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An interesting facet/possible "mystery" of oral family history.
My mother used to relate a lot about what she considered to be her/our colorful and somewhat illustrious family history. Over the years since her death I've had cause to question some of it. She had been raised in the lap of luxury and privilege until her father, my grandfather, who owned a Madison Avenue advertising agency lost everything in the crash of 1929. Still, she was somewhat of a Westchester County, New York snob. Thus some embellishment.
Here's one example as related and believed by my mother. My grandfather was a prodigious sailor and president of two renowned yacht clubs. Everyone referred to him as "The Skipper" which is how I was raised to do as well. He died before my parents married and I came along.
During WW II he was pressed into the Merchant Marine and commanded Liberty Ships bringing supplies and soldiers to Europe. During one such trip he went to the rescue of another ship that had gone aground on some rocks in the North Sea. The story was that he worked for three straight days and nights supervising his crew as it moved men and supplies from the stricken ship to his own and because of the strain, died of a heart attack and was buried at sea. This is what she was told by her mother, my grandmother.
The real story was a bit different as related by my older cousin who our grandmother's favorite as she lived in a cottage my aunt and uncle owned just steps from my cousin's home and helped raise him. What really happened is that my grandfather, who became an alcoholic due to The Crash and the loss of his agency, was drunk, fell overboard and drowned. It's doubtful that his body was ever recovered. The story of his "heroics" was conjured up by his significantly well-connected and wealthy yacht club members so my grandmother would receive a widow's pension from the Merchant Marine. It worked.
Had my mother still been alive when I got the real story I would not have related it to her and burst her bubble. Of course, I now question many of her other tales. More research to do!
My mom and I were best friends and even though she's been gone 8 years I still miss her so badly. I still reach for the phone to call her to tell her something or ask her something. we spoke 2-3 times a day even after I moved to a different state. There have been so many things happen in my life over these 8 years that I would like to have discussed with her. She'd be heartbroken my two kitties have crossed the rainbow bridge - but she'd love my little dog to pieces. I can hear my dad call him Knothead - his nickname for everyone!!..I heard myself laugh at something the other day and thought 'that was mom's laugh". In the last 10 years I've lost three family members plus a BIL.... its rough.
My mom and I were best friends and even though she's been gone 8 years I still miss her so badly. I still reach for the phone to call her to tell her something or ask her something. we spoke 2-3 times a day even after I moved to a different state. There have been so many things happen in my life over these 8 years that I would like to have discussed with her. She'd be heartbroken my two kitties have crossed the rainbow bridge - but she'd love my little dog to pieces. I can hear my dad call him Knothead - his nickname for everyone!!..I heard myself laugh at something the other day and thought 'that was mom's laugh". In the last 10 years I've lost three family members plus a BIL.... its rough.
I'm sorry for your losses. Perhaps you could comfort yourself with the thought that you won the parent lottery.
My mom and I were best friends and even though she's been gone 8 years I still miss her so badly. I still reach for the phone to call her to tell her something or ask her something. we spoke 2-3 times a day even after I moved to a different state. There have been so many things happen in my life over these 8 years that I would like to have discussed with her. She'd be heartbroken my two kitties have crossed the rainbow bridge - but she'd love my little dog to pieces. I can hear my dad call him Knothead - his nickname for everyone!!..I heard myself laugh at something the other day and thought 'that was mom's laugh". In the last 10 years I've lost three family members plus a BIL.... its rough.
You have had a time but I envy your close relationships. Those are things you can take comfort in for the rest of your life.
Although my relationships with my parents weren't anywhere near that close and they've been gone over 25 years I still find myself "talking" to them every now and again. In fact, just moments ago while emptying the dishwasher and doing some hand washing I put away bowls my parents bought in mainland China when we live there in the 40s as well as some hashi, Japanese chopsticks, they bought in the 50s when we lived in Japan I found myself "talking" to my mother and reminiscing about what a marvelous cook she was.
Keep your good memories close! They're true treasures.
This thread inspired me so much yesterday that I sent a message to a first cousin once removed to tell him something cute and funny he did when he was three. I am hoping he appreciates it. Sometimes the younger among us don't like to be told those things by their older relatives.
