Jakiela Family – Page 6 – It's All About Family

The World Series Chauffeur

In 1950, my dad was 26 years old, living with his older brother, sister-in-law, and their 2 boys, and working as a house painter.

It was early October and the New York Yankees, defending champions, were in the world series against the Philadelphia Phillies. The Yankees were up 3 games to none and game 4 was on October 7, 1950, at 2:05 pm with Whitey Ford on the mound.

Since my dad’s beloved New York Dodgers were out with an 89-65-1 record, there wasn’t much left for him to cheer about but that never stopped him from watching a game. He just loved baseball and that day was his lucky day.

His brother Steve asked him to drive him and his friends to the game so they could have a few drinks without worrying about driving home and as payment, he would give him a ticket to the game. How could he resist!?

They all saw Whitey Ford, “Chairman of the Board”, emphatically shut the door on the Phillies season pitching 8.2 innings, giving up 7 hits, 2 runs, 1 base on balls, and 7 strikeouts and a 5-2 Yankees win to repeat as World Series Champions.

I think my dad had a very special relationship with his oldest brother, Steve because when their father Charles Jakiela died, Steve was 23 and my dad just turning 11. Steve and Eddie (21) were born before their dad went into WWI, and Helen (15), Walter (13), and my dad were born after. If you want a look back, here is the story of my dear grandmother, Antonia Liro Jakiela. Steve became my dad’s surrogate father and certainly helped to make my dad the wonderful dad he was to us.

The Season of Betty – The End and The Beginning

I started this story over a year ago. I’m not sure it’s made me feel any
better but it’s an unburdening of sorts because we all just put on brave faces
during those 9 weeks. Nine weeks. They go by in the blink of an eye these days but in 1987 it felt like 9 years.

My mother died on Saturday, April 4, 1987, one day before her 65th birthday. It was between 8:30 and 9am. I was sitting on her bed with her and I noticed she’d stop breathing for a couple of beats and then start again. I called for my father to come and let him stay with her while I called my aunts to let them know it was going to be very soon. I’m sure I called my sisters too. I left to pick up my Aunt Tootsie so my parents could be together.

I have debated with myself about the amount of detail for this post. I decided to keep it brief.

We all went with my father to select her casket and plan the funeral. Father Merusi, one of our former priests, who was now in Meriden, requested to perform the mass as he knew my mother well from the Mother’s Circle club and working on and chairing the church Bazaar. The wake was on Monday night and the funeral was on Tuesday morning at Holy Trinity Church in Wallingford. It was very beautiful and for many years I kept the sign-in book and all the cards that we received. I found it comforting to read how people felt about her.

Something very frustrating at the wake was to hear her friends or acquaintances say: “Oh, you know I’d see her at the store and say Hi and she didn’t even acknowledge me”. Or people she worked with in a small office said: “She would fall asleep at her desk during work”. People, if someone is acting strange, find a way to say something to someone!

There was one notable moment for me when the limousine pulled up to the church. Just before we opened the door to exist my father said, “Now I don’t want anyone crying”. It stunned me. I thought “You can’t tell us that!”. I was dry-eyed through the ceremony until I saw my sister’s friend. I don’t know why, but I started sobbing and wasn’t able to stop until we exited the church. Knowing now about my father’s childhood, I’m fairly certain it was what he heard as a soon-to-be 11-year-old boy from his older brother when they buried their father in 1935 after a hit-and-run accident as he walked along Route 5. It must have been so traumatic for him.

After the funeral, we had a gathering at VFW in Wallingford. From there, I recall my father and I going home and some relatives came to the house. He entertained them but I immediately changed into my workout clothes and dashed out of the house to go to the fitness center where I was a member and had gone every night during these 9 weeks. I was ready to and had to, get back to “normal” life.

I read Jhumpa Lahiri’s Unaccustomed Earth last month and there was a short story about a mother’s death from cancer after being ill for a number of years. The young man talked of his grandparents arriving from India and breaking down when they realize their daughter is no longer alive. “….grieving freshly for my mother as neither my father nor I had done. Being with her through her illness day after day had denied us that privilege.”

This passage was like a punch in the nose. I felt guilty for being relieved that I could just be again, because that meant, in my mind, I was relieved my mother had died. I didn’t see it as she was free from suffering, I saw it as I no longer had to take care of her. She’d already left me and I’d already done my mourning when she was diagnosed. When the time came to really mourn her with all her friends and relatives, it was too late. It had passed. I had moved on.

