In Memory
In January, I posted a brief blog entry about celebrating New Years at my parents with a couple of their neighbors. Those neighbors were Chuck and Mary Beth Henshaw, aka "Henshaws."
They've always been "Henshaws."
We telephoned "Henshaws."
We hung out with "Henshaws."
We went to Chuck E. Cheese with "Henshaws."
You'll see what I mean.
To back track for a moment. . .I remember my mom telling me some time ago that when she first moved to Franklin after my parents were married in 1976, Mary Beth was her first friend. I don't know how long my dad and Chuck had known each other, although I don't think they grew up together.
You can imagine if you're friends with someone from the 1970s on, you have years of shared history.
My mom and Mary Beth were pregnant with their first child at the same time, although I beat Tim out of the womb by 8 months.
As new mothers, they pushed us around the neighborhood in our respective strollers, talking about who knows what, and now that I think about it, wearing who knows what. It was the late 70s, you know. Bell bottoms, tube tops, terry cloth dresses. It was all up for grabs.
Time passed and they each had an additional child, also pretty close in age. They settled into their "experienced" mom routines and the hassle of raising multiple children in small town American in the 1980s, with their blue collar husbands who seemed to be laid off and/or on strike every other year.
The adventures our families shared could fill a book.
In second grade, I got the chicken pox. Or so Mom thought. I was sitting naked on the living room couch in just a pair of underwear when Mary Beth (with her medical background) showed up to confirm that the blister on my shoulder and the one or two on my belly were indeed dreaded chicken pox pustules.
Some 30 years later I can still feel that scratchy upholstery on my back.
Timeframe unknown. . . I remember Tim and I swinging on the swingset outside his kitchen window underneath at least one huge pine tree and Mary Beth yelling, "Cool It" from somewhere inside the house. She used that phrase a lot and I remember my childish, disrespectful self thinking, "Kool-Aid? Did someone say Kool-Aid?"
Isn't it funny what sticks with you through the years.
I used to win coloring contests through Country Fair each year. For Halloween, and maybe for Easter, the store would have a stack of holiday themed coloring pages at the registers. If you colored it and brought it back they would display them throughout the store and then choose a winner in a variety of age groups.
If anyone wants to know, my trick was to outline the image in marker and then color it with crayons. Whoever judged the artwork loved my creative genius in founding that medium. Even when it wasn't "new" anymore.
Anyway, I won contest after contest and the prize was always a movie and pizza. If you didn't own a VCR, they would provide one for the evening. Very generous of them, but since my parents didn't even own a TV, the VCR was hardly enough. It wasn't a problem. Someone would call "Henshaws" and a movie night would be planned. Their TV, my borrowed VCR.
We watched such gems as Ghost Busters, and a movie about a dinosaur, Baby. There were others, but those stand out.
At some point someone had the idea that my parents and "Henshaws" should take turns rotating houses for a family game night once a month, or whatever. Basically, one family would host and prepare dinner for everyone. The other family would show up a predetermined time with snacks and a board game, or two, in hand. This went on for years, as far as I can remember.
Oh, and Tim was the reason I wasn't allowed to have anymore "friend" birthday parties. We were playing musical chairs, and he and I were the last two standing. We jumped on the mat at the same time when the music stopped and my mom told me he won, because he was a guest. I went inside, unwrapped the prize which was a lollipop, returned to the party waving the treat, and then promptly popped it in my mouth.
Okay, so I guess it was my fault that I wasn't allowed to have any more parties.
I remember racing Tim on our Big Wheel bikes, out his driveway and down the street. He had the cool Dukes of Hazzard model with the removable back. I had the ultra-girly pink and white model with daisy stickers on the "big wheel." Seat back firmly glued in place. Removal not possible. Tim was cool though. Occasionally I could talk him into switching, or at the very least, sharing his Big Wheel.
Anyway. We grew. We moved on to high school. We gave up our childhood. We grew apart.
