There were two important anniversaries this past week. The first was Mom (the Hamster's namesake) and Pop's, yesterday. I think 46? Wish I had one of their natty photos from the New York period to post here--one where they look like extras off the set of a Rat Pack movie. Dean Martin had nothing on Pop. No wonder they have such attractive children (especially the first two born before the gene pool was seriously depleted). If any of their friends happen to be reading this, please plan on attending the 50th anniversary party four years from now (either a big party if Shawn or Matt makes his fortune, or a wienie roast in the park if they don't).
The other anniversary that must be noted was the passing of Karen Ann Quinlan, twenty-three years ago. Which reminded me of the passing of our own appropriately named Karen Ann, the green 1973 Chevy wagon (vinyl seats, AM/FM radio, roof-rack, extra rear-facing seat in back)--which despite at least two crashes (the guy who rammed us at Liberty Park and the teenage girl who sideswiped me on Guardsman), and a frozen engine block (Bear Lake in January), just kept on living.
Ohh, the memories--riding in the back with the luggage on trips to California, the family reunion at Lake Arrowhead, pop's reluctance to stop for bathroom breaks, eating at Sambo's, getting truckers to honk their horns on I-15 between Las Vegas and San Bernardino--drives to Yellowstone and Bear Lake. Waiting in the car with the windows up ("don't open the doors for anyone!") while mom shopped at K-mart.
A haiku in her honor.
The hole in our hearts will never be filled.
1 comment:
I also remember a drive back from California, riding in the back with the luggage and the huge terracotta pots Mom and Dad picked up. It was a little crowded. Ah, the memories.
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