April 2007

Will spring ever come?

I haven’t had time to write about the things I’d like to write about. This is a piece I did earlier and just hand colored it. (click image to see larger). I did not spend the kind of time I need to spend it really do a good job.

I hope when things settle down to write more interesting things.

The Frosted Window

I’ve noticed that a great number of my bloggy friends and others are experiencing deaths that affects them deeply. Nicole, jo(e), Helena, Kate, Mary, Tammy, Morgan and others have all recently blogged about a death that affected them. I have just returned from my Mom’s memorial service and am still in a state of grief and confusion.

Not everything that happened there was bad, of course, there were delightful moments mixed with the tears and interesting discoveries.

For example, at one point my father was making $100 a week–for a long time. I threw away LOTS of pay stubs that said that. I wish I’d saved one. I don’t remember the dates.

My parents were very frugal. They did not spend or waste much money. And my father invested carefully in the stock market with his meager earnings.

Lo and behold, I found a bank statement that said they had over a million dollars. This was in a time when being a millionaire meant more than it does now. Much of that money disappeared during the illnesses that killed both of them and in the stock crash of a few years back. But I, for one, was surprised to learn they had accumulated that much wealth at one point.

They did not live like millionaires. They lived in a tiny old house and wore shabby clothes purchased at garage sales. During the short time between when my father retired and got ill, they did travel quite extensively in Europe, Asia and South America. This traveling was cut short not only by his illness, but also by increasing terrorism. I can think of little else that indicated that they had accumulated anything that might be called wealth.

Oh, and don’t be thinking I have any wealth by default, as I have been unemployed for a number of years. Sorry.

Here is a little sketch I made of my parents. It’s not great, but it’s a little like them in the 1940s (click to see larger):

My parents sketch