The bright spot going forward was the vacation I had to postpone when she stopped eating was coming up in three weeks! I was all set. I was going with my friend Cindy and my plan was to bring a bunch of books and spend the week lying on the beach reading! HA – little did I know my mother had other plans for me…..!

The Season of Betty – Part 3

Where were we? Oh yes, we left off on my mother’s first night home from the hospital. We moved a bed down to the dining room and set it up for her until my dad got a hospital bed for her.

The next morning, my Aunt Tootsie and Auntie Edna showed up to begin their weekday routine. They would sit working on their crafts, cleaning, making food for my mother, and making us dinner. They knew each other superficially; Aunt Tootsie was my mother’s sister and Auntie Edna was my father’s sister-in-law. My mother and Auntie Edna loved to drive around town hitting tag (garage) sales on the weekend.

Aunt Bea (by marriage), mom, Aunt Tootsie, Grammy seated

My dad and I went off to our jobs knowing my mother was in good hands. I loved my job at Channel 8 so much, it helped me put everything else out of my mind. My boss and friends were so kind about what I was going through.

My dad and I developed a routine of dinner together, then I’d head out to Spa Lady in North Haven for my workout, and when I came home, my dad would head down to the VFW. He came home before 10, and we’d get my mom ready for bed. Gail would come over to help and visit in the evenings too. She and my dad both worked at Gaylord Hospital so they would talk about people they knew.

It became apparent early on that my mother wasn’t going to be mobile for very long. I had to help her to the bathroom when I was home but not realizing how weak she was, I lost grip and bang her head into the wall a couple of times! She would laught and say “it’s ok!” while I was apologizing profusely! It wasn’t long before she was bedridden and using a commode. You don’t realize how capable you are until you have to take care of someone in this way. The first time, I might have gagged and freaked out a little. The second and beyond, no big deal.

I realized it was a small blessing that my boyfriend and I broke up in October. He lived in Hamden and I spent all my time there. If I had still been all wrapped up with him, I’m not sure what my attitude or reaction to all of this change would have been. He was still the first person I called from the hospital though when we got my mother’s diagnosis. I knew he still cared about me and I needed someone to talk to. I knew if I called him for anything during these next months, he’d be there to help me out.

Throughout the 2 months that she was sick, a visiting nurse came to the house 3 times a week. It was comforting to have her come over. A very strange thing happened one time she was there. She was checking my mother out and my mother reached out and rubbed her stomach. Come to find out she was pregnant but not showing yet! How did my mother know?

On weekends, we’d sit with her watching tv and I guess I cooked for the three of us! I definitely don’t remember. I’d go out with my friends either Friday or Saturday especially when Janice came down from Massachusetts because she’d stay overnight. I’d be out very late – I’ll leave it at that!

So diagnosis date was January 31, 1987 and we were advised by the nurse that we’d know the final stage when my mother stopped eating. Well, that happened on a Sunday in March and it must have been March 15th because I was heading to the St. Patrick’s Day parade in New Haven. Oh, I tried to make her eat! It was like trying to feed an infant who didn’t want to eat but without the crying (ok, I was), and head shaking. I just could not get her to eat. How long can someone go without eating? Long enough if they are still drinking fluids, which she was.

t was quite the afternoon and evening at the parade. These were the days when you could walk out of the bar with a drink and watch the parade!

But I had a decision to make. I was scheduled to go on a vacation with five other girls to Jamaica in a couple of weeks! It was a trip planned before she got sick. There was no doubt in my mind that I would cancel the trip. It would have been foolish to go and expect every minute to get a phone call telling me she had died. I was selfish at times but not that much! Another friend was trying to join our trip so we decided to wait until after my mother passed away and go together. It was a fateful decision.

I’m going to leave off here and pick up in another post – soon, I promise.

The Season of Betty – About Betty Part 2

My previous post was about my mother, Betty, about her life growing up and how she lived. This one is about her and what I remember. Most of the time period I’m talking about here is from the early 60s through 1987 when she died.

My mother was casual. She didn’t have jobs where she had to wear business clothes. She didn’t wear jeans (I don’t think she ever had a pair?!), but she wore comfortable clothes. She wore dresses to church every week along with a hat until we didn’t have to wear them anymore. In our 20s, my dad would give us money to go Christmas shopping for clothes for her. I think we did a pretty good job! We would find pants and nice tops and sweaters. She always seemed happy to get them and wore them so I guess she did! I liked doing that.

