13 posts tagged “extended family”
What do you find interesting or unique about your family history?
Here are a few things - perhaps not unique, but interesting, at least to me!
- Our great grandparents on our mom's side (our Mom-Mom's parents) were from the same village in Hungary, though they did not know each other and did not meet until after they had both immigrated to the states. If I am remembering the story correctly, Grandma Meyer was Grandpa Meyer's house help when his first wife was alive. Some time after his first wife passed, they married, but I seem to remember Mom-Mom saying that he never treated her as he should have - that he favored his first wife and wasn't shy about letting her know that.
- The Meyer surname is not actually accurate - it was Mayer, pronounced like the bologna, but they Americanized it - well, all but our Great Uncle Dominic (who I believe was from Grandpa Meyer's first marriage), who retained the original spelling. I have no idea what Grandma Meyer's maiden name was - I wish I did.
- Our great grandmother on our paternal grandmother's side married her childhood sweetheart when she was in her 70's, I believe. She was 98 when she passed, outliving both of her husbands by many years.
- On both sides of our family, the name Charles is very predominant, though only one person goes by "Charles". Here's the count and how we keep it all straight: my father (Charlie), his father (usually went by his last name), my other grandfather (Buck), his son (Chuck or Butch), my mom's cousin (Charles), his son (Chucky), and one of my dad's uncles (Brother). Needless to say, no one in my generation - on either side! - has felt the compulsion to use the name Charles for their progeny.
- Our mom's parents eloped on Thanksgiving day. He was 26 and she was 17 (I think - do I have that right, Janie?). They won't back "home" separately. After a week or so, Mom-Mom spilled the beans to one of her sisters, and I believe that is when word got out. I am not sure what the reaction was or when they actually got a place of their own (maybe one of my sisters can shed some light on that).
- Another "famous" surname within our family tree comes from our dad's side: Hefner. Do you think we could be heirs to either a lunch meat or - *ahem* - other fortune? (Heh. Not likely.)
- When our mother was pregnant with me, she wanted to use Patricia for my first name. Our paternal grandmother thought that was outrageous since our father had been engaged to a Patricia. A year or two later, our parents reconnected with Pat and her hubby. The four became fast - and best - friends for years. I've always found it humorous and ironic that Mom and Pat became such good friends.
Who is ringing in the New Year with you? Who do you wish could be with you, but isn't there?
We started the party early last night with a few of the folks we'll be celebrating with.
Rob fed the inner drummer within with a rousing Dead or Alive (with Steve and Janie rounding out the band).
(And for a guitarist, he didn't do half bad!)
The night culminated with several rounds of Singstar 80s and Singstar Rock. Tonight will be more of the same, with a few others joining in the festivities.
The entire family couldn't join in this year so the folks I'll be embarrassing myself in front of will thankfully be limited.
(Seriously, when the karaoke of Material Girl and Run DMC's It's Tricky garner your high scores of the night, the less to witness such performances, the better.)
I set the alarm clock for 8 AM this morning so I could get up and finish the baking I am doing for my mother's open house this afternoon. Wouldn't you know I'd wake up at about 6:30 AM, lie (or is it lay? I can never remember that grammar rule for some reason...) awake for an hour or so, only to finally fall asleep with only 20-30 minutes before said alarm went off?
Despite that annoying start to my day, two cups of coffee, three final gifts wrapped, and a loaf of banana nut bread later, I can say I am having a pretty darn good Christmas Eve thus far.
I love the way the house smells right now - all bake-y goodness-y. I am still baking - chocolate chip-n-walnut cookies now. I love to bake. I mean, it is kind of a hassle - the gathering and measuring and mixing, but I love the end result. I love that I am actually quite good at it. I don't toot my own horn very often, but I have some signature baked goods that are oft enjoyed by family and friends alike. And that makes me insanely happy.
Much as hanging blinking lights on the entertainment system did this year. If you know me, you know that generally I hate blinking lights. Especially when they don't blink in tandem. It has always been a holiday pet peeve. But this year, I took a string of lights, added blinky bulbs, and draped them over the speakers atop the entertainment system, and for some unexplained reason, they bring me giddy joy in their mis-coordination.