He got married, I got married, I had kids, he had kids, I got divorced. Thankfully, he did not.
Which bring us to Chapter 2.
Between them, my parents and "Henshaws" had five children. It's now 2014. All the kids have grown up and moved away, some further than others. Sal and I decided to spend New Years in Franklin. My mom told me she invited "Henshaws" for dinner, but we were welcome to join them.
Both Chuck and Mary Beth baked cookies for our wedding cookie table, but had been unable to attend. I loved that everyone was finally going to meet.
Once that was decided, "Game Night" immediately popped into my head. I insisted that we find the old UNO game and play "just like old times." My mom and Sal didn't seem to love the idea, but my dad and "Henshaws" were enthusiastic participants so the other two played along.
We laughed a lot. Some of us were playing with half the deck in our hands at times. Someone won, lots of us lost, and the evening was over. Each couple went their separate way.
We saw "Henshaws" a few months later at the beginning of May. Sal and I were in Franklin with the girls for the day. We went to Mass as we usually do when we visit, and Emmy was excited to see Mary Beth and Chuck in church, sitting near my parents. Emmy asked me in a whisper if she could sit with Mary Beth. I said, "sure" and away she went.
I was surprised because Emmy usually stays close to me in public. I mentioned this to my mom later, and she said, "oh yeah, she likes Mary Beth. We spent time with her last summer when I was babysitting the girls."
Awesome!
Chapter 3
Last week I knew Chuck was sick and in the hospital, but when Tim posted on Facebook that his dad was being Lifeflighted to Pittsburgh, I was alarmed. I called my mom immediately and she told me what she knew.
Over the next few days, specialists, doctors and nurses at Allegheny General did all that they could for Chuck. But ultimately, our prayers and their efforts were not enough.
Chuck arrived at the Pearly Gates on Thursday, May 22 in an oversized pick-up truck driven by Jesus himself, where St. Peter and friends were dealing their first round of Uno.
He and his family have provided three generations of mine with good and lasting memories. That is a life well-lived.
They've always been "Henshaws."
We telephoned "Henshaws."
We hung out with "Henshaws."
We went to Chuck E. Cheese with "Henshaws."
You'll see what I mean.
To back track for a moment. . .I remember my mom telling me some time ago that when she first moved to Franklin after my parents were married in 1976, Mary Beth was her first friend. I don't know how long my dad and Chuck had known each other, although I don't think they grew up together.
You can imagine if you're friends with someone from the 1970s on, you have years of shared history.
My mom and Mary Beth were pregnant with their first child at the same time, although I beat Tim out of the womb by 8 months.
As new mothers, they pushed us around the neighborhood in our respective strollers, talking about who knows what, and now that I think about it, wearing who knows what. It was the late 70s, you know. Bell bottoms, tube tops, terry cloth dresses. It was all up for grabs.
Time passed and they each had an additional child, also pretty close in age. They settled into their "experienced" mom routines and the hassle of raising multiple children in small town American in the 1980s, with their blue collar husbands who seemed to be laid off and/or on strike every other year.
The adventures our families shared could fill a book.
In second grade, I got the chicken pox. Or so Mom thought. I was sitting naked on the living room couch in just a pair of underwear when Mary Beth (with her medical background) showed up to confirm that the blister on my shoulder and the one or two on my belly were indeed dreaded chicken pox pustules.
Some 30 years later I can still feel that scratchy upholstery on my back.
Timeframe unknown. . . I remember Tim and I swinging on the swingset outside his kitchen window underneath at least one huge pine tree and Mary Beth yelling, "Cool It" from somewhere inside the house. She used that phrase a lot and I remember my childish, disrespectful self thinking, "Kool-Aid? Did someone say Kool-Aid?"
Isn't it funny what sticks with you through the years.