My mother didn’t wear makeup. She probably had some 20-year-old stuff hanging around and I remember one time Janice put it on her when she was going out. That must be why I have no idea (or think I have no idea) how to put it on!

My mother was LOUD! When we were young and playing in the neighborhood, she would WHISTLE for us. Like dogs! And you could hear it from just about any area of the circle (picture houses in the middle and the street is a circle around them). So embarrassing.! And when she went to football or basketball games when we were in high school her yell was so loud! My sisters and I of course, now are probably just as loud as she was!

My mother was friendly. When she went to track meets, I remember kids sitting with her and talking and she was always friendly to them. In my teenage brain I’d be saying “ugh”, but looking back, she set that example for us. I think all three of us are very comfortable and interested in what young people have to say.

My mom was involved in our school working at book sales, as part of the Mothers Circle at church, as part of the Mother of Twins Club, and with our Brownie and Girl Scout troops. But she didn’t get involved with any sports politics or try to ingratiate herself with any coaches (ok, only cheerleading coach), and when I felt the need to defend myself or my sister she was fine with it.

My dad would take us on walks or bike rides on Sundays around town to give her some time alone. I’m sure she never had to suggest it, he was more than willing, but I’m sure she really appreciated it! I imagine we three were pretty exhausting.

SHE WAS A READER! I feel like that deserves all caps. She had more books and magazines than even I have ever had! There were 2 bookcases at her childhood home on Clifton Street full of books that I’m sure were all hers. She was a member of the Readers Digest Condensed Books program with 4 books a year and each contained 4-5 books. Nancy Drew, Cherry Ames, and other teenage girl book series were on those shelves! I think some might have been above our reading maturity level, but we read them anyway and she didn’t stop us! She subscribed to 3 or 4 magazines a month that were collected on the end tables through the year(s). She would buy years worth of National Geographic magazines at tag sales. She just loved the written word. I can clearly see her sitting at the table for breakfast with a book in her lap, drinking her coffee, and eating toast. There was never a book or magazine not by her side.

She and her siblings stayed close both in their physical locations and by gathering together. They all continued to live in Wallingford and raise their families and we always got together for Christmas, Easter, and kids’ birthday parties. I’m glad they did that. It could have gone a lot differently because of the age difference in all the kids, but with her niece (Judy) having her first child (Ann) only one year after us twins, it gave them all a new connection. She was particularly close to Aunt Tootsie who was like her second mother and Uncle Connie who was unmarried until the early 1960s when she married Auntie Ann who had 2 adult children and they lived right next to Kendrick Park so we so them very often stopping in for his delicious baked treats!

She was a good woman and a good mother and she lead by example rather than telling us what to do and how we should be as we grew up. I think that sticks more than words!

The Season of Betty Part 1

I think I’ve always wanted to put this period of time in writing because it was a huge turning point in my life. It was the end of me and the beginning of me all rolled into one.

My mother, Betty, started acting oddly in the fall of 1986. She and my father took a trip to Ireland that she WON on St. Patrick’s Day that March through WELI radio. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was upstairs after taking a shower, hearing a shout and a crash, and immediately thinking “oh my God, they said her name!”. And yes, they did, and they hung up on her because she was so excited! The trip was great and they had a wonderful time together but shortly after that, she became more forgetful than usual.

By 1986, I was the only daughter living at home and my three-plus-year relationship had ended in October. Which was probably for the best with what lie ahead. December rolled around and I noticed she hadn’t done any Christmas shopping. She always shopped for all of us and would have stacks of presents on Christmas morning (sometimes wrapping until the early hours!). It took her out to the stores in Hamden and we shopped for everyone, including me!

The holiday went well and we all got together again that week because Aunt Judy and Uncle Mal were in town. I went to work in the morning and then headed over in the afternoon and Mom was home and was coming on her own. We waited, and waited. When we called, she said she was coming, she’d be there soon and we waited some more. When she finally came, she fell asleep on the couch head back in the crowd of people.

After the first of the year, things just got stranger. All my life, Sunday mornings we went to church for 9:15 mass. But suddenly, she’d still be sitting reading the paper at 9 am. We’d hustle her up to get ready and we’d barely make it. Another Sunday, it was Auntie Edna’s surprise birthday party at the Knight’s hall and we barely made it before the guest of honor!

I worked at Channel 8 in the Programming Department and I would come in every morning and laugh and say “oh my God you won’t believe what my mother did last night!”. Until one day I came in and said to my boss “I think there’s something wrong with my mother”, and burst into tears. Larry Manne, bless his soul, rolled with it, listened, and gave me a hug.

