Sentimental Journey

SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY

July 5, 2009

            "Mom, what are we doing for Mike's big 50?" my daughter, Cindy, inquired.  She is the eldest of my 5 children, followed by 4 brothers.  On her 50th birthday several years ago, her brothers wanted to do something special for her.  They each wrote her a letter, sharing some of their memories with her, and included a few pictures.  Her brother Mike put everything together in an album.  It was quite touch and is deeply cherished.

            When Kevin turned 50, he and his family had just moved to Missouri.  Not long after this move, his wife, Ellen, was diagnosed with incurable brain cancer.  She spent her last months in a hospital bed in their living room.  She knew it would be her last birthday with him and, from her bed, planned a surprise for him and sought our help.  His favorite food had been Combine's pasta sauce and Yuengling beer.  Combines don't sell their sauce, but after we told them the circumstances, they graciously supplied us with several quarts.  We carefully wrapped the case of beer and sent it to Missouri.  We made him the traditional album, with letters and pictures.  Then we all flew there, with the album and sauce, to celebrate this happy/sad day with them.

            Now we needed something special for Mike.  Again we all wrote letters.  Cindy suggested the highlight might be a surprise tour through the Sharpsville Pierce Avenue home where they all grew up.  It was actually the original Murray homestead.  My husband was born there and grew up there with his 5 siblings.  The yard had several terraces which, I am told, were hand shoveled and formed by my husband's father.  The empty lot on the side of the house was a constant ball field for my husband in his youth, and again for my children.

            The present owners were very gracious about our intrusion, which had been planned several months before.  Walking up the front steps and onto our beloved porch was heart stopping.  Quite a few changes had been made, of course, and all for the better.  I did not see the flowered wallpaper now in the living room-I saw the pale green walls and my son Pat sitting in a slip-covered rocking chair, teasing our dog Mindy with pieces of his breakfast toast.  It had been a morning ritual.

            I did not see the newly varnished window seat in the dining room-I saw the faded wood and a black telephone sitting in one corner with the thin phone book underneath.  I saw the three large drawers under the large seat, one with coloring books, crayons and small toys, one with winter gloves and scarves and one with household supplies.

            I did not see the empty view from the kitchen window.  I saw the large spreading tree, now gone, with perfect branches, one of my sons sitting peacefully on the lowest.  I saw the large, L-shaped sandbox built by my husband, where my children played for hours, their bare feet hidden in the sand.  I saw my wonderful, now deceased, neighbor, Mrs. Gory, standing by her back door holding a loaf of her freshly made bread for us, waiting for one of my sons.

            I did not see the curtain covering the small window by the stairs.  I saw myself standing on the first step, checking on my children playing in the yard.  When they played football, I would holler, "Play touchy, not tackle," knowing that when I turned my head they tackled anyway.  When they would sled ride down the perfectly slanted hill, I would holler, "Steer toward the terrace, not the street."  I did not see the smooth grass in the lot.  I saw only four bare spots-home place and three bases.

           I did not see the freshly blacktopped driveway.  Instead, I heard the sound of our car crunching to rest on the loose gravel.

            I have read that it is to live twice when we can enjoy the recollections of our former lives.  We departed with a very satisfied, tender feeling.  I think somehow we were able to remember all the happy times on our sentimental journey.

Joanne Murray is my cousin.  She sent me a book her son made for her 75th Birthday.  It contained essays that Joanne had written.  In the interest of bias, I am definitely biased so let's get that out of the way.  But once you and I get passed my bias you come to realize as I have that these essays are something very special especially to her family and THAT IS THE POINT.  As I read them the one of many thoughts that crept into my mind was "why haven't I been doing this?"  Why indeed!  These are thoughts of a daughter, a granddaughter, a mother, a wife, a cousin (like in my case), an aunt etc.  Most who will read these essays have that in common with Joanne.  There are people you know who might enjoy knowing what you think and what experiences you have been exposed to.  Wouldn't it be nice if you let them know by writing them down as my cousin Joanne has done.  It's never too late to get started.  I will be posting them here about one a week and do so with Joanne's permission.  Hope you keep coming back.  Leave your comments below.    Jim "Gymbeaux" Brown