Be Thankful, Grateful, Patient, Charitable, Kind, and don’t forget to smile, as it is infectious
My father (9/24/1915 – 8/12/1976) died about a month shy of his 61st birthday. He had a debilitating stroke when I was two, almost to the day, in 1958, while driving the EL out of 69th street for PTC at the time (Philadelphia Transit Authority before the merger with Red Arrow, forming what is now SEPTA). It was miraculous that he lived then and even more so that he lived almost 19 years afterwards. He would die just 4 days before our first and oldest child was born, with my wife’s water bag breaking as we left his wake. She would be born at around 3:30 am on the morning my dad was buried, 8/16/76.
Mom (8/20/1920 – 4/13/2003), at the time he was buried, would turn 56 just four days later. She would go on to live 27 years, passing away at the age of 83 in April 2003. She would go on to spend time visiting kids, relatives, traveling, and playing cards. She would have both knees replaced, and develop diabetes, which ultimately was the precursor to her moving into a 55 and older community with assisted living (Lima Estates) for her last 7-8 years. While living there, she would still live an active life, making friends, joining their choir, until she developed dementia and needed care in her last two years. It was then that she moved from her studio apartment into assisted living, receiving excellent care.
Both were products of growing up during the Great Depression, WWII, and certainly played their parts in being part of the Greatest Generation.
Without going into great detail, my wife’s family shares a similar background and experiences with mine. My wife’s father was a WWII tank sergeant fighting under George Patton throughout Europe and took part in battles such as the Battle of the Bulge. Our fathers were born just a year apart, and both of our mothers were born in the same year and attended the same high school, West Catholic Girls. A noteworthy memory in my mother’s yearbook features a picture of her in the cafeteria line. What makes this picture special is that my grandmother worked there at the time and is also in it, taken in 1938. I never thought to ask my mother whether the picture was a mere coincidence or planned. Also, about what was seen being sold at the time, olive-and-mayonnaise sandwiches for a nickel?? Yuck!
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