Shortly after that, Gail and I reached out to our cousin Judy Behme. Judy was our first cousin and my godmother and her kids were our age and she was someone we always knew we could turn to. I was at Judy’s house and we were on the phone with Gail trying to figure out what was going on. I think at one point an actual thought we all agreed on was “I hope it’s a brain tumor and not Alzheimer’s” because, with a tumor, there could be surgery and recovery! Little did we know….

Mystery Solved!

FACEBOOK – March 22, 2014

I’m sucked back into my family search on Ancestry.com

Poor great-uncle Bronislaw Liro and his wife Mary. They became a reality last night when their marriage record popped up – but nothing else.

Then a quick google search of his name gave me two deaths – one for their son at 8 days old of infant cholera, and another for their daughter at 8 months old (4 years later) of Infant Cholera.

And not a trace of them anywhere else going forward. It’s always 1 step forward and 2 steps back.

This post written in 2014 popped up for me the other day on Facebook. I’d forgotten all about it posting it and want to share what I found out a few years later.

Just some background – I had the names of Louis, Joseph, and Mitchell Liro floating around in my research notebooks because their Massachusetts locations fit with what I knew about Bronislaw. I might have sent a letter to one of them with no response.

“Joseph Liro” popped up as a DNA match in 2017 and I sent him a message through Ancestry. Sadly, not many people respond to messages! But I got lucky this time.

Joseph is the grandson of Bronislaw and Maria! Here’s a refresher on Bronislaw and Maria:

Bronislaw was born in 1881 and immigrated to the US in 1905, and headed to Three Rivers, Mass his older sister Aniela and her husband Josef Mikula.

Maria came to the US expecting to be joined by her sweetheart but she never heard from him, met Bronislaw and married him. Then oops! Turns out the sweetheart had trouble raising the money for his passage and when he finally made it to the U.S. Maria was already married to Bronislaw.

They were married sometime prior to 1908. They had a son John who died at 6 days old in August of 1908 of Infant Cholera. Joseph’s father Louis was born in 1909. A daughter Katy in 1911 was 6 months old in July of 1912 when she died of Infant Cholera. Following that, Mitchell Stanley was born in 1913.

So right there, Joseph brought together the names that have been circling around each other all these years!

Two to three years later (1915 or 16), Bronislaw and Maria (unlike my grandparents and great aunt and uncle) have a little nest egg from working in the textile mills and decide to GO BACK TO POLAND.

We all know what happened shortly after that – World War I broke out. Bronislaw fought in the Austrian Army and the “victorious Soviets” took him prisoner and sent him to Siberia.

As the war raged on, Maria was afraid that her sons, Louis and Mitchell would be called up to fight in the Polish Civil War even though they were American citizens, so she sent them back to the United States to live with a friend of hers.

In the late 1920s/early 1930s, Bronislaw escaped Siberia where he tended the horses at the camp. He appeared at the family farm in the village of Turza in southeastern Poland saying “I escaped and have come home”. Life went on and they had more children.

What happened to Louis and Mitchell? It sounds like Louis never saw his father again because he never went back to Poland. Mitchell fought in Italy during WWII and traveled through Poland but I don’t know if Bronislaw was still alive or if he went to their home.

After WWII, Maria came to the United States for a short visit, lived with Louis and his family but she returned to Poland in 1962 “to die”. Louis traveled to Poland often in the 80s and 90s and met his Aunt Katarzyna and her children and visited his grandparents’ graves.

Based on their birthdates and the dates of WWI, Louis and Mitchell would have been young when the war broke out! Louis said, “my father and his brother were so grateful to this woman (who took them in) that they had her buried in our family plot in Indian Orchard, Mass. which is a neighborhood in Springfield. I think it’s sort of a Yalesville to our Wallingford.

So that’s the story of Bronislaw and Maria. They all lived years longer than Aniela and Antonia but it was still fraught with heartache.

The Letter From Poland

Two years ago while cleaning out my Auntie Helen’s apartment after she passed away, I found a letter from her uncle Antoni Jakiela among her papers. It was dated January 19, 1947 and addressed to her brother Steve.

Letter from Antoni

It was such a shock to find it and I made feeble attempts over the last couple of years to get it translated. I even attempted myself with the help of Google but gave up quickly.