But I digress.
I asked my mother what she needed me to bring for the open house and she didn't give me an answer, so I baked. Bread, cookies, pretzel kisses, and Mom-Mom's walnut cake.
The only thing that could make this day more perfect would be showing up at the parental's and finding Mom-Mom there. This is the second Christmas without her. Last year I adeptly avoided the potential melancholy at her absence by spending the holiday in California with Rob's yuppy parents.
(Which added it's own fun twist to the holiday, but that is another tale for another day.)
This will be the first Christmas Eve I've ever gone to my folks' and she won't be there. Not that we've been able to spend every Eve there - we haven't. We've lived in too many different states and towns over the past 20 years to afford that luxury.
But the Christmas Eve's we've been "home", she has been there. Until this year.
And I will giggle when I take that first bite of her walnut cake. The one she made for so many years until I took over whist she complained that the walnuts were too small or the texture a tad too dry - in the meantime quietly asking for a nice slice to take home.
I wonder if she will giggle too...
Happy Christmas Eve.
Growing up, Thanksgiving was always at our home. Mom threw sewn-together sheets on top of the ping pong table and we all pulled up a seat, eating that scrumptious and bounteous meal on McDonald's seasons plates. We didn't have a lot, but on that particular day, we always had a feast.
Over the years, even after Rob and I moved to various states and cities, Thanksgiving was still held at the parental abode, save a few years when Janie hosted it at her first home just down the street. We were never present for those since we lived half of a country away, and save the years we were able to spend the day with Mar and Rick when they lived in Texas, the day always held a slightly melancholy air for me. We did our best to at least spend the day with close friends if possible. But to me, this holiday is meant to be spent with friends and family crowded around an overflowing table.
And thankfully, this year was just that.
Janie and Steve graciously hosted the meal in their home. This allowed Mar and Rick to participate in a community dinner their church was hosting before heading over, as well as giving Gary and Rob a place to try out their stellar side-dish skills (which, by the way, they both rock at). Steve's non-blogging bro and his family joined us for dessert.
And so, here are a few photos from the day, early on. We unfortunately put away the camera and didn't take it out again the whole trip (we stayed until Saturday afternoon). When and if my Rob transfers the video footage of the four brothers singing karaoke on Friday night, I will post a link to that.
Pooped, that is.
But for good reason. It was a good weekend. Good food, good conversation, and family who are actually good friends.
So pooped or not, it's all good.
As for pictures? Well, I didn't take out the camera - no, not once.
But they did, so you'll just have to wait for them to post.
(No pressure, guys.)
Yikes.
Show us one of your photos that you’d like to print out and frame.
Aren't we adorable?
...my phone rings.
An unknown Maryland
number.
Me: Hello?
Caller: Is this Nicole [insert maiden name here].
Me: It was about 19 years ago.
Caller: Really?
That long?
Me: (with some hesitation, wondering who from my childhood
has tracked me down and how) Yes…
Caller: Well, I am looking for a Nicole [insert
maiden name here] because she has an unpaid credit card balance.
Me: I never had a
credit card under that name. It must be
someone else.
Caller: It is for a Nicole [insert maiden name here]
at [insert my parents’ address]. And there is an unpaid balance.
Me: I haven’t lived
at that address with that name in 19 years.
Caller: Hmm.
Well, this balance is from 22 years ago.
Me: Ah, well, that
couldn’t be me. I would have still been
a minor.
Caller: Oh, they can issue a credit card to whoever
they like.
Me: Well, I really
don’t think it can be me. You have the
wrong Nicole [insert maiden name here].
Caller: There is a co-signer.
(At this point, I am thinking, “Oh crap, what did my parents
do with my social security number?”)
Me: Who is the
co-signer?
Caller: [Insert my
godfather’s name here].
Me: (slight pause)
Uncle Tom?
Caller: (laughter)
I am blaming my gullibility temporary confusion on the fact that last few days of work in the school office has sucked out all of my remaining brain cells.
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