Baby Boomer Sagas's Blog

Excerpt from: “Aunt Clara”, Chapter VI | July 1, 2010

Me with Aunt Clara, circa 1953 – She made my dress!

10/28/11 – This is an excerpt from “Aunt Clara”.

It’s a balmy day in early September; morning time, around 7:45. Already the temperature is seventy-six degrees. The sun is shining brightly and the plant life is still a rich green color. On this otherwise quiet street, the birds have not yet finished their morning serenade.

Three sets of feet are tapping the pavement in uneven tempo. I am flanked by two women. They each have one of my tiny hands in theirs. I look down at my brand new brown and white saddle shoes, and I smile. I start to skip over the cracks in the sidewalk.

A slight breeze blows and I catch the scent of one of their perfumes.

I am feeling very excited. I don’t know exactly what to expect, but these two seem to think it will be great.

It’s my first day of kindergarten, and my mom and Aunt Clara, are escorting me on the one-mile trek to school.

My Aunt looks down at me with a huge smile, “Lover girl, I can’t believe you are starting school today!”

This is my first recollection of my aunt Clara. I know she was in my life way before my first day of school; there are photos of us together to prove that. But this is the first day I can see her as vividly as if I were watching the scene on a high-definition screen.

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About author

10/28/2011 - I just finished writing a memoir. It will be in the hands of an editor within the next two weeks. It's a narrative about the time I spent living in New Jersey with my Aunts and Uncles who were the children of Italian immigrants and takes place from 1951 to the present. Although I loved every one of these twenty-five relatives, only seven made it to the book. I call these special seven "The Other Parents". During the spring of 2009 I was diagnosed with eye cancer. But even this and the related six surgeries I underwent couldn’t stop me from doing what I had set out to do that last week in April 2009. Now, I was even more compelled to complete my book. I was driven by a sense of urgency. Since I was an extremely proficient typist, I continued writing my story shortly after the first surgery with only short down-times immediately following each additional surgery. I typed on my computer using one eye while taking full advantage of Arial 16 type font. The story was inside of me, I could have done it with my eyes closed. Writing about these family members was rehabilitating. It was therapeutic, not that this was the only reason I pushed forward with my dream. My main reason for doing it is I had something worth telling and I even felt it was worth hearing. I wanted everyone to know about their strong sense of right and wrong, their compassion and love, their sense of humor; their family loyalty. Although they shared many of the same qualities, I experienced a unique and separate relationship with each one simultaneously during the same time period. Giving them their own story was the only way I thought I could do them justice. To do otherwise would detract from each aunt and uncles’ uniqueness.

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