My Uncle Leonard celebrated his 80th birthday over this past weekend. He celebrated for the first time without his twin, Richard, who recently passed away. But the rest of the family gathered around him for Polish food, cake, ice cream and piñata fun.
Below are the remaining patriarchs of my family: My father, Jim; his brother Leonard; his brother-in-law Ted - who will turn 85 on his next birthday; and Uncle David, the youngest brother.
The matriarchs (all except one, my father's sister, Wanda who lives in Savannah) have left this world for a better one - one free of pain, sadness and hardship.
Things are different these days . . . something is missing . . . but I can always look at my own hands to remember the story of the women of my family, for my hands tell the story that has been passed down for generations. For women, our hands, not our faces, tell the real story. (like the quote reads at the end of the latest posting on Sacred Footing)
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
The Elders of our Family Tribe
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
7 comments:
Gotta ya on the hands. Keep them soft and take care of yourself! And the history in your digits.
Happy birthday to your uncle Leonard. It's a wonderfull blessing to have so much wisdom around you.
Stay well and take care, Lindy. We'll all pray and wish for your continued good blessings.
Thanks so much Eric, for your continued support. I really appreciate your coming by and reading and leaving such heartfelt comments.
I will be by to read your latest, beautiful posting.
:)
La familia. Sweet. My last grandparent is 93; everyone else is in their 70s or younger.
I know, Erik, you are so blessed to have your grandma with you. I remember when she celebrated her birthday. She must have so many wonderful stories to tell.
My family (I have a large one) is what gets me through my most difficult times. They are a strong Polish bunch, let me tell you!
I love the idea of hands telling the real story. I've been peering at and into my hands all my life. And there have been so many times when this face felt like a mistranslated text. I have a thousand palm lines, drawing out precise stories, blueprints for how I work.
I keep trying to read their script.
Beautiful, real, post.
*shudder* My generation is the eldest generation of our clan Lindy.
I remember not that long ago when I couldn't scrub the grit and dirt from my hands and now I look at them. No callouses, a few scars, soft as a babies ass and weak as my granny at 105 who went in '96 and my mom 10 years later and that was the last of that generation.
Good lord I guess I am going to have to find a way to like my siblings, because I really don't. If it wasn't the blood we'd have nothing in common.
*shaking head* Well I hope your Uncle Leonard had a hell of a fine birthday.
Peace
TWM aka mark
7:39 PM
Deleted the other cuz it was nonsensical or somethin' like that
Post a Comment