When she read it, she commented on Facebook, from time to time I put a link up there to my blog. I was touched at what she wrote, it really meant a lot to me, something about forgetting how well I write and that I am more than just her little sister. It made me smile. Then she did something that really surprised me. She told my parents about my Blog post. Then she went over and pulled it up for them and printed it, as my dad has this super machine that magnifies anything he can put under it and allows him to read it.
Yesterday my mom called me to thank me for writing such a lovely piece and for remembering the part of our lives that had been involved with politics. It was so sweet. Now honestly some of the things I write I’m not sure I’d want my mom to read, but this was a good thing for her to see. It brought me to tears when she told me she thinks I need to write more and that she thinks I’m very talented and that I need to share it more. Now I don’t know that believe all that, but hearing it from your mom, even if you are almost 50 years old is still very nice.
A small story to enlighten you more about my parents and their political activities. On that fated day in 1963 when John F Kennedy was in Dallas TX, my parents were at the TradeMart waiting for his arrival, a luncheon in his honor was being held. On my recent visit to Dallas we went to the 6th floor museum, located in the former TX Book Depository Building, the assumed location of the assasin of JFK. The museum is full of pictures and memorobelia and is a facinating place to visit if you even find yourself in Dallas. My brother and parents had told me of a picture there where you see the folks at the Trade Mart, and you can see my mom. My mom is a stunning red head, and it was dark and vibrant in ’63. She remembers the suit she had on and it was amazing they could pick her out. Naturally we all checked it out and sure enough that is her. It’s harder to distinguish my dad, there were many tall men with dark hair and dark suits in the photo.
On the way downstairs a pair of women were riding with Kevin and I in the elevator and they had on badges and asked if we enjoyed the museum. We said we did, they asked if we lived in Dallas and I said not now, but I did at the time. This opened up a discussion on my parents proximity to the situation and their own memories of that day. One of the women turned out to be the director of the museum and she was excited to hear this. The museum has a verbal historian who has been collecting as many interviews and stories from people who were in Dallas and the area on the JFK was shot. I gave her my parents information and when I told them they were so excited!! This historian actually lives very close to them and is planning a visit to record their accounts. My dad also has some memorobelia that the museum does not have and he may be donating these pieces.
This is my history, my past, but more importanty it’s a huge part of the two people who raised me and helped shape my values and morals.
Now tomorrow I’ll probably blog about teenagers giving me gray hair, and I hope my mom doesn’t follow my blog too closely!