Nostalgia

I took a quick trip out to Erie yesterday to see Amy.  Initially the trip was taking up some time in an empty weekend that Jim was away and Ryan was spending at work.  But it quickly turned very nostalgic for me, something I wasn't expecting and didn't really nourish--the feeling just kept overcoming my more practical side. 

On the way out, I decided to stop at St. Bonaventure to see Nanny and Weenie along with some of the other Flynns and Nevins.  It's been a while since I stopped by and it just felt right.  When I pulled into the cemetery, there were so many cars lined up I thought there was a funeral.  But then I was quickly reminded that it was Memorial Day weekend.  The dozens and dozens of little flags were patiently being planted by volunteers in the cemetery in honor of our military history.  I'd kind of forgotten that those flags have to be planted by someone and I'm very grateful to those volunteers for doing so.  I found Nanny and Weenie, cleared the dried cut grass off their marker and had a little moment with them.  I choked up and it took me by great surprise since I'd prepared myself to stop by but those emotions snuck up on me as I was brushing grass aside.  I still miss them.

It was lunchtime so I decided to have lunch in the area.  I ended up at the Burton Hotel in Allegany--the building is on the corner and the exterior still has that dated look.  They should use it for a movie exterior, it's so perfect.  I remember that Dad worked there back in the day and I imagine many misspent hours disappeared within.  It's a small room that you step into and the bar is within arm's reach of the door.  There's a larger room behind this front room and the kitchen is straight back.  I mention this because the new owners told me the interior hasn't changed much over the years.  The bar is the same bar Dad worked at. 
I tried to chat up the owner but they weren't too interested in sharing the history of the place with me.  It was about 12:30 and there was one older guy already at the bar when I got there.  I sat at the bar and had a hamburger--very yummy on this limited menu. 

You can see some of the Art Deco kind of style behind the bar:

They have those little bar glasses I always associate with "the good ole days".  I think this is a particularly pretty piece and wonder if she saw Mom or Dad--I even think I remember Weenie talking about this place.

Off I went to Erie to have some precious one-on-one time with Amy.  It's been a very long time since we've had that opportunity.  Princess likes to sleep in on Sundays (can you imagine such a thing?)  so I had some time to kill.  I decided to take a little road trip westward on Route 5---the same Route 5 we used along Lake Erie.  I was seeking Erie Bluff State Park (sounds intriguing, right?  Don't bother) but found beautiful reminders of our childhood:

 That's Lake Erie in the background.  I find I really miss the sight of vineyards.

 
While it is a fairly flat landscape near the Lake, I did take note of the rolling hills in the Olean area.  Made me wonder how Dad adjusted to this new geography when he came to St. Bonaventure from Gloucester.  Landlocked and hilly.  Refined, not rough and tumble like Gloucester.  I still wonder what led him to even think about St. Bonaventure for college, don't you?  Perhaps because it was exactly opposite--like so many high school grads go for?

Each and every cemetery was busy with activity meant to honor our soldiers.  The most moving thing I saw in one of them was an older man on one knee in front of a grave.  My imagination made up a story that he was missing his father, uncle, son or daughter soldier--he looked very pensive.  It seemed a very private moment and I felt like an intruder.

So many flags--so many volunteers--so many soldiers and sailors!  It was hard not to be moved by it all.

Couldn't leave town without seeing Lake Erie herself.  What memories!  Amy talks about how dirty it can be and I cannot begin to explain to her the difference 50 (!) years has made.

All of these stops put together plus the time with Amy made it an emotional 24 hours that took me by surprise.  But it was very satisfying and I hope the same for your weekend plans, whatever they are. 

Prom season throughout the years

What a joy to see Matthew's smile this morning when I checked my Facebook account:

I noticed he was surrounded by two cute girls with tiaras but Judy talked about getting his picture taken with all the girls from his class at the prom and I thought that's what this was.  Until I saw the crown.  Way to go King Matthew!  This is a GREAT picture and will bring warm wonderful memories for many years to come.

