Debbie's Post

The Fisher House in Connecticut

2026-07-04T20:46:59.568-04:00

This past week George had carotid-subclavian bypass surgery. An artery in his neck was so clogged and calcified that they couldn't place a stent, so they had to do a full bypass. We are hoping this clears up some issues he was having.

What I wanted to let people know, if you are a veteran and live more than an hour away from the VA hospital where you will be admitted, your family can be put up in housing while you are in the hospital.
In the 1990's a wonderful couple, Zachary and Elizabeth Fisher built the first Fisher House in Bethesda, MD. They saw a need, to help families stay close to their loved ones during VA hospital stays. The Fishers have since passed away, but the Fisher House Foundation keeps their legacy alive. Today, there are nearly 100 Fisher houses, mostly in the US, with a few overseas.
The Fisher House Foundation, designs and build the houses, furnishes and decorates them, and then donates them to the VA. The VA staffs them with administrative workers, housekeeping and maintenance.

I was blessed to be able to stay there while George was in the hospital--and because his surgery was early in the morning, we were able to stay the night before. The houses are built to be a home away from home to reduce the stress of long drives and hotel costs. They are beautifully made with high-quality fixtures and beautiful decor.

We stayed at the Fisher House on the West Haven VA hospital campus. It was amazing. You stay in a bedroom with your own bathroom. There are a shared kitchen, dining room, family room and outdoor patio. You have your own personal fridge space and pantry cupboard for any food you bring, but there is also a generous supply of donated food available for families. The food is donated by various organizations.

These pictures will show you what a beautiful place it is and what an awesome way to honor veterans and their families in stressful times. I wanted to spread the word.

There were many photographs along the hallways. We must have walked by this 5 times before we noticed this picture from our hometown! Another God wink: I was talking to a woman who was staying there while her husband had surgery. It turned out that not only did she live in the next town over, but she lived a couple of houses away from a house we used to rent out. I love coincidences like that.

But there's more Sunrise & a note from November 1, 1975 to November 1, 2025

2025-11-01T21:43:00.001-04:00

One of my most favorite things is watching the sunrise or set, especially at the ocean. Each morning I hoped for the clouds to clear so I could see one. Finally, our last day we got one--not spectacular like others in our past years, but satisfying.

We noticed that the resort was set up for a wedding to be held on November 1st--our anniversary. We thought about crashing the wedding, but we weren't staying that long. We decided it would be fun to leave the bride and groom a note and this is what we did.

50 Years last day of celebrating

2025-11-01T21:15:00.000-04:00

One morning we went to Sandwich to the beach where my parents always rented a house. I did not find any sea glass, but did bring home several rocks that I liked. Pictures from Sandwich:

We also visited the spot that we always used to visit before we left the Cape to feed the ducks. Different angle, but same spot.

We ended our little excursion by staying in Sturbridge at a room with a view of a lake, keeping with the water theme. They had an indoor pool in the middle of a courtyard.

The place is pretty but has several drawbacks that doesn't entice us to return.

Unusual tree.

At this one, Canadian Geese welcomed us, but they were short staffed--not quite 50.

50 Years celebrations continue

2025-11-01T20:21:00.002-04:00

The next day after the train ride, we drove up to Provincetown for a trolley tour. It was a very informative tour.

I didn't get a good picture of this, but all the houses in Provincetown that have that little blue plaque, were houses that were built out on a piece of land that was becoming flooded and they actually floated all these homes to where they are now.

Miscellaneous pictures of Provincetown

From a store window:

Other sites on another day:

Other places another day:

50 Years and still making memories continued

2025-11-01T20:01:00.003-04:00

While we were at the Cape, we booked a dinner/train ride in Hyannis. We appreciated the special treatment!

The ticket taker (it was bumpy to get clear pictures!) punched my ticket in heart-shaped.

After a delicious dinner and a yummy hot apple dessert, we were given champagne (first alcohol we have literally had in years), applauded by everyone in the train car and serenaded by saxophone.

We had to smile at the memory the little bottle of champagne brought back. When George proposed at the Chart House, he had them deliver a small bottle of champagne.

Some photos from the ride:

50 years and still making memories

2025-11-01T19:30:00.001-04:00

For our 50th anniversary we decided to go to one of our favorite places, Cape Cod. We splurged for a ground floor room on the ocean in South Yarmouth. It was beautiful. Here was the view from our room.

It was beautiful but overcast every day.

There was a huge colony of seagulls who lived here. I joked that there were 50 for our anniversary. There were actually more!

But I loved watching these little guys best of all--how quickly they move their little legs! I believe they are sandpipers.