I used to win coloring contests through Country Fair each year. For Halloween, and maybe for Easter, the store would have a stack of holiday themed coloring pages at the registers. If you colored it and brought it back they would display them throughout the store and then choose a winner in a variety of age groups.
If anyone wants to know, my trick was to outline the image in marker and then color it with crayons. Whoever judged the artwork loved my creative genius in founding that medium. Even when it wasn't "new" anymore.
Anyway, I won contest after contest and the prize was always a movie and pizza. If you didn't own a VCR, they would provide one for the evening. Very generous of them, but since my parents didn't even own a TV, the VCR was hardly enough. It wasn't a problem. Someone would call "Henshaws" and a movie night would be planned. Their TV, my borrowed VCR.
We watched such gems as Ghost Busters, and a movie about a dinosaur, Baby. There were others, but those stand out.
At some point someone had the idea that my parents and "Henshaws" should take turns rotating houses for a family game night once a month, or whatever. Basically, one family would host and prepare dinner for everyone. The other family would show up a predetermined time with snacks and a board game, or two, in hand. This went on for years, as far as I can remember.
Oh, and Tim was the reason I wasn't allowed to have anymore "friend" birthday parties. We were playing musical chairs, and he and I were the last two standing. We jumped on the mat at the same time when the music stopped and my mom told me he won, because he was a guest. I went inside, unwrapped the prize which was a lollipop, returned to the party waving the treat, and then promptly popped it in my mouth.
Okay, so I guess it was my fault that I wasn't allowed to have any more parties.
I remember racing Tim on our Big Wheel bikes, out his driveway and down the street. He had the cool Dukes of Hazzard model with the removable back. I had the ultra-girly pink and white model with daisy stickers on the "big wheel." Seat back firmly glued in place. Removal not possible. Tim was cool though. Occasionally I could talk him into switching, or at the very least, sharing his Big Wheel.
Anyway. We grew. We moved on to high school. We gave up our childhood. We grew apart.
He got married, I got married, I had kids, he had kids, I got divorced. Thankfully, he did not.
Which bring us to Chapter 2.
Between them, my parents and "Henshaws" had five children. It's now 2014. All the kids have grown up and moved away, some further than others. Sal and I decided to spend New Years in Franklin. My mom told me she invited "Henshaws" for dinner, but we were welcome to join them.
Both Chuck and Mary Beth baked cookies for our wedding cookie table, but had been unable to attend. I loved that everyone was finally going to meet.
Once that was decided, "Game Night" immediately popped into my head. I insisted that we find the old UNO game and play "just like old times." My mom and Sal didn't seem to love the idea, but my dad and "Henshaws" were enthusiastic participants so the other two played along.
We laughed a lot. Some of us were playing with half the deck in our hands at times. Someone won, lots of us lost, and the evening was over. Each couple went their separate way.
We saw "Henshaws" a few months later at the beginning of May. Sal and I were in Franklin with the girls for the day. We went to Mass as we usually do when we visit, and Emmy was excited to see Mary Beth and Chuck in church, sitting near my parents. Emmy asked me in a whisper if she could sit with Mary Beth. I said, "sure" and away she went.
I was surprised because Emmy usually stays close to me in public. I mentioned this to my mom later, and she said, "oh yeah, she likes Mary Beth. We spent time with her last summer when I was babysitting the girls."
Awesome!
Chapter 3
Last week I knew Chuck was sick and in the hospital, but when Tim posted on Facebook that his dad was being Lifeflighted to Pittsburgh, I was alarmed. I called my mom immediately and she told me what she knew.
Over the next few days, specialists, doctors and nurses at Allegheny General did all that they could for Chuck. But ultimately, our prayers and their efforts were not enough.
Chuck arrived at the Pearly Gates on Thursday, May 22 in an oversized pick-up truck driven by Jesus himself, where St. Peter and friends were dealing their first round of Uno.
He and his family have provided three generations of mine with good and lasting memories. That is a life well-lived.
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