Picture Only

In their traveling hats. They look like British Punks. Up next:Shots!

The Pictureless blog.

I forgot to bring my camera with me when I went to The Providence Children's Museum yesterday, therefore I get no credit. Fabio and I decided to split the boys and spend quality time with each of them. Owen and Fabio went for a bike ride and Enzo and I were planning to go to The Children's Museum.

First, I had to go to AAA to get some New England Road Maps. Not for these activities, but for the future. When I came back, Fabio told me that my father had come over to our house to announce that he was walking to the Noon Mass. The Church is just across the Providence College campus, which is a half a block from our house. My father also wanted to see if Fabio needed the keys to his house for "whatever reason."

I asked Fabio if he gave my father a ride to Mass. He said "No. Should I have?" I am like, duh."Was there a pause between his two statements?" He said, "Actually, he came back to ask me about the keys." I know that my husband cannot read minds, but this practically screams, "May I have a ride to Mass?"

So Enzo and I drove over to pick him up. He was thrilled to see me in a car. His feet have been hurting a lot lately. I used to walk across campus with him while the boys rode their bikes,lately I have been driving him. I was telling him about our plans for the day. I said , "so Enzo and I are going to Wickenden Street for Pizza, then downtown to a furniture store and then to the Providence Children's Museum for 3 hours. Do you want to come?"

Never in a million years did I expect his, "That sounds great. Would you mind if we just let Eddie out first?"

We had so much fun. We ran into a couple in their late 60's. They were there with their grandchildren. The woman walked up to my father and said, "Are you Owen McGowan?" My father looked so surprised. He kind of blushed. She said, "I am MaryLou Viverios.I was so sorry to hear about Pat" She and her husband had lived a block away from us in Fall River,Massachusetts when I was growing up. I was in grades 4 through 8 with their son Brett. They were watching Brett's kids!

My dad was having the greatest time. It was almost as if he was a child. He enjoyed each new display more than the last. He didn't get on the floor and start playing or anything. He was certainly intrigued. He kept saying this: "I can see why a child would like this Museum. I even like it!" He must have said that same statement 8 or 9 times, with equal enthusiasim each time.

An hour after meeting couple number one, we met couple number two. This time it was Christine, Clyde, and their daughter Sarah. They used to live 4 houses away from my parents in Somerset, Massachusetts.

When Fabio and I first moved back to the mainland from Honolulu we lived in Somerset with my parents. We had the front half of their 1750's home on the water. It was gorgeous. Our half was two stories. It had a little kitchen, 2 full baths, 2 bedrooms, a dining room and a living room. Each room was tiny but charming. Really charming. Great views.

Somerset,Massachusetts has got to be the most boring town on planet earth. It is full of (perfectly lovely) folks all between the ages of 70 and 90. Its culinary delicacies include over breaded Chinese food served by Portugese immigrants. It just doesn't work.

We lived in Somerset until we found the perfect house (in Providence ,RI). That ended up taking 11 months. One day my husband, kids and I were playing in the yard when a young woman strolled by with a baby in the baby carriage.

We flagged her down and started talking. We told her that we had just moved from Hawaii a month earlier. She said, "My husband is from Hawaii" Shut up! Fabio knew him. Not well, but c'mon! Clyde used to work for a dentist friend of Fabio's. Clyde makes teeth. He is really good at it. They have a friend named Gino in common too. Nuts.

And they were at the Children's Museum yesterday. Small town, small world. Teeny tiny.

Uniforms.

Look at my nephew and niece. Aren't they cute? Anand has graduated from Boston University and is excelling in his field. Advertising. Cathleen is at Boston College majoring in theology. I showed my boys this picture in order to prepare them for the uniforms that they must wear at their school, Ann Mary, in India. Always the cut up, Owen said, "Mom!That skirt will cover my knees! I like my knees!"

"The pants will too, girlfriend" countered Enzo. They are so funny!

Neither are thrilled about the uniforms. They are thrilled about India however. I have never seen so many bold X's on a calendar in my life! We are leaving the U.S August 31st and staying for three months. I am so excited to show these kids the land that I speak of so much. I was 25 the last time I was in India. I arrived on my birthday. It was such a life changing experience for me. I loved every single minute of it. I was there for 4 months and I never wanted to leave. I remember sitting next to a French girl on the airplane coming home. We both saw the New York skyline come into view. She had never been to America. We said "New York" at the exact same time in decidedly different tones. I love New York, but not that day. I wanted to go back to New Delhi.

I spoke of India so much when I arrived home in America. I guess wearing bindis on my forehead daily was kind of a conversation starter. Five years after my return,I visited a friend of mine in San Francisco. He introduced me to his new friends with, "This is Lucy, she just got back from India."

A Man and My Dog.

I have given up my dog. I had to. I still see Eddie everyday but he brings my father such comfort and joy, comfort and joy. Maybe I should hire a little Christmas Choir. Really, no one has ever seen anything quite like it. He is all my father ever talks about. On the day my mother died, in fact with in an hour after my mother's passing, Eddie placed himself at my father's feet. When my father got up, so did Eddie. Everyone took note. It was the sweetest display of solidarity I had ever seen. My dad was so buoyed,even in his grief, by Eddie's love and loyalty.

