BLANK MIND

I intended to write a blog before my magical trip to see "The Nutcracker," which begins in about an hour and a half, but my mind is a complete blank!! So, I decided to download some pictures to get some ideas stuffed into my blank mind.

As you can see by the picture of Steve and Kobe, our decorating is nearly done. As we dug out the decorations, it was almost as if one of those clouds from a Disney movie with a little genie came floating out as well. So many memories are connected with Christmas decorations. Kobe was a walking Fan Club--"This is way cool, Grandma." He loved the Christmas village and returned to it again and again. He loved our large Magi on their magical camels, and he loooved the snow globes. Such admiration and excitement make hours of decorating well worth the time spent.

I understand that many people are cutting back on all the Christmas hoopla, and I can understand why. In this day and age of hurry, hurry, hurry, the decorating, cards, candy making, and gift giving/making are time consuming and expensive. When I went into the post office with my big pile of Christmas cards, a stranger came up to me, turned up her nose as I shoveled cards in the slot, and said, "I don't do that stuff any more. Too expensive." I suppose it is too expensive, but good memories and good friends aren't. Most of the cards I send are my only link to some relatives and some friends from long ago. I cherish the time that I spent, however brief, to write them a small note of remembrance. To remember that, at some point in our lives, we nurtured a true friendship which has mellowed and fine tuned itself over many years. I don't see many of them as they probably look now, but as they looked when we were together. One letter I received was from the wife of the bishop of our church when I was a young girl. She has to be in her late eighties by now. Whenever I picture her, she is a young woman with long blonde hair who, in my mind, was the epitome of style and grace when I was growing up. I thought of her as the most elegant woman I had ever known. I often remember that she and another lady, Ida Mae Romm, were our youth advisors and would often chaperone us at church dances. Their modus operandi, because boys weren't not allowed to turn down a request for a dance, was to ask a boy to dance, dance with him for a few minutes, and then say, "Oh, I have a sweet young girl I'd like you to meet," and steer him our way--much to our total embarrassment!! Today this lady described her experiences in warding off the loneliness of being a widow after over 50 years of marriage by telling of sitting in her rocking chair and singing all the hymns in the hymnal at the top of her lungs!! Such a memory and picture cannot be dismissed by ignoring Christmas because it's too expensive!!

The other picture is of Tom's father, Tom. (Notice how trendy he was with his tattoos--a decision he regretted later in life when the tattoos became faded and wrinkly, and he felt unsightly.) Grandma Kennedy often compares Grandpa to our brother/son, Tommy, men with a wandering heart and soul. Both Steve and Tom have talked this season about their roots--who they are and what is their heritage. Are we Kennedys Irish? The answer is No, not really. Although all Kennedy family records say that Donald Kennedy, Dad's great-grandfather, was born in Ayrshire, Scotland, I have not yet located the marriage or birth records to verify that information which was found on his death certificate. The Irish in us came from Grandma Whitby's side of the family, through her mother, whose maiden name was Cocheran. I've decided to use this blog, at times to tell you of our ancestry--both Kennedy and Whitby, and so I've posted Grandpa Kennedy's picture and include a small biography written by Grandma Kennedy some years ago:
Personal Writing of Margaret Bailey Kennedy:
Tom was probably best known during his early years for his ability to get into and out of a flight without injuring himself or anyone else--fatally that is. He didn't believe in holding a job or staying in one place long enough to get bored with either.
He married Peggy (Margaret Olive) Bailey during the Depression in 1932. They became the parents of three children: Elizabeth Maxine (Betty), Douglas Allen, and Thomas Gene. The next twenty years were spent shuttling between the mines in Butte, Montana and the machine shops in Keyport, Washington.
Tom suffered a fractured spine in the mines in 1950 and after his release from medical care the family left Butte permanently to make their home in Poulsbo and later in Seattle. Tom went into partnership with Bill in a West Seattle tavern. Later, Tom bought Bill out, taking a former bar maid, Phillis, as her partner. For the first time in his working career, Tom had work which he really enjoyed and an outlet for his particular talents and personality.
In 1968 he sold the tavern and he and Peggy bought a home in Bremerton where he died September, 1972.

None of you remember this fine man, but I do. My most favorite experience with Grandpa was during my courtship days. I had gone to visit Grandpa and Grandma in their little "doll" house which had a white picket fence lining the driveway. When I was ready to leave, I realized that I was totally broke and didn't have the 10 cent fare to get across the toll bridge to West Bremerton. I didn't know Grandpa well, but I asked him for the fare, which he produced with a smile. Then, being the spatial klutz that I am, I backed out of the driveway, taking the entire picket fence with me. I was so embarrassed and tearful, of course. He gathered up the fence with a big smile and cheerfully sent me on my way, telling me not to worry!! Several years later, I found out that he had spent that entire morning restoring the picket fence to its original position because Aunt Marian had taken out the fence only hours before me!! Need I say how much I loved him for that??!!

Well, my bags are packed. Susan and I are on our way; both Dad and Eric are biting their nails--can we really get along without them?? Of course we can!! Cheers, Mom