Category Archives: Vicky’s stories

Dad, The Center of Our Universe

Dad, The Center of Our Universe

 

Adventurers 1992

“My father didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.”

—Clarence Budington Kelland

T is the Pied Piper of our family. From the moment the boys were born, he had a vision for teaching them the joys and adventure to be found in life. Sometimes the adventure was found in our own backyard. Chubby toddlers chasing fireflies in the summer dark, trying to capture their magic. Guarding snow castles from dragons coming to capture their most beautiful queen Mommy. To jump in the center of a pile of autumn leaves, where there just might be a Daddy waiting to scoop you up in his loving arms. Read the rest of this entry

Most Beautiful Queen Mommy

Most Beautiful Queen Mommy

“Mommy loves the breeze on her knees. And sweet peas. I love Mommy.” –Adam, circa 1993

Little Momma 1963

I always knew I wanted to be a mom. Every Christmas Santa would bring me a new baby that I would love up every day with walks, diapers, bottles, naps, playtime, baths. I would dress my babies from my mother’s stash of our old baby clothes. Mom nurtured this passion in me—she knitted me baby blankets, brought  home preemie diapers for my babies from her work; she was a nurse on the labor & delivery ward at Hepburn Hospital for ions. Many a lucky baby was born under her loving care. Mom LOVED babies, and I got this gene from her.

As I grew up, I continued to dream of my own real life family. Tops on my list in a husband was a man who valued children. One who would eagerly love the joys of raising great people from the first breath. Who would show them how to live, love and have fun. T is the best Dad ever! Not just from my seat, but from the ones who matter most—the Boinkers.

When I found out I was pregnant with twins, I was ecstatic. I read Read the rest of this entry

The Birthday Box

The Birthday Box

Happy Birthday Baby Girl!

 I love this photo that speaks the promise of a life of joy ahead.

I suspect the photographer was my dad Henry because he was our family historian. See how we are smiling so brightly? Henry captured a moment that forever portrays the love between my mom (Joyce) and me.

Tomorrow I will be 54 years old–a half century since this photo was taken on my 4th birthday. Pop had the foresight to label 1962 on the front of the photo (faint handwriting in his dear, scraggly script).

I study this photo just about every day because I keep it on my dressing table. Whose house was this? What was in the box? Read the rest of this entry