Tag Archives: Family

WQW#42: Senses: Touch or Feeling…

RDP SATURDAY: HUG…

Mother and daughter.

My Mom…

My mother, Maude Louise Littlefield Freeman was born in Waterville, Maine on March 11, 1907. My mother and her mother Albra Mae Flewelling Littlefield Grant Baird.

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The picture below is one of my most favorite pictures of all time…

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A friend asked me once to describe my mother…what was she like, what did she like to do. I pondered this question and found it was sort of a hard one to answer. To me my mother was funny and a little nutsy at times, a trait I’ve happily inherited by the way… she was kind and loving, a hard worker, she adored my dad, and me. She liked to crochet, she made tablecloths and doilies, when I was around 12 she went back to work the bank she had worked in before she got married.

She was a kook in her younger years and I’ve got the photo album that proves it.

The first page says ‘taken during the year 1926’.. most of the photos are of mom and her friends on Martha’s Vineyard…there are a few from NJ as well.   I love how she wrote in white ink on the black pages…and wow, what typical 1926 sayings she wrote.  My mother it seems was turning into a flapper… I love it.

For instance, the picture on the lower left says ‘The Oak Bluffs Sheik “oh daddy” “He’s a hound with the ladies.”  I’m 80% sure I know who that hound was but I’m not telling

It would have been fun to have known my mother when she was that age, to have hung out with her and her friends on the Vineyard, to be in on their inside jokes and what really went on in with the sheik of Oak Bluffs ! Okay, maybe not. Does one really want to know THAT much about their parents, some things are better left unknown.

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Yes indeed, my mother was one of my favorite people to spend time with. Some nights when my dad was working my mom and I would have our favorite supper and speak our ‘silly language’, which was to put ‘S’ in front of every word… it made for gales of laughter from both of us.

She was a strong woman, who suffered with a year long bout of agoraphobia, which for her was fear of leaving the house. She eventually overcame it and then found and reinvented herself and got a job at the bank she had worked for before she got married. I’m proud of her for that and like to think that I got some of that fortitude or spunk from her… I definitely got my quirkiness from her and I thank her for that.

Happy birthday mom…

❤

Sisters First Christmas…

The sisters first Christmas, 54years ago.

Patty and Debbie became sisters on Nov 6, 1966 but they did not meet until Dec 21, 1966.

Dec 1966.. Patty & Debbie

Patty was almost 2 1/2 when Debbie was born.   Deb, who was due the end of December arrived 7 weeks early and didn’t come home from the hospital until Dec 21, the first day of winter, 1966.

As you can see from the picture Patty was delighted and happy to be a big sister.  Debbie, I’m sure was happy to finally be home.

Patty was a terrific big sister right from the beginning.  She helped me take care of Debbie and when I would give Deb her bottle Patty and her new dolly would join us.   Her doll was almost the same size as Deb, Debbie had been only 3 lbs when she was born and had to be 5 lbs before she could come home… so yes, she and the doll were almost the same size.

Since it was so close to Christmas when Deb came home I wanted her to be a surprise to her grandparents when they arrived on Christmas morning.   Patty was under instructions from Santa Claus not to tell anyone that her new sister was home, and since the request was coming from the big guy himself she didn’t utter a word to anyone.

However…   my mother called one evening and just at that moment Debbie, who was in the same room with me, began to cry.  Oh oh.   My mother asked if that was a baby and I said no.  She said she didn’t believe me.  She asked again… ‘is that baby home from the hospital?’   I said yes but that I had wanted to keep her a surprise until Christmas.   My mother kept her composure but I could hear the crack in her voice when she said how happy she was, but that we shouldn’t tell my father… let him be surprised on Christmas morning.

So Christmas morning arrived, along with a 24 hour stomach bug which hit me pretty hard. I managed to get out of bed long enough to greet my parents at the door. Patty was all bubbly and happy to see her grandparents and they were showering her with plenty of attention.

