memorial Service. Complete with beautiful teacups and cookies. Mom would have loved it!

The other day I was watching Pioneer Woman on the Food Channel. Ree and her daughter, Paige were having tea during the show. They had so much fun making up the treats to serve with it too. Eventually, Ree asks her daughter how often she thinks they should do this? And her daughter smiles and says “Every day!”.

And that was when I started to cry. I suddenly missed all those afternoon teas we shared. I missed my Grandma, my Mom, Papa. Those moments, those sweet days have gone by. Aside from my sister, daughter, Mandy, and cousin Janet, the people I shared those days with have gone too.

My love of tea goes on. It’s my link to my past. I’m so very grateful to have it.

Looking back, May 2005 was when I started writing Dackel Princess. Sometimes I like to go back and read my thoughts. It’s been a lot of fun. We all have my cousin, Janet to blame, as she got me into writing, 15 years ago! And even though I have not been as diligent in the last year, I am going to try to be better about keeping my blog up and running. So, here is what I wrote that first day.

As this is the opening day of The Dackel Princess, I would like to welcome everyone to my site! As I write, spring is upon us here in the mountains of New Hampshire. With temperatures in the high 70’s, my apple trees are starting to blossom and the trees on the hill are starting to leaf out. It is so beautiful!

All three dogs have been running around in the yard this morning. Currently, the two dachsies are taking their second nap of the day, (more like one long, long nap) and Fritz is outside asleep on the patio. His favorite spot to be. Me? I’m sitting in front of my computer trying to figure out a new bit of software. So here’s to the first entry! With many more to come!!!

This is Shubi!

 

Baby Greta!

Fritz

Shubi was my very first wire-haired dachshund. She was the love of my life, and I was so grateful for each day we shared. She was with me for ten years before going to Rainbow Bridge. Far too short a time here on earth.

Yes, that is Greta as a baby. Greta grew to “marry” her “husband” Bernie and give us 10 beautiful pups. Two of which are my Arnie and Anneliese. But there she is, just two months old. I still miss that girl.

And Fritz. The most wonderful white shepherd that we have ever had. Gentle, kind, and fiercely loyal, who was with us twelve years and left so very quickly to go to Rainbow Bridge. Our Lili is his niece. She looks a lot like her uncle, but there is a somewhat wild side to Lili that Fritz did not have. Both were/are as gentle as you could hope to find in a German Shepherd.

Anyway, the part in Blue was the original entry. This is the rest of the story. Imagine, 15 years writing their stories and my own? It’s been fun!

I went out today and walked around the cement pad we had poured for the camper. We’d done it the first year we were here.

We put our handprints in the wet cement and our initials.

We had two dogs then. Our old White German Shepherd, Max.

These are his prints.

And the love of our lives, and many others, Shubi.

These are Shubi’s little paw prints.

We loved having their footprints in the cement. It somehow blessed this land that we had decided to call home.

Shubi and Max.

Today, for the first time in many years, I saw their prints, and our hands and remembered all those years ago. I smiled, I cried a little and then was thankful for all that Hubby and I have now, and the three dogs we are blessed to share our life with, but also thankful for the dogs we have known in the past.

Me with my Shubi in the camper.

“And oh how the years go by
And oh how the love brings tears to my eyes
All through the changes the soul never dies
We fight, we laugh, we cry
As the years go by”

Lyrics by: JENNINGS/CLIMIE

I was thinking about my family recently. Growing up, I recall that my mother’s family got together a lot. When I was very young, we all met up at my Grandmother’s House in Brighton, Massachusetts. She had a three-story home, that at one time or another had housed Grandma and Papa Fred; her parents; her sister, Tilly, and Tilly’s son, George; Papa Fred’s sister, Hedwig and her husband Abert; my Mom and Dad; and my Uncle Bob and his wife Cynthia and their two children Carl and Erica.

Now, these people all passed through the house at one time or another, never all at once, but somehow, Murdock Street was the home base for many years.

Family always gathered at Grandma’s house to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays. It was always so much fun. Good food, a lot of laughs, and a lot of hugs. My memories of those long-ago days are still very strong. I recall each family member, be they my Mom’s brother and his family, or all of Papa Fred’s family, as he had many brothers and sisters.

Papa had a heart attack when I was about 10 years old and Grandma and Papa moved closer to us in Falmouth, on Cape Cod. They moved three streets away from us, and I remember running through the woods to their house. The door was always open and they were always happy to see me.

Grandma Honey & Papa Fred

The family parties continued, although I admit, they’d gotten smaller because slowly, the family was dying off. Papa was the youngest in his family and I recall his brothers and sisters passing early on. All except the eldest in the family, Hedwig, and she lived to be very, very, old.

In any case, after a few years, Grandma and Papa needed more help and so they bought a house with my Mom and Dad. It was a beautiful big home. Which meant, the family parties continued.

It was great because All the cousins were getting married and having children, and suddenly the parties were filled with babies, toddlers, and children! There was a small lake down the road and in the summer, during the cookouts, this meant swimming times too!

When parties were planned, everyone came. They came to see Grandma. She really loved family and would plan everything and call everyone. Mom would do most of the cooking, with Uncle Betty by her side, and Uncle George and my Dad were great at flipping burgers and hotdogs.

I can still taste my Mom’s potato salad! And why is it that the watermelon tasted so much better when we were all sitting on the fence spitting seeds?

I miss those days. I miss all those people. I miss the family gatherings when we all were together. They do not happen anymore. My sister Melodie and one cousin, Janet, and I get together twice a year. But gone are the days of those big family gatherings.

Me at my Beach. Surf Drive Beach.

Right now I am trying to establish a time each summer when I share beach time with my grandchildren. I want them to have the Cape Cod experience. I want them to know salty air, sunsets into the ocean, and cookouts that last forever. I want them to spit watermelon seeds while they’re sitting on a fence and Dairy Queen runs on a hot summer night!

So many wonderful memories of my own childhood.