Near this time in 1969, my parents and I took a red eye flight on Pan American from Boston to Paris, the beginning of a three week vacation in Europe, where we spent time with family and friends. During our stay in Paris, we spent several days in Bobigne with my mother's sister, Lucienne and her husband Felix Schoene. In Nice, we spent time with other relaitives, Morris and Gretel Bodenstein, and her friends, Jenia Gobert and Gizelle. In Locarno Switzerland, we spent time with my mother's half-sister, Sofia, her aunt, Sonua Luban and her son, Boris. In London, where my mother leanred English before she met my dad, we dined at a fine Chinese restaurant with a friend of hers, Velia, and her busband. Last but not least, my parents celebrated their wedding anniversary, which is June 23, at the Elizabethan room.

This is the time of year that my mom took me to the doctor for my annual examination. She was a great believer in preventing problems. When I left home for college, she told me to not drink as much as a drop of tap water.

My mom celebrated Easter very simply, even well into my adulthood, by hiding a treat and say "hot" when I was getting close, and "cold" when I was getting far. More importantly, while I was hearing about eggs and the Eeaster Bunny in school, she was the first to teach me that the special day was about the resurrection of Jesus, which changed my outlook until this day.

Last night, I dined with friends at a fine restaurant, which led me to ponder about my mom's tales about her mom's cooking. I remember being told of her cooking hamburger mixed with bread crumbs and of cous cous.

Among my happiest memories was visiting my aunt Valentine in Lynn, Massachusetts. She was a very gracious hostes. She would serve a three course meal starting with appetizers and ending with a fine dessert. It was there that I was introduced to sardines in the vicinity of 1968, which has been among my favorite foods ever since.

My parents started their lives together in Fairhaven, Massachusetts, and in Boston shortly thereafter. There, my dad completed his bahcelor's degree in electrical engineering at MIT, began working his new profession until he got laid off in or about 1964. I was born in 1958. In 1966, we lived in Newport, Rhode Island and in Middletown in 1969 onward until my mother died in 2005. In 2006, my dad moved to an assisted living place in Attleborough, Massachusetts until he needed to be moved to a sucured unit, about one year leater,which had no vacancies. Fortunately, an affiliated place had what he needed; therefore, he was moved there. He died in 2010 in Framingham, Massachusetts. They got buried in the Juniper Hill cemetary in Bristol, Rhode Island.

My father met my mother in Nice during a trip gifted him by his dad at a USO. It was love at first sight. Her father screened him by examining him on chemistry to be sure he truly was an enginnering student at MIT he claimed to be.

Mom's Passport for Coming to America for Marriage

Mom's Handwritten Recollection of Her Ancestors.

Mom's Wisdom about Church

When I was a youngster, my mother taught me something like, "people are people, God is God, go to church for God not for people." My consistwency of activity in church has been over the decades a major credit to said words of wisdom.

Untimely Harvest

This morning the 20th of February, 2025, I was reminded of this blog by a genealogist, who asked me about "Andy Swanson." I found a reply from as far back as 2012 by Andy, who claimed to be the son of my mother's half-sister, Sonja. I did respond to his reply, and am wondering if he will notice it. My waiting has been making me feel bad for giving up on my blog. I have been feeling like I planted a seed and harvested when it's too late.