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Then my dad glanced at the tree.   He looked closer.  I could see his eyes moisten when he realized that the baby in the baby carrier under the tree was NOT a doll but his new granddaughter Debbie.    My dad wasn’t one to let his emotions out or show on his face… but he did that morning.

It was definitely a very merry, happy and blessed Christmas that year.

Christmas morning 6 years later in 1972, my favorite Christmas picture of Patty and Debbie…

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Merry Christmas everyone and especially to my girls ❤ ❤

My Christmas On The Vineyard…

To my recollection there is only one time in my life that I spent Christmas on the Vineyard. I was probably around 5 or 6 and my mother and I went to MV to be with my godparents.

Edward and Gertrude Norris (Nana and Pop) were my godparents. They lived part of the year in their house in Oak Bluffs which is where I spent my childhood summers. The other part of the year they lived in Newark, NJ downstairs in the same house we lived in. They were the most important people in my life besides my parents. They never had children of their own and they thought of us as their family. I’m not sure of the actual connection to them except that Nana was my grandmother Albra Mae’s best friend when my grandmother moved to the Vineyard. When my mother graduated from high school on MV in 1926 she moved to Newark, NJ to live with them and to find work.

One Christmas when Nana and Pop were elderly, having health problems and living year round on the Vineyard and missing us my mother decided she and I should go and spend Christmas with them. I was too young to realize this might be the last Christmas for one or both of them, all I knew was that I was going to wake up Christmas morning ON THE VINEYARD. How great would that be. The only glitch was that my dad couldn’t get off work to come with us but he insisted we go. Talk about being torn.

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I seem to remember there was a dusting of snow on Christmas morning… even if there wasn’t I like to think there was.  There were presents… one in particular I remember because I asked for it every year. A nurses kit. It was a white square box with a red cross on the side. Inside were band-aids, gauze bandages, a wooden thermometer and a stethoscope, a name tag… and the most important article.. a nurses cap. I spent the most of the morning bandaging people up whether they wanted to be or not.

All of a sudden I heard a faint knock on the front door !! I ran to open it and let out a shriek… it was my dad standing there with a big smile and a shirt box. A shirt box !! Yes indeed that’s all he had with him. No suitcase. No duffle bag. Just a shirt box with a couple of clean shirts and other essentials in it… he obviously liked to travel light.

It turned out to be one of the most wonderful Christmases of my childhood.

A few years ago I found this letter that my Pop had written to me for my 6th birthday. After Nana died he pretty much lived alone except for the two summer months we spent with him. I loved to listen to his stories of working on the steamships in Massachusetts and later being a bank guard in NJ. Pop couldn’t walk without the aid of a cane and even then couldn’t walk far, certainly no further than the front or back yard. Almost everyday we’d have our lunch together under a tree in the backyard and then in the evening we’d listen to the radio together. He liked programs like ‘The Shadow’ which scared the bejeebers out of me and made it hard for me to walk down the dark and seemingly endlessly long hall to my upstairs bedroom.

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The hardest part of my summers was saying good-bye to him… I wouldn’t cry in front of him but the tears spilled out of my eyes the moment we left the house. I still find it sad and emotional to leave the Vineyard and I’m sure those moments from long ago have a bearing on it.

I am blessed to have the memories of that one Christmas on Martha’s Vineyard and of Nana and Pop, two people who were such an important part of my life.

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Our Family Santa…

For many of the years my dad was a police officer in Newark, NJ he worked in the Emergency Squad division. During the long hours between calls the guys would keep themselves busy in various ways like cooking. Near the Christmas holidays they always came up with a special project, like candle making for instance.

In 1956 they made Santas.  I still have ours.  Santa stands about 3 and 1/2 feet tall and is made from press board. After the outline was drawn the guys cut out the Santas and my dad set to work drawing the features, clothing and bag of toys.  At that point our Santa came home and my mother and I painted him.  I’m not sure how many coats of paint we used but Santa was spread out on our kitchen table for about a week before he was completely dry.  I don’t know what kind of paint we used either but here it is 64 years later and he’s not chipped or faded.  This was the only time I ever remember the three of us doing a family project together.