On afternoon, a little bunny hung out with us munching away on the grass. He didn't mind us sitting there for quite a while.

The day before we were to leave, the winds picked up. At the National Seashore we could barely walk the beach. These were the waves back at South Yarmouth.

This is the view from the ocean of where we stayed.

Now the big mystery for us was that we noticed (how could we not) a pickup truck on the beach across the river (I believe it was Seagull Beach) and it was parked as far down as it could (though the park was closed at dusk) and pointing its lights into the ocean. I saw them a little one night and assumed they were night fishing or something. But the next night was when the wind picked up and they surely weren't fishing. The lights did light up the white caps well and I wondered if they were photographers, but I would say that was not the case either because they were there from dusk to dawn! All night they were there with their lights on the ocean. I asked several people at the resort and no one had any clue. Unfortunately, this appears it will be a great mystery for us.

Next post more of our celebrating.

50 Memories of 50 years #32

2025-10-31T17:19:00.002-04:00

Our marriage certificate and the vows we took 50 years ago.

The vows:

50 Memories of 50 years #31

2025-10-31T16:58:00.003-04:00

We were married by Reverand Bruce Anderson at the Norfolk Congregational Church on November 1, 1975 in Norfolk, CT. Rev. Anderson gave us a copy of the message he gave during our wedding ceremony. And of course, I still have it.

50 Days Remembering 50 years Day #30

2025-10-22T21:32:00.001-04:00

Birchwood

I recently rediscovered some very old (50 years to be exact) postcards from the resort that we stayed at on our honeymoon in the Poconos. This was the little plane that we were supposed to ride in on Monday, then Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday--all too windy. Friday was the last chance and they took four people up on one flight. When they came back they said it was too windy and they could only take two and up we went. I had been dreading it every day and George was looking forward to it all week.

Well, I enjoyed it and his hands were sweating (we were holding hands) because he knew it was a rough ride. He did not enjoy it so much. Looking at this postcard now, I am surprised I went on such a small plane and I would be nervous all again should I have the opportunity again.

This postcard are pictures of the dining areas and the bowling alley. There was a miniature golf course, swimming pool and other activities. If it were still open we would happily return this year.

This is a postcard we received keeping us up to date on the schedule of the group that entertained us at Birchwood. I guess ruffles were in that year because George wore a ruffled shirt at our wedding.

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #29

2025-10-22T08:24:00.001-04:00

I Do? or I Will?

I recently found a recording of when we took our wedding vows. I haven't listened to it. Maybe we should to see how well we have kept those vows.

But one thing I clearly remember is when the pastor said, "Will you, Debbie take George to be your husband?" I said, "I will." When he asked George "Will you...?" George replied the standard answer that we've seen in all the movies, "I do."

I was only 22 when we got married. Boy, was I young. So young that I panicked. After we walked down the aisle past our friends and family and after the receiving line, we saw the pastor. I immediately asked him if because George said "I do" instead of "I will" if it was legal? Naive me. Yes, we have been legally married all these years.

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #28

2025-10-21T09:21:00.001-04:00

Kids

I guess they are my fault. We did talk briefly about having kids before we got married. It wasn't something that George thought about. I remember telling him that to me, it was having something we created together and having a piece of us to carry on. I guess I convinced him.

The other stipulation I had was we would have more than one. I was not going to have an only child like I was. We also agreed that two was plenty. We did not need a houseful of kids.

Both times it seemed to take a little longer to get pregnant than we had hoped. We were married 3 1/2 years before Tiffany was born. I was hoping for only two years between the kids, but Benjamin came along three years later. This is how we told my parents about the second one--of course, we were there in person when they opened the card.

Tiffany and Benjamin changed our lives immensely. Children are an awesome blessing, expense, joy-bringer, heartbreakers. The good always outweighed the bad. Sure, there were times they had me on my knees in prayer, but there were so many happy and proud moments too. I never realized how hard being a parent was. You question your actions and re-actions. You wonder what you are doing wrong and hope you are doing more things right in bringing up kids. Unfortunately, it's a learn-as-you-go process and there is no turning back once you've messed up. You learn and move forward and try to do better.

I am forever grateful for my two kids and I am proud of them. They are great human beings and a blessing to the earth--couldn't ask for more than that. Well, they also gave us grandchildren--wow. Until you get there, you don't know how awesome that is!

