Musings

Today my brother Mark Robert would be 79 years old. He was always a lot older than I (or so it seemed back in the day) but now I can see we aren't that far apart. Old age is more compressed than youth, but you don't find that out until you're in the midst of it.

My mother and I were shopping for Mark's birthday gift one day -- but wait, did I ever tell you that she and I went to town every Friday, did some shopping, ate lunch at a department store basement counter where I invariably had a peanut butter with lettuce sandwich and orange juice? -- and she was tryinig to select a tie for him. They didn't hang on racks then. She would point to one in a glass case and the clerk would take it out and she would study it and she would either like it or not. I was four years old and getting tired of all the study going on, so I helped out by telling the clerk that "the boy is twelve years old," so she could pull out a tie suitable for that age and we could get on and go to lunch. I can remember her telling that story for years.

Sam also was taken shopping by his mother. In fact, in the Ferrara artifacts, there is a newspaper picture of his mother and him walking on Canal Street, all decked out in their Sunday best. Those were the days when ladies wore hat and gloves for shopping and little boys wore dress-up clothes as well. His shopping forays with his mother left him with a lifelong love of shopping, going from one store to another. He used to take the children shopping for clothes at the Mall and they didn't miss very many stores. They always liked going with him because he was tireless, and very patient (for once), and would buy whatever appealed to them, plus treats. Unlike their mother who never could see the point of another pair of tennis shoes or a low-rider pair of jeans when they had a perfectly good pair at home, and never was willing to buy treats. What in this world?

The point of all this nattering is that the joy of my own shopping days with my mother were destined to last me for the rest of my life. To this day I abhor shopping and would rather have a root canal than go into several stores in one day. However, my own children looooove to shop and go as often as they possibly can. Their legacy from their daddy and their grandmother?

Happy Easter to all. I will be at Elizabeth's, watching the grandchildren scramble for plastic eggs loaded with coins and bills. The grownup grandchildren take very seriously the possibility of a $5 or $10 payday and become quite focused and intense, moving fast and possibly a little hostile? Certainly not. Just trying to clear the yard of clutter.