Blog 4: Mom & Dad

If you read my last post, it was a bit lengthy and I understand that maybe it didn't have all the intrique of a good novel. I do apologize.  But the process of recording history can be challenging and covering a couple of hundred years hard to condense. 

If any of you have taken on the task to build a family tree, you know how difficult it can be.  The gaps in lineage, finding the best sources, hoping that you found the right ancestor can be challenging.  To add to that, most ancestry sites charge to use their data bases.   So, I was surprised to find a site that doesn't charge, and yes it really is free!  Since I found it to be beneficial as well, I am passing the link along.

https://www.familysearch.org/en/ 

I am grateful that I still have friends that knew at least one of my parents. As I get older myself, that is a gift.  

I have so many things running through my mind I would still like to ask them.   I would like to also apologize for dumb things I did in my youth.  If I could offer any advice to younger adults with parents, cherish them.

If you think about it, if one small event was timed differently we wouldn't be here.  A millisecond could change the history of major events.   On a smaller scale,  our parents not finding each other has so many implications.  They would have never created the world we know as our life. Tragedy though, unfortunately follows a similar path of timing.

If I may, I would like to introduce my parents briefly before I move on.

PEARL BRIDGENS:   Born December 15, 1919, Niles, Ohio.   Growing up, my memory starts to put pieces together when I am about 7. Mom was gregarious.  She, like my dad loved to dance. As innocent as it was, she was a bit of a flirt, or at least knew how to work a room.  She loved Hawaii. She liked wearing white.  I suppose white can keep you cooler, but many of her outfits were polyester.    Not that mom was flashy, but she liked to sparkle.  Along with those white outfits, she favored open-toed gold sandals with a slight heel.  She wore very little make-up.  She valued and loved her family.   Mom went to work to save for a house, but she never sought out a career. Not driving changed access for her to many things, but it never seemed to bother her much. She hung on to everything and left a treasure trove of memories for me to uncover once she was gone. More on that later.

 FRANK SHAMROCK:  Born August 12, 1916, Olyphant, Pennsylvania.  Growing up he had many responsibilities and the hardships colored his outlook in some ways and made him careful with money.   He was a good provider, funny, caring, talented and a good housewife.  Actually he and mom shared duties, but he did do the grocery shopping and most of cooking often after a full day's work. He was a good cook too.  He had a good singing voice, and loved Italian opera.  Sometimes when I was much younger, we would stop on the way home from running errands and he would have a beer.  I would play the jukebox, at a nearby table, and he would keep a watchful eye on me a few feet away while I drank my Shirley Temple.  He would tell me not to tell mom, and of course I always did. It took me a while to figure out mom already knew, leaving it to be our little secret.   I don't know what happens to those days but suddenly they stop. He passed away at 58, shortly after my 27th birthday.  

So I think I will pause for now.  I have more stories but will savor them for another time. Now on to our move into our first real home in California.