My dad now sleeps on my mom's side of the bed and my dog sleeps on my dad's. They live next door to us, so I haven't really given him up. Really. I guess I may have.

My sister Jo took my father out for dinner about a week after my mother's funeral. I asked her where she had gone,before she could tell me, she started laughing. She had taken him to a really fancy Federal Hill Restaurant in Providence. She said that my father looked around and then said very seriously, "Eddie would love this place"
As much as I miss that dog, I am doing the right thing. Obviously.

The Miracle of John Leary

My cousins were visiting yesterday and asked me about this picture that my father had in his living room. They were walking out the door. It was hard to race through such a life changing story. I tried. Usually when I tell this story I start off with, "We will have to go all the way back to the Civil War" I have no idea why I say that , maybe because it is so involved and enormous.

When my sister Jo was in college she was active in the peace movement. She became great friends with this fellow named John Leary, who is in the middle here. The other guy is my fabulous brother-in-law Ravi, Jo's husband and I am wearing that stupid beret. I think I was thirteen.

John was special. From the moment I met him I knew that. He graduated magna cum laude from Harvard. He was so smart. He was so kind and he was so humble. He took his degree and threw it to the street. Literally. He lived and worked at Haley House, a Soup Kitchen/ Shelter in Boston. He tutored remedial English to prisoners. He gave and gave. He was running along the Charles River one day and dropped dead. He was 24. He had some weird thing with his heart that strikes one in 15 million people. He used to babysit me.

So many, hundreds and hundreds, of people came to his wake. Two in particular stood out. One was this truck driver that had met John once, two years prior, John had been hitchhiking. This guy had only spent one hour with him. He had read his obituary in the Boston Globe and had driven over an hour to pay his respects. The other was this Catholic nun who said, "When I looked into John's eyes I could see all the way to Heaven"

I was such a teenager at the time and his death hit me hard. I knew exactly what that nun was saying. He had endless blue pools. Endless. I remember trying not to look at his eyes all the time, because if I did look at them, I would stare. They were that intense and beautiful. We used to play jacks. He was so patient with me. How I loved him.

This is just part of my story.

When I was 25 years old I moved to Honolulu with no plan at all (and my father said "a vague purse"). I was staying with some friends, purse getting more and more vague. I decided that I should get a nanny job. I was certainly qualified. I had been a nanny for years in Georgia.

I looked in the newspaper. There were 12 ads. I picked the second to last one because it had the same first 3 numbers as the folks I was staying with. I figured it would be close by. I called the number. The mother and I laughed at the fact that we were both Irish Catholics from New England. Hardy har har. We exchanged names and made a plan to meet the next day. When I arrived at the house I saw that this Irish woman was holding a very Chinese looking baby. I said something offhand like, "Wow, he's gorgeous, my sister is married to an Indian. Her kids are stunning too."

I will never forget her reaction for as long as I live. Her eyes welled up with tears, her four month old slipped a little on her hip. She said, "Is your sister Jo McGowan?" I said, "Yeah, have you read her?" She said, "Well yes, but your sister was my brother's best friend. He died when he was 24" I made the connection at once. I cried too. I said, "You are John Leary's sister? He used to babysit me!" Of course the job was mine and I lived with the lovely Leary/Liu family for 2 and half years!

Rosemary told me that she had been lying in bed the night before praying to John. She said that she told him, "OK John, you have left me down here, and now I have 4 kids. What am I going to do for childcare?" I was so pleased to be an answer to a prayer.Yes.

I often reminded them of that if we disagreed about anything. Anything at all. It became my go-to line. Ahem, I believe I am the answer to the prayer. I believe it was you who placed that prayer and I don't want to eat at Compadres tonight, I'd rather go to Mekong. It never worked, but I never quit working it every chance I got.

I had such a good time in that house. We had so much fun. My little Emily, who had just turned two when I moved in, is now a Sophomore at Northeastern in Boston and she babysits for us!

Saying it with Legos *tm.

My oldest boy wasn't messing around when I slept in (until 8am! the horror!). This is what greeted me this morning.

Jo and Dad

My sister Jo lives in India. (She also hula hoops). She hopped on the the earliest flight that she could upon hearing that my mother was rapidly failing. She had JUST left America 6 weeks earlier! She has been here since June 21st and is staying until July 22nd. She has been by my dad's side constantly. She takes him out for dinner to cute little Federal Hill (Italian section of Providence, RI) bistros. She walks to noon Mass with him. She just sits and chats. She is his favorite, and no one is mad about it. It has always been obvious. It is, however, obvious WHY she is his favorite. She has endless patience with his telling and retelling of stories. I am not that good. I don't know anyone who is, except her.

My dad has stories that can be quite interesting, but my word! Sometimes I hear the same one 4 or 5 times a day! Seriously. He tells them like he has never told them before. Jo listens like she has never heard them before. I have been known to snap,"oh Dad, is this the one where the Mormons stayed at the Fall River YMCA? Yeah, you've told me this one" I am awful. She is not.