I'm 76 years old right now and "time" is only NOW.
Yesterday could be as long ago as when I turned 70. How can 6 years have gone by since then! When the doctor asks "when did this problem start?" I have no idea whether it started a week ago or a month ago or 6 years ago.
The past is just history -- and maybe partly fiction -- something to remember and hopefully to learn a lesson from -- but it doesn't exist anymore. My memories are just mine and they may not be the same as the memories of the people around me. How odd it is to hear someone talk about something that I either don't remember at all or that I remember differently.
The future may or may not come for me on this Earth. It's just a hope or a dream. With a little luck I'll still be mobile and able to read and have enough of a memory to not be a burden to my children for the rest of my life. And with a little more luck I won't be completely out of money before I die.
Only today is real.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Saturday, January 7, 2012
My father
My father was a kind-hearted, smart, and generous man who could fix anything. He also loved to argue and tease, so forget sainthood! but I always thought of him as a "gentle giant".
He was born in New Jersey, but his own father returned to Kiev soon after that. His mother then married a widower with several children and they had several more but she died in childbirth. "Grandpa" sent the babies off to one relative until they were old enough to join the others on my dad's aunt's farm in Huntsburg. He kept the older ones at home with him.
Before my grandmother died my father had a Russian Orthodox education in Cleveland where he learned what he called "high Russian" besides the dialect spoken at home.
My dad worked on the farm and graduated from high school there. He was a good student and was offered a 1-year college scholarship which he refused because he couldn't imagine being able to complete a degree. He was a quarterback on the high school football team and enjoyed talking about it.
He also worked for a neighbor who gave him an old car in exchange for his work, but his uncle took it away from him -- part of his feeling that he had no prospects, I suppose. He tried "riding the rails" but didn't get very far.
He was a handsome young man when he met my mother, an older woman whose brother was married to one of his Huntsburg cousins. After they got married they lived with "Grandpa" for a while until I was about a year old. "Grandpa" lived nearly all his life in the USA, but never spoke English very well. Daddy always talked to him in Russian and I suppose his own children did the same, but all my aunts and uncles spoke English -- that's my excuse for never learning Russian.
They rented a house where we lived until I was eleven. When the landlord sold the house they found a house to buy and proceeded to fix it up. My mom and dad were willing to tackle any project and worked very hard to repair and remodel the house. They lived there until Daddy retired and they moved to Florida. Mom's sister and older brother had mobile homes and they were all neighbors -- a nice way to relocate but keep your family close.
More to come...
He was born in New Jersey, but his own father returned to Kiev soon after that. His mother then married a widower with several children and they had several more but she died in childbirth. "Grandpa" sent the babies off to one relative until they were old enough to join the others on my dad's aunt's farm in Huntsburg. He kept the older ones at home with him.
Before my grandmother died my father had a Russian Orthodox education in Cleveland where he learned what he called "high Russian" besides the dialect spoken at home.
My dad worked on the farm and graduated from high school there. He was a good student and was offered a 1-year college scholarship which he refused because he couldn't imagine being able to complete a degree. He was a quarterback on the high school football team and enjoyed talking about it.
He also worked for a neighbor who gave him an old car in exchange for his work, but his uncle took it away from him -- part of his feeling that he had no prospects, I suppose. He tried "riding the rails" but didn't get very far.
He was a handsome young man when he met my mother, an older woman whose brother was married to one of his Huntsburg cousins. After they got married they lived with "Grandpa" for a while until I was about a year old. "Grandpa" lived nearly all his life in the USA, but never spoke English very well. Daddy always talked to him in Russian and I suppose his own children did the same, but all my aunts and uncles spoke English -- that's my excuse for never learning Russian.
They rented a house where we lived until I was eleven. When the landlord sold the house they found a house to buy and proceeded to fix it up. My mom and dad were willing to tackle any project and worked very hard to repair and remodel the house. They lived there until Daddy retired and they moved to Florida. Mom's sister and older brother had mobile homes and they were all neighbors -- a nice way to relocate but keep your family close.
More to come...
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
How sudden the end comes
Once more I've had a serious medical problem that put me in the hospital for about a week, but I escaped the final "diagnosis". I am reminded that I need to put my affairs in reasonable order for my children to deal with my death.
When my father died he had come to Ohio from Florida to visit for the summer, but he knew that death could come at any time and he brought all his important papers with him in a strongbox -- that was just like him to be considerate of others. So I need to try to follow his example and make things easy for my children when I die.
This year's blog (2012) will hold an occasional musing about life and family with a few photographs thrown in if I can get my energy back and start shooting again.
When my father died he had come to Ohio from Florida to visit for the summer, but he knew that death could come at any time and he brought all his important papers with him in a strongbox -- that was just like him to be considerate of others. So I need to try to follow his example and make things easy for my children when I die.
This year's blog (2012) will hold an occasional musing about life and family with a few photographs thrown in if I can get my energy back and start shooting again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)