I am the baby of the baby on both sides of my family and yet I have the most family stories to tell. I didn't know the family secrets because I came along so late in the plot of the story but I was an observant and curious child who liked to be around grown-ups.
And all my older cousins were long gone by the time the aunts, uncles and grandparents had retired. So they had more time with me and I think I knew them better as a result. I also lived across the street from my paternal grandma which was the family hub. One other reason is I think most all the cousins had more difficult lives during the time they were growing up and just didn't amass a lot of memories.
And the questions still pop up from time to time. Just a while ago I wondered who had taught my dad how to play the piano and there is no one I can think of to ask.
Curmudgeon, one of my uncles was a blacksmith who died walking home in a snowstorm. The story was he fell, broke his leg and couldn't walk the rest of the way. The part nobody told was that he was three sheets to the wind, probably passed out and froze to death. I've never mentioned it to my cousins "just in case."
Naw, everybody likes to hear about cute stuff they did as a kid!
Maybe it's time to write some of this stuff down. My aunt by marriage died last summer at 98. She had a sharp memory and talked about the banks closing, her father playing the organ at the silent movies (it was played during the film) and even some family history I didn't know about. She was ready to go when she died but what a font of information.
Well some of the family stories I heard were not so funny but actually included meanness and selfishness. Maybe your grandmother had too much of that in her history. What ever family history is, we all have to make our own lives.
That could be. The females in my family are not so nice and a little whacky...and that is mild.
This thread inspired me so much yesterday that I sent a message to a first cousin once removed to tell him something cute and funny he did when he was three. I am hoping he appreciates it. Sometimes the younger among us don't like to be told those things by their older relatives.
I am the baby of the baby on both sides of my family and yet I have the most family stories to tell. I didn't know the family secrets because I came along so late in the plot of the story but I was an observant and curious child who liked to be around grown-ups.
And all my older cousins were long gone by the time the aunts, uncles and grandparents had retired. So they had more time with me and I think I knew them better as a result. I also lived across the street from my paternal grandma which was the family hub. One other reason is I think most all the cousins had more difficult lives during the time they were growing up and just didn't amass a lot of memories.
And the questions still pop up from time to time. Just a while ago I wondered who had taught my dad how to play the piano and there is no one I can think of to ask.
Curmudgeon, one of my uncles was a blacksmith who died walking home in a snowstorm. The story was he fell, broke his leg and couldn't walk the rest of the way. The part nobody told was that he was three sheets to the wind, probably passed out and froze to death. I've never mentioned it to my cousins "just in case."
Sounds like your uncle and my grandfather had something in common, as did the tales told to hide the "uncomfortable" truth.
I envy you a close, extended family. Mine was scattered to the winds along the east coast and we stayed primarily on the left coast. My former wife had a sizeable extended family in California's central valley who owned hundreds if not thousands of acres of prime farm country. At one time they all lived on one street in a small town there. My father-in-law, the oldest son, was the only rebel and moved away to become an airline pilot instead of helping with the family business. His family was somewhat ostracized by "the sins of the father."
Nevertheless, we were expected to be there for Thanksgiving, Easter and the 4th of July and made it often. They were "command performances." At 5:00 p.m. every day but Sunday they all gathered at the patriarch's and matriarch's house for cocktails. Grandpa lived to be 87 and Grandma, who attributed her longevity to brandy manhattans, died just short of her 101st birthday. All the aunts and uncles are gone as well. The ex's cousins are now scattered away and the farms ("ranches" in California parlance) have all been sold.
When the ex left me for another she poisoned the entire family against me but for 25 years it was my only experience with a close, extended family and one I admired, enjoyed and envied. Wish I'd had one close at hand. My parents didn't quite suffice.
Family myths are manifold I've found. Sometimes, depending on their nature, genetic testing undoes them!
I hear you Curmudgeon. I lost both my parents within a few months of each other in my mid-forties. There are still things that occur, mainly with my kids, and I have an irrational urge to call my mother and tell her. Or I will have a realization out of the blue about my father and what he accomplished that I didn't appreciate or understand when I was young.
Sometimes I just tell them anyway, then smile at my own loopiness.
omg ... I misread the title as a real downside to losing your pants ...
Not quite the same thing.
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