I love everything about this Santa, even the buttons being on the wrong side… but the thing I love the most is that he looks like my dad… a self portrait so to speak.

My creation

Below is my daughter Patty age 2 and 1/2 in 1966…… and her daughter (my granddaughter) Tiffany age 2 and 1/2 in 1991.

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Here’s to Christmas memories, old and new ❤

Rag Tag Daily Prompt: Uncle…

Never had the right challenge to use my favorite picture of my Uncle Steve for, until today. This picture describes him perfectly, a bit of a comic and a mischief maker. All kids loved him because he was pretty much always one himself.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2020/06/12/rdp-friday-uncle/

Honoring My Great-Grandfather On This Memorial Day 2019…

 Joseph Pettey Littlefield

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My great grandfather Joseph P Littlefield was injured in the Civil War. He was a member of Co. C, 9th Maine Regiment. He was wounded at the battle of Cold Harbor in Virginia and sent home to Maine to die. He died on Sep 3, 1864 of his massive injuries but also of typhoidal pneumonia. His wife and the 3 oldest of his 8 children died within months of him from it as well leaving my grandfather Charles G Littlefield at age 9 the oldest of the five remaining children. A tragic story and once we learned about it felt compelled to find their graves and honor them. Their small plot is off the beaten track in Rome, Maine we found it and traipsed through the brush to get to it. Worth the trip indeed.  This was very emotional in that Joseph, Martha Jane, Margaret, Adison and Atwood have become very real to us and we feel very close to them.  We weren’t able to bring them flowers but left 5 pennies to indicate we were there and remembering them.

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Take a moment to remember the original reason for Memorial Day and the men and women who fought for, and gave their lives for our country.

 

 

Chappaquiddick Lullaby Revisited…

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I think one of the nicest children’s books about MV is “Chappaquiddick Lullaby – a song of Martha’s Vineyard” written in 2006 by Stacy Elizabeth Hall and illustrated by Judith Pfeiffer.

The book also includes a CD by Kate Taylor and Taylor Brown.

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The book is basically about the activities and daydreams that children have during the summer. The illustrations are abundant with Island landmarks and places… you need to read the book several times before you’ve picked out everything included in this rich and lovely book.

One of the things that drew us to this book is that we had our own Chappaquiddick in the family, a Boykin spaniel we called Chappy,  and when we found out that there was a Chappy song, sung no less by Kate Taylor who we, and Chappy, have had the pleasure of meeting, we had to have the book,  which was autographed to my daughter Deb and her Chappy by the author Stacy Hall and her dog, Cala 🙂

(Chappy passed away a few years ago but these precious memories linger on and I’m always happy to share them).

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I also want to mention Stacy’s first book…

“The Legend of Katama” is a beautifully told story of Katama, a brave young Wampanoag woman and how she changed her world.

Interestingly our first Boykin spaniel was named Katama (Katy)… do you see a pattern here:)

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❤

 

 

Favorite Posts of 2018…

January – Weekly Photo Challenge: Silence (click here)

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April – Downtown Newark, New Jersey Walking Tour (click here)

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May – Day Trip to Albany, New York (click here)

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and…

Museum of the American Revolution – Philadelphia, Pa (click here)

 

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July – Sunset Sky (click here)

Heading to New Jersey over the George Washington Bridge at sunset… (does anyone else see 2 eyes and a mouth at the top of the bridge?)  🙂

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August –My Great-Uncle, Louis A Young … The Incredible Man With No Hands…click here)
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October – Maine-Cemeteries and Meanderings, Part I (click here)

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and…

Maine – Meanderings and Museums, Part II (click here)

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December – Photo A Day Challenge, Letter ‘M’ (click here)

Metropolitan Museum of Art – New York City

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There you have it, my favorite posts from 2018… onward to 2019 🙂