As for their names, Tiffany was narrowed down to Tiffany, Bethany and Sabra (George's grandmother). I will admit that the first time I heard the name Tiffany was the name of one of the teens on American Bandstand. For Benjamin, we were taking an old testament Bible study. I loved Elijah. George was afraid he would get teased--too close to Eliza. So, we went with Benjamin Elijah. I was happy when Ben named his youngest son, Elijah Joseph (Joseph after my Dad). He can go by Eli or EJ, but the latter he hasn't taken a liking to, but might one day, who knows?

This is taking so long to do these posts, that I can't dig up all the photos I would like to share. I hope to update at another date. In the meantime, here's some.

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #27

2025-10-18T19:54:00.001-04:00

Follow up to the last post, in my savings (I learned to save from my parents), I found this letter that my parents wrote to me the night before George and I got married. Here is some of it. Now I am wondering did I write to them the night before? I did find a letter after the wedding that I wrote to them. I'll have to re-find that and take pictures for here. Such loving and caring parents.

50 Days Remembering 50 Years Day #26

2025-10-18T19:41:00.002-04:00

Letters

In my parent's savings, I recently found this letter that they saved. It was a letter my husband-to-be wrote to my parents the night before our wedding. Here is part of it. What a sweet thing to do.

50 Days of Remembering 50 years Day #25

2025-10-08T09:53:00.003-04:00

In the News

I feel like over the years we have been in newspapers more often than is average. I am taking the easy way out here and just letting these articles speak for themselves. I am sure that I have more and will share them when I find them.

I will admit that there is one of George and a couple of me that is pre-knowing each other, but I decided to include them. I have also included some articles of relatives. I know there are several more, at least.

These are just in random order.

Okay, this one my dearest sister friend, Kathy, can be seen but not me sitting next to her.

It's funny that I saved this one, Kathy and I are way in the back watching the Polar Plunge in Winsted.

I'm sure there are even more!

"For we are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works."

Ephesians 2:10

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #24

2025-10-08T07:17:00.001-04:00

Parties

Growing up my parents always made sure that I had great birthday parties with games and prizes and food. I carried on their tradition into our new lives.

Our first adult party was a Halloween party. It was a year after we were married. We were living on Stony Hill--that was the name of our first homestead (named by the previous owners who built the house). It was a 450-foot-long driveway and people parked at the bottom of the hill and walked up. We always remember Joe Sverni, one of our groomsmen from the wedding, rented a gorilla outfit and he hid halfway up the driveway behind a tree and scared the heck out of the people walking up! They were all such good sports for that party--a silly scavenger hunt ending with singing something like "OwagooseIam" around a potty chair (try to say it) and having to retrieve the final thing from the potty chair. (it was dark outside, but it was a hot dog.) We were just big kids, I guess. We had silly games--feeding each pudding with a spoon but blindfolded; racing to eat donuts hanging from strings--no hands allowed. I think everyone had a good time. Everyone came in costumes and all participated in everything.

Thus was the beginning. Most of our parties afterwards were children's birthday parties every year. It took weeks to plan the activities and games and goodies and goody bags too. Themes were baseball, dinosaurs and even a theatrical party with an "Academy" award.

George and I have thrown several milestone birthday parties for each other. He has not been able to surprise me. It's pretty hard to surprise me. I am pretty observant about what's going on. I do appreciate, though, that he did take the initiative.

I have put a push on me with these daily deadlines for this blog and can't easily find the photos that I would like to include, but in the future, I will try to add some to have for our memories in these posts.

"This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it."

Psalm 118:24

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #23

2025-10-06T21:36:00.000-04:00

Collections

George's mother collected spoons and salt and pepper shakers. My Mom collected elephants, Beanie Babies and postcards. My Aunt collected Hummels. My Grandmother collected knickknack shoes or slippers. It was just a thing that evolved. Someone would declare something they liked and everyone would often give that person that themed gift at Christmas or birthday. And such collections grew and grew.

My Mom was the fulfiller of collections. If you said you liked a theme, she would forever grow your collection. For me it was lighthouses. I have a pretty great collection of lighthouses--tiny ones and ones that are electric and light up. I had a lighthouse cookie jar and lighthouse dishes.

It was easy for us to find a souvenir spoon wherever we went for George's mother. I don't know how it started but George had gotten probably a handful of key chains and it was decided he was collecting them. He did put them on a display board and amassed quite a few. That was another easy gift to find.

Ben collected nutcrackers for a while and Tiffany fancy dolls. Ben was also into baseball cards and other cards and some comic books. Tiffany's biggest collection was these adorable little miniature figures. We thought they had been lost in our basement or attic but a few years ago I found them and happily gave them all back to her one Easter.