A couple of weeks ago I reached out again to Facebook and my friend Amy, my cousin Jim and friend Andrea quickly came to the rescue. I emailed a copy out to everyone and Amy’s co-worker jumped on it and nearly had it done that day!

I received the transcribed letter back and was sad to read how the war had affected him and his family. There was a sweetness to the letter and the questions he asked. I did discover three new family members when he talked about his sons but I don’t know what became of them or if they had families of their own. I’ll keep searching!

Antoni Letter Transcribed

Signs From My Father

Leaving me dimes and sending me cardinals

Growing up my sisters and I heard about and saw pictures of our parents at the El Rancho Motel in Myrtle Beach South Carolina. They went there on their honeymoon and went again with my dad’s sister Helen and her husband Ticker. They loved it there, and we loved looking at the pictures over and over again.

It’s no longer there but a search on the internet had this to say: “The sprawling grounds included 75 air-conditioned rooms with over 250-person capacity, car shelters, outdoor grilles and room service, a meeting room, and an adjoining restaurant. The palms and pines-wooded lot also included an 18-hole putting green, shuffleboard, ping pong, and their distinctive illuminated swimming pool, measuring 90′ x 40′, with a small island in the middle with palm trees.” From that description I know why they loved it – heck I would too!

Last year and a few week ago, my husband and I spent a week in Surfside Beach, South Carolina which is just one town south of Myrtle Beach.

My mind was on planning and packing all the week before we left and we were doing a lot of weather watching and worrying whether we’d have sun or a week of rain. It was evident my father wanted me to know he was thinking about our trip too when I reached my hand up in the shower to get the soap – and put my hand on a dime! In the shower! Boy that was weird….

We broke the trip down there into two days this time so we wouldn’t be burnt out and stopped in La Plata MD which is about halfway. It was a Best Western and I have a membership card. I stuck my hand in my pocketbook to get my card holder and came up with a dime STUCK to my card holder!

I said “Daddy you are tricky! I know you’re with us!”

Once we got there we spent a lot of time on the balcony of the condo where we were on the 3rd floor. It was relaxing looking at the water or just listening to the sound while reading our books. While sitting there one day I heard a very familiar bird sound…..

Sure enough – there’s a cardinal sitting there saying hello. He showed himself during the week and finally, on the last day of our visit while I was sitting on the couch, I looking up and he was was fluttering around at our balcony rail! He sat for a second and then flew off.

I can hear my father saying “That was a good time Nanc – I’m glad you had fun”.

Charles Jakiela in World War I

Proud to fight for his adopted country

My grandfather, Charles Jakiela immigrated to the United States from Lubatowa Poland in 1905. He was married with two children when the time came in June of 1917 to register for the draft.

005206224_00756

Although he could have, he chose not to claim an exemption and left his wife, Antonia and two sons – Steven, 4 years old and Edward, 2 – behind in Southington Connecticut when he headed to Camp Devens in Ayer Massachusetts. When asked why he enlisted when he could have been exempt he said it was because “he loved his country”.

The construction of Fort Devens started in early June, 1917, and was performed by a labor force of 5,000 workers which in just 10 weeks built a small city consisting of 1400 buildings, 20 miles of road, 400 miles of electric wiring and 60 miles of heating pipes in addition to water and sewer service. Due to the speed of its development, Camp Devens formally opened at the beginning of September, 1917. It was the first of 16 National Army cantonments to be completed in the country, processing and training more than 100,000 soldiers of the 76^th and 12^th Divisions from 1917-1919. (from http://www.worldwar1letters.wordpress.com). It was here at Camp Devens that Charles became a United States Citizen.

Charles_citizenship_0001

Fun fact – 31 Liberty Street in Southington listed on the Certificate is the same location that cousin Steve Jakiela had his deli and catering business – Liberty Deli!

Based on his headstone, I knew that he was in Battery C 302nd F.A. (field artillary). I really didn’t give it much thought until I saw Bill O’Reilly on an episode of Finding Your Roots and the host, Henry Gates, talked to him about his grandfather who was in the a division of the army out of New York and they talked about how he fought in the Meuse-Argonne Offense in October-November of 1918. Something just made me start looking again because I knew there had to be more information for Charles’s service.