Which, of course, brought me around to thinking about proms.  Poor Mom and Dad with 5 girls and all those proms!  They weren't quite the EVENTS they sometimes are today with limos or after-prom all night parties, but they have always held a special place in high school memories. 

I had one prom experience in high school during my senior year in Walton.  Nanny made my dress for me, bless her.  I thought the green/yellow paisley pattern would be different enough from the typical prom dress that........I don't even know.  I just wanted it to be different.  I think it was.  Looking at it today, I don't know WHAT kind of impression it must have made.  What I do know is that Mom and Dad did not like Glenn one bit.  I think they were somewhat relieved when Kathy got asked to go with Jim Grotevant, a classmate of ours.  If I recall, Kathy had to make her arrangements late in the game. 

 Ruffled shirts were quite the style at the time.  Look how long my hair is!  This was taken outside the school.  Dad attended the prom, supposedly as part of his duties in his job but I know 100% that he needed to check the whole thing out (mostly Glenn).  About an hour after we sent Amy off on her first prom, I sat bolt upright panicked and wondering "How could I send my daughter off with some guy we don't even know?"  I'll give Dad the benefit of the doubt and assume his concerns were similar.  Consider it an early Father's Day gift to him.

This is a classic from 1976.  Of course, I don't have any personal memories of this but isn't this a great picture?  I think that dress Mary Jane is wearing made the rounds for various events.  I think I wore it to a wedding once. 

Prom season 60 (yes, 60) years ago.  I think you've seen this before. No ashtrays these days. Proms were a great deal more formal at the time--there are several dance cards left over from her dancing days.    I don't even know how kids today would fill out a dance card with those group "dances" out in the middle of the floor during today's dances.  Can you imagine?  Matthew and Susie, Kristine, Alice, Jennifer, Kaitlyn, Mallory, Lexie, Katie, Kiersten....I think you get the picture!

I've arranged several proms for Harpursville students and it's a big night for everyone--a tradition I hope lasts for many more generations of students.  Picturing Delaney, Tessa and Tylee right now......(see 1976 picture above!)

This is for Mary Jane.  I like to think she would have noticed the beauty in this too.

May 9 1996 was also a Thursday.  I have to admit that it's freaking me out a little bit to realize that 1996 is the same on the calendar as 2013 which was the same as 1979.  These are such pivotal years for me and they are falling into some kind of mystical alignment.  I'm sure that's some kind of message that I haven't yet been able to decipher.

So that means May 3 1996 was also a Friday.  Happy birthday to our Matthew! 17 is sweet.  Enjoy.

The cicadas are expecting to reappear this year on schedule with their own 17 year cycle, but I don't think that's the mystical connection I'm looking for.  Apparently the stock market has something like a 17 year cycle but I never think about that stuff.  That's about all I could find that comes on a 17 year rotation.  Insects and stocks.  Blech.

But being 17 years old is pretty cool.  That's a good year.  Often  students peak about that time athletically; they have or are getting driver's licenses; they might be earning enough pocket money to rent a limo for the prom; they might be anticipating graduation and the future.  I was 17 when I went off to Geneseo.  Now, I realize how young and naive I was.  At the time, I was keenly aware of my naivete but not of my youth in that great big world of academia and saloons (18 was the legal drinking age in those days).  It was a little bit of a struggle.

I was often the youngest in a group--perhaps by design to offset the role the oldest child plays within the family.  I was young going off to college; I was impossibly young when I started teaching (22!); I am the youngest in my groups of teacher friends.  But now I feel kind of alone and adrift since most of my friends have been enjoying retirement for a number of years now.  Yes, I have younger friends at work but being the oldest once again among the teacher family is not all it is cracked up to be.  Believe me.

So perhaps that is part of the lesson of the mystical 17 year cycle.  Mary Jane was gone too soon-- she was too young.  34 years old (by the way that's 17 x 2) seems an impossibly young age at which to be done on this Earth and sometimes I think we all feel kind of alone and adrift without her.  There's a hole that can never be filled except perhaps by the continuation of the family  with Jess, Sean, Aiden, Breyen, Delaney, Amanda, Heather, Taylor, Tim, Tess and Tylee.