I don't know how many people still collect things of a particular theme. Of course, we have had to tell everyone "No more!". George gave away most of his collection to another collector. I've halted the growth of mine, but have not yet started purging, but after going through my mother's elephants, I probably should do that. Oh, the fun my family is going to have going through the things I save. I think the first thing I saved was paper--yes, paper. I had a paper drawer in my dresser and used scrap paper for writing. I didn't want to be without something to write on.

I have always had a fascination and can't resist a good rock--one with character. And of course, there are my couple of jars of sea glass--all the pieces were hunted down and captured--a prize from hours of walking the beach. Now I have my Mom's sea glass too. Oh, and I collected stamps from when I was a child--foreshadowing my future postal job?

George doesn't really collect much else, unless tools and screws and things like that count. He does have a small classic model car collection that my parents helped him with, but then he said, "no more". He has a perfect little display.

I don't know what makes some of us have that inner drive to save. Why am I a collector (don't call me a hoarder!)? Maybe optimistic people see the potential in everything--like my paper collection, as a child and now other things for craft supplies for the grandkids, or there are other things like George's tools and screws and things that can save us from buying more in the future. Lighthouses are a saving beacon reminding me of Jesus being the light of the world. I like what they represent. Photographs deliver precious memories. Rocks and sea glass are found treasures. I feel like I "earned" them. I have justifications for everything. I still maintain people who collect are optimistic.

Yes, we have collections. I know we can't take it with us, but it's a hobby and I think it releases dopamine and makes us feel good. I know the minimalists don't understand but I do know it's an internal thing and I also know, this is just an earthly pleasure or curse, whichever way you look at it.

"But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and rust do not destroy..."

Matthew 6:20

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years day #22

2025-10-05T22:39:00.000-04:00

Visting Relatives

My parents' family were from Salem, NH and Lawrence, MA--quite close to each other. So, at least a couple times of year we made a long day trip, over 2 hours up to spend a day visiting both of my parents' sides of the family. They usually came down to see us once a year too. On Dad's side of the family we visited my grandparents and Uncle Joe, who lived with them. Sometimes we would see other Aunts but typically it was these three. I recently found this newspaper article of my grandparents when they celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary, ironically. They used to put these things in local newspapers.

They lived in a small house in Salem, NH. My parents often brought Kentucky Fried Chicken takeout to them. As soon as the meal was done, the table was cleared and the games of setback began. They were serious card players and started me in the game when I was 7 years old. We played as teams and I was often nervous, because I knew they wanted to win. Setback wasn't so bad, but they also played this game called 45's. That game is so confusing, but that was one of their favorites too. I needed a cheat sheet to keep things straight. We did do some visiting too and my Grandmother would bring out her old teddy bear that played a song in French and she would sing along. My grandfather would give kids a ride in a wagon he attached to his riding lawnmower. These simple things became tradition and good memories.

As I've been looking at old memorabilia, I found this note my grandfather had written to my parents but there was an enclosure from my grandfather that said, "jokes for George". It makes me smile to think how he took the time to do this and that it meant that he liked George too.

On my mother's side we visited her Aunt Helen and Uncle Bill. This visit was usually just talking and catching up. Aunt Helen's place had everything just so and decorated with her Hummels or handmade crafts. Aunt Helen was very blunt, reminding us how much weight we had gained or anything else she wanted to point out. Uncle Bill had a great sense of humor and he would say things to her that only he could get away with. We held our laughter until the ride home.

Of course, visiting relatives was the main reason for our trip, but we always had a couple of sidetrips.

When my mother was still smoking, we would pick up some cigarettes. They were a lot cheaper in New Hampshire. Another "mandatory" stop was Thwaites Market, an English market. We would sometimes get some little meat pies or other foods, but our reason for stopping was for tomato sausage. We would bring a cooler and buy several pounds to put in our freezer--saving one out to enjoy the day after we got home. I have never seen that for sale anywhere else. Fortunately, Thwaites is still open, so if we really get a hankering for tomato sausage, we can take a road trip.

Our other stop was to Granite State Potato Chips. There was a small building that only sold Granite State Potato chips. You could see the potato chips come through a chute and be filled in boxes or, better yet, they sold buckets that you could buy to have it filled and bring them back to re-fill them. We often brought the buckets back from CT (saving them for the trip months later). They didn't sell any fancy flavors or ripples or unsalted--just regular, delicious potato chips always freshly filled in the boxes or buckets while you wait. I was wondering how my memory served me, so I googled and found the buckets used to hold 128 ounces. I knew it was a lot--more than we could finish on the ride home, fortunately, but never lasted the months before we got back again. Sadly, they closed in 2007 after 102 years in Salem but will always be in our memories.