I found out that the 302nd field artillary regiment was part of the 151st Field Artillery, which was part of the 76th Division, which was part of the 5th Army Corps commanded by Major General Omar Bundy. The 302nd field artillary regiment were trained with the 4.7″ artillery guns. I also found the following online:

Seventy-Sixth Division (National Army)

Known as the “Liberty Bell Division.” Insignia is a blue liberty bell superimposed on a khaki square. Organized at Camp Devens, Mass., in Sept., .1917. The division was composed of National Army drafts from Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Rhode Island and Connecticut. The first units embarked for overseas on July 5, 1918, and the last units arrived in France on July 31, 1918. Upon arrival in France the division was designated as a depot division and ordered to the St. Aignan area. Here the division was broken up, training cadres were formed and the personnel used as replacements for combat divisions at the front. The special units, such as the Signal Battalion and Sanitary Troops, were sent forward as corps and army troops.

Commanding generals: Maj.Gen. H. F. Hodges,. Aug. 25 to Nov. 27, 1917; Brig. Gen. Wm. Wiegel, Nov. 27, 1917 to Feb. 13, 1918; Maj. Gen. H. F. Hodges, Feb.13 to Nov. 11,1918.

This division was composed of the following organizations: 15ast and 152nd Inf. Brigs.; 301st, 302nd, 303rd, 304th Inf. Regts.; 301st, 302d, 303d Machine Gun Bns.; 301st, 302d, 303d Fld. Arty. Regts.; 301st Trench Mortar Battery; 301st Engr. Regt. and Train; 301st Fld. Sig. Bn.; 301st Hqs. Train and M. P.; 301st Amm. Train; 301st Supply Train; 301st Sanitary Train (301st, 302d, 303d and 304th Field Hospitals and Amb. Cos.).

I also found somewhere else (really should have written websites down!) that the 302d and 303d FA Regiments were in the St. Mihiel Sector from 11/2-11/11/18.

He survived his time in France, although I’m told he was heavily gassed, only to have disaster strike on the way home. According to both Auntie Helen and Uncle Eddie, on the way out of France (England?-It was never said where), as the train the troops were on went over a trestle, a previously unexploded bomb exploded! Charles landed in a brook and his head was smashed. Auntie Helen said he had a scar from the front of his head down the back. A man from Bristol saved him. Once they arrived home, every Saturday night “four guys on motorcycles” came to their South Center Street home in Southington to visit. Auntie Helen said he received a pension because of his injury and he would routinely write letters to the government because they wanted to cut his pension!

In 2002, I requested and received a Certification of Military Service for Charles which told me he was in the Army from October 4 of 1917 to April 30, 1919. Unfortunately, in 1973, there was a fire in the area that destroyed a major portion of records for Army military personnel from 1912 through 1959.

Charles_military_discharge

He died at age 45 when Steve the oldest was 23 and John the youngest was turning 11. But that’s a story for another time. He’s buried in St. John’s cemetery. If you go in the lower driveway to the end and the road curves to the left, he’s at the top of the hill on the right. John always made sure there was an American flag by his headstone. I think I will see that there always is.

Charles_headstone

Easter Through The Years

Remembering the traditions passed down through generations.

Easter memories include:

Church on Easter Sunday morning in our finest Spring clothes – usually freezing because it wasn’t quite as warm as the outfits were designed for!;

Jakiela girls easter 64 — Jakiela Girls Easter 1964

Easter baskets with candy!;
Brunch after mass either at 121 Clifton Street or our house, Aunt Judy’s or Auntie Irene’s that would be eaten in shifts as families came and went…and usually involved a second round of food;

Pierogies, stuffed cabbage, hungarian cookies, kielbasa, ham, horseradish, hard rolls, rye bread with seeds, babka – my mouth is watering!;

One Easter in the 1970s that was so warm and it was conveniently at Aunt Judy’s down the street that we came back to our house, got our bathing suits on and laid out in the sun!;
An Easter Sunday that fell on Gail’s and my birthday and we got to carry the gifts to the alter;
Our first Easter without Mommy and it was at the Behme’s house and Judy had a birthday cake for Gail and me because our birthday was a week or so later;
Celebrating Easter with Cody, coloring eggs and going to Easter egg hunts (and I wasn’t knocking kids down to get candy for him!);

Cody_easter_egg_hunt_0001 — Cody and Wyatt 1993

Easter at cousin Joan’s house with all the kids hunting for the Golden Egg and having the Easter Bunny appear!;

Easter_at_Joans_0001 — Easter at Joan Jakiela’s 1997

Our first Easter without Daddy after he passed away on Palm Sunday in 2010 and Gail’s description of him entering the gates of heaven and everyone cheering for his arrival;
The traditions we continue with our families and pass down to our children that we hope they will continue when we are no longer with them.