"These stones are to be a memorial...so that when your children ask, 'What do these stones mean?' you can tell them..."

Joshua 4:6-7

50 Days of Remembers 50 Years Day #21

2025-10-04T19:15:00.000-04:00

Teamwork

I've mentioned before that there were times when I had to help George with his cleaning accounts and the trash route and the cleanout and sprucing up of the rental units. He helped me a few times with things at the post office--only so much he could legally do there.

At home we pretty much have our own "chores". He would say he gets the outside and I get the inside, but it's not actually true because he is a huge help with the laundry--lugging it up and downstairs to the machines. I happily fold. Over the years I have learned we have different views on how certain things are folded and try to do his stuff his way and my stuff my way. The hardest for me is that being left-handed, how we hang clothes on the coat hangers in different directions. It feels so backward to me when I put his shirts on a hanger, but I do it the way he likes.

He is "allergic" to anything having to do with the kitchen--cooking, cleaning, etc. He claims he had his share of cooking when I used to get home from work at 6 pm. He seems to remember cooking the meals. I remember him heating up what I prepared when I was home on my two-hour lunch break--how I hated a two-hour break and how hard it was to go back to work after that.

He will grab a vacuum when he sees the need. We have two bathrooms, and he cleans his and I clean mine. He mows and rakes and all those outside things. He always tries to make repairs on his own before calling a professional. He feels so good when he is successful and grumbles when we have to pay someone else to do it.

Over fifty years, we have put together so many pieces of furniture that needed to be assembled. So many! There are times when we had to undo some steps and backtrack. I usually read the directions and help assemble the parts. I point out the pictures of what should happen. We usually do pretty well together but at times we disagree and have to take a breath to see what is correct.

I think almost worse than assembling furniture, for me, is moving furniture. I foolishly told myself a couple of years ago that my moving furniture days were done. He would have to find someone else to help him. But alas, I guess since he's almost six years older than me, he figures if he can do it, then I can. I hate carrying and moving furniture. It's not just the lifting and carrying, but it's another test of communication. He has it in his mind which way we should be moving and I have to remind him, I don't know what he's thinking.

It's pretty clear to last fifty years, there has had to be a lot of teamwork. Teamwork can be doing things separately or together. I hear some women won't pump their own gas. I'm no woman's libber, but I pump my own gas. Sure, I'd love to be waited on and have him do all, but I don't expect it. Though, I do always ask him for spider relocation. Likewise, he is a pretty strong guy when he gets sick and doesn't expect me to wait on him, yes, I will get him some soup or a drink, but he doesn't ask for much when he is sick.

I plan the vacation itinerary, after the main destination is chosen and he usually drives. We discuss charitable giving. Life has us continually making decisions together. Some choices or chores are not easy.

For those of you who think after fifty years of teamwork, decision making and just living together for that long, that things must be easy, a well-oiled machine. Of course, we know each others quirks or how the other thinks, and know each other very well, but marriage is always give and take and working your way through the storms--if you aren't rowing toward the same direction, you won't get far. Be faithful, find the like-minded parts never sweat all the small stuff and plug on working together being the best team you can be.

"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor. If either of them falls down, one can help the other up."

Ecclesiastes 4:9,10

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #20

2025-10-03T09:21:00.003-04:00

Running

Running was a big part of our lives in the 90's. George took it up and it was an addiction. He went out running every morning before most of us were up. He couldn't miss a day. I remember Christmas morning when the kids woke up and he was out running, I had to hold them off from opening their presents until he got back and took a quick shower.

George also like competing in races. He entered short ones 5K-10K to the mother of all races, a marathon in Rhode Island. He took a while to recover from the marathon. He placed a number of times in his age category.

Now, as I previously posted about "being there", I was there for all his races. Now was I happily there? Often not really to be truthful. I think there is nothing more boring than watching a road race. You cheer them on at the beginning and then you just hang around for half an hour or more to see them come over the finish line. There weren't seats for the spectators to sit on. I would have thought that I could have brought a book to read, but I really don't remember what I did those times.

The most "annoying" one for the family, well, other than holding back the kids at Christmas, was the Manchester Thanksgiving Day Road Race. It's pretty hard to cook a turkey when you are attending a race. My family was always used to an early dinner--1 pm was late for them. That year my Mom had to cook and it was a little annoying to not know what time we would arrive. As someone who often cooks for others, I so get that.

Now I don't like to sound like a bitter old wife. I am truly glad he had this activity that he enjoyed and I know he missed it for many years when he had to stop. I now have arthritis and I didn't run, but I really wonder if running was partly responsible for his knee problems. They say "motion is lotion" but I think too much of anything, even exercise, is not good. Of course, this woman who doesn't like exercising is going to say that!

Our kids each did one race with him. Both, in separate years, participated in the Norfolk 5 Mile Road Race (in CT). Tiffany was around 10, I will have to verify her age. Tiffany came in last, but it came with a "reward". Seth Moseley was a famous journalist that lived in Norfolk at the time. He had covered the Lindbergh baby kidnapping and the Hindenburg disaster. He would traditionally interview the last-place finisher for the Norfolk Road Race. I do have Tiffany's newspaper interview that I will at some point attach to here, but for now I have to get these daily memories out. Tiffany did try running later in life and did run another race, I believe.

Ben was around 6 when he ran the Norfolk Road Race with his Dad. I don't remember how he placed. I know it was at the end of the pack, but he didn't get an interview. Ben did not take up running or race again.

I was always the cheerleader--smiling and cheering at the beginning and end--and grumpy in the middle. Not really. I'm sure I was reading or talking to someone. I am glad he did something he loved.

"I have fought the food fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith."

2 Timothy 4:7

50 Days of Remembering 50 years Day #19

2025-10-02T15:41:00.001-04:00

Cars

Technically I am writing this on day #20 because yesterday I was stranded for over 4 hours due to a car breakdown. Over 3 hours of it was waiting for the promised tow truck. I was upset that I didn't have any reading material in my car and I had just run out to give someone something and was going to go right back home to finish a project I started that was spread out on the kitchen table. I could have finished it yesterday, but it's still spread out and I have a full day of appointments today.

Yesterday was a huge test of patience. I am a pretty patient person, but when you are tested and the anxiety keeps building and building, there is a breaking point.

So, today I am reminded that in over fifty years we have had our share of car issues, and some have been historic. Looking back makes yesterday not so bad. I could make this a countdown of the top 10 worst car memories.

One of the worst times was when both cars were out of commission on Christmas Eve. I really don't remember how long we were without. I just know we were in Norfolk and I remember George being outside with someone working on one car. I remember having to change our Christmas plans.

Tiffany had two nightmares. One she was on the Mass. Pike when she had a flat tire. AAA would not go to change a tire on the highway because it was too dangerous. So, of course, George had to. In retrospect, perhaps we could have called a policeman to block him while he changed it.

Her other one was driving home from Messiah College in Pennsylvania for Thanksgiving. Her car broke down and the good news was that she found a garage who would work on it to get her home for Thanksgiving (I really think we should have sent them goodies or something for their kindness, but we didn't). Poor Tiffany had to stay in a motel by herself for the first time. She could write a story about this, I'm sure.

I will not begin to go into the car horror stories with Ben. I want to forget those.

Before kids, we had a Datsun XL, the only car we bought brand new (and never will do that again). At some point it needed a new engine. We had one put in and the garage put in the wrong size! That ended in a lawsuit.

I truly think the number one worst car nightmare for me, was when we were getting ready to take the kids on vacation to Pennsylvania. We planned to show them some of our favorite sites. I planned car games and snacks (the journey is part of the vacation fun--or so I tried to make it that way). We put on a roof rack and packed it all full and secured it. We all piled into the car and when George went to start it, it wouldn't start. Talk about disappointment.

We had to unpack everything, find a garage and be at their time schedule mercy. Of course, we were using vacation time and couldn't postpone our vacation and didn't want the kids to miss out. I scrambled around and found a resort in Moodus, CT that had an inground pool, a mess hall for meals, crafts and activities. I remember the four of us square dancing together, but sadly the kids don't remember. We took them to an electric plant for a tour down there and free Louey the Lightning Bug merchandise. It wasn't a big get away, but at least we did get away for a few days. But imagine a car all packed for a great vacation and having to unpack everything and the disappointment.

For me a car is something to get me from here to there. We had a Corvair convertible for a short while. I really don't care for convertibles. I'm afraid I'll lose something blowing away. My first car, my Chevy II Nova was my baby. I was so sad when we had to sell it due to rusting floor. The person buying it was going to take it to California. I wonder if Benjamin Blue made it. My son says, "So I was named after a car!"

George's first car was a VW bug and he didn't have that long before he rolled it and that was that.

We have had a lot of cars over 50 years. I think our favorite was our Hyundai Sonata. It was the most loyal car ever!

George's dream car would be a Checker. Mine? Like I said, get me from here to there but I do like my current Nissan Rogue that I "accidently" got. With three car seats in the back, it is my Grammy mobile--well for the littles. I have to switch cars when I get the older ones.

Cars, sometimes exasperating but a blessing and we can't live without them.

"Consider it pure joy...when you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance...so that you may be mature and complete."

James 1:2-4

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #18

2025-09-30T09:03:00.002-04:00

The Rescue

This time I am just repeating a memory that I already wrote about in a post on December 13, 2009.

My husband, George, has his own cleaning business. He is fortunate to have commercial accounts that he cleans when they are closed, so he doesn't have to be there at a specific time, but he does have to have them cleaned by or on a particular day depending on the account.

Now I don't memorize his schedule. I basically know the names of his accounts, but I get confused as to where he is at what time. It's a "not need to know" as I only care as to what time he will be coming home so to know what time dinner will be. It varies every day, but I have an approximate idea. On his latest night, Friday, he gives me a call when he's twenty minutes away so I can have dinner ready. It's usually 7 pm but has been 8 pm if he decides to work on another account to free up some of the Saturday work, or once in a while he runs to Home Depot to pick up something or he may stop at the rental units. There are a number of reasons why he could be running late.

This past Friday, we had spoken earlier in the day, and I truly believed he'd be home before 7 pm, but I wasn't sure. When he wasn't I did try calling his cell but I just got his voice mail. I had prepared one of his favorite meals and had taken a chance and cooked it and was trying to keep it warm. By 8 pm I was wondering where he was but thought he wouldn't mind if I'd eat without him. I did and turned off the food figuring he'd have to reheat it in the microwave at this point. I was a little annoyed that he didn't have the courtesy to call to say he was going to be this late. Maybe he stopped at a fast-food place and wouldn't even need dinner. That happens on a rare occasion.

Well, as the minutes go by, I was starting to get nervous. I did try calling several times more and no answer. He doesn't always keep his phone on or handy. At 9 pm I decide it's time to take action and track him down. One more call, no answer and I knew I had to go look for him. Okay, where should I look? I thought I knew which account he'd be at, but if he had a problem at the earlier account, he could be there. I had to go through his files to find the addresses, and I am not sure if I could have found one place. I've been before but didn't pay attention to exactly where it's located and it is on a back road.

All the horrible thoughts passed through my mind--a heart attack or he'd fallen and broken something and couldn't move and had left his cell phone in the car (which he sometimes does), his car could have broken down and he could be freezing, or as someone worded it, "He pulled a Tiger Woods"--well it was a fleeting thought because I personally know someone who went through that ordeal recently, but just fleeting. I was mostly worried. Of course, your mind goes to the worst and I imagined being a widow and then silly mind, people would come to my house, and it was a mess. Well, I couldn't tidy now, I had to save him--if he needed saving.

It was a freezing night, and I was shaking from the cold and my nerves. As I drove in the night, I tried to see the vehicles going past me in the opposite direction to see if he was heading home. I knew the shape of his car but was trying to remember the license number as those reflected in the dark. None of the numbers looked familiar and none of the shapes. It was about twenty minutes before I got to the first account I was going to try. There was his car!

I looked in the windows and saw his coat but not him. The doors were locked and I knocked and yelled. These are heavy duty windows and doors and a big building, so it was not likely he would hear that. I walked all around ad looked in as many windows as I could in the hard crusty snow. I tried all the doors and banged on them. Then I pulled my car right up to the door and honked and honked hoping he would hear and come. I did all this before calling 911 because I was afraid if he was just cleaning that the police would fine me or reprimand me for calling when there wasn't an emergency. The police station was only a few miles away and I thought about driving to ask them but I called 911.

They were there in less than five minutes without sirens. They proceeded to ask me if he had any medical issues and I told them but I also told them that I thought there had been issues with the elevator in the building. They pounded on the door and yelled. They walked around. The fire department was supposed to send someone too and they found an employee of the company who would come with a key but before the others arrived, the police were able to get through a window.

As soon as the cop went in he yelled George's name and he heard the elevator buzzer. He was stuck in the elevator--for four hours! Soon a fireman came and the employee. There were instructions in an office with a key to some panel that enabled them to free up the elevator stuck between floors.

It was a happy ending. I should have George write a separate blog of his end of the story--cell phones don't work in elevators, there was a spot for emergency call box, but no phone, the emergency buzzer does not go to police station but just in the building which does no good when it's vacant, or he thought maybe if he didn't just push it but tried to spell out Morse Code. He had no fears of a major blackout or end of the world (as my mind would surely have gone) because he had a light in the elevator and he could hear the furnace kick on but he did start getting cold as he had been working in a t-shirt. He was using the elevator to move his cleaning equipment and garbage barrel. He tried to wrap garbage bags around him for warmth. He figured the worst-case scenario would be that he would be there until 9 am the next morning, so he tried to turn his paper towels into a pillow. There is no way to get comfy in an elevator. He actually had a book on him, thank God, and was able to pass some time reading, but he was hungry too.

George and the police tried to make me a hero. Who wouldn't go out looking for their husband/wife in that case? I feel in no way a hero. I told him that if he ever did "pull a Tiger Woods" that I would hunt him down! He said, "sure and where would you look first?" I said I'd call up his boss and find out all the names of his elderly dial-a-ride customers. We laughed.

Two people from the business did call the next day to check as to how he was doing (he said maybe they are worried about a law suit--which crossed his mind), but I do hope that they do something special for him. He is not quitting this account, but he has figured out that he can put the vacuum and trash barrel in the elevator and let them ride by themselves while he takes the stairs--not pleasing to his arthritis, but I'm sure he will never take that elevator again. Surprisingly, it has not soured him to elevators in general, as I'm sure it would for me, but then again, how often are we in buildings with no one else in it?

As Shakespeare said, "All's well that ends well."

"I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire.."

Psalm 40:1-2

50 Days of Remembering 50 years Day #17

2025-09-29T09:31:00.000-04:00

The Blizzard of '78

For those of us that lived through the Blizzard of '78, it's one of those, "where were you?" moments. What made it worst was that the weathermen did not prepare us enough. Seems they didn't see it coming themselves. Too many people were left stranded on the roads trying to get home. Some died of carbon monoxide poisoning stranded in their cars. Some people were stuck at their workplaces, some children were stuck at school for two nights. I've read accounts of people taking shelter in a movie theater off the highway eating popcorn. For you younger folk who don't know what I'm talking about, here is a pretty good article: Remembering the 1978 Blizzard - New England Historical Society

The snow started on February 6 in the morning and fell for 33 straight hours with wind gusts and drifting snow. The snow, they say at times falling 4 inches an hour, accumulated to up to 2 feet, however we lived in Norfolk, CT aka the icebox of CT known to get more snow than most of the state. Some records say we received 30"-36" and that doesn't include the drifting. I had to look up these facts to refresh my memory.

Our story of the Blizzard of '78: George was working in Hartford. I worked in Bloomfield and carpooled with another woman from Norfolk. Remember this was before cell phones. I'm trying to remember and decipher the timing. We must have left work before the usual 4 pm. The normal ride home was an hour. According to my AI, as my memory is eluding me, it probably took 2-3 hours to get to Winsted.

When we reached Winsted between 6-7 pm in the dark, we decided to go to the Subway grinder shop, which was open, to see if we could call our husbands and to take a break from the intense ride. We had no clue if they were home or stranded somewhere. We went in and moments later, in walks George. If you see the pictures of the roads and the fact that we were coming from different places, you can see just how miraculous this was. What a God wink!

George had his car, so after recouping for a moment, we decided to try and make it home the last ten miles. It was rough, but we made it. Obviously, we couldn't drive up our 450-foot-long uphill driveway, so we trudged up it on foot. I am sure I was never so happy to be home and with George. We could have been stranded anywhere.

I don't recall losing our power for the two days that we were stranded home. I really don't remember anything more. I just remember how grateful we were that God led us to each other and got us safely home through the worst winter storm that we have ever experienced.

"In their hearts, humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps."

Proverbs 16:9

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #16

2025-09-28T09:29:00.000-04:00

Being There

Being there sometimes means work. When you have your own business, you often need help.

When we lived up in Norfolk, George had a newspaper delivery route. It was the Winsted Evening Citizen, so delivery was in the afternoon. I don't know if he started the route with a standard shift but he had a three shift on the column and 2nd shift didn't work. He needed my help to sit in the backseat and stuff the newspapers in the boxes.

The most memorable day of delivering newspapers was August 16, 1982. We had made one stop along the route to grab a candy bar at the store and got home about 6 pm to get dinner. As soon as I got out of the car, nine months pregnant, my water broke. So, off we went to the hospital. I wasn't allowed to eat of course, so I was thankful I had had that Snickers bar. Ben was born the next morning at 4:45 am. The subs George had trained and lined up for when I went to the hospital bailed on us, so George had to do the route alone and I felt pretty alone that 2nd time having a baby because no one else came to visit.

Later George also had a morning newspaper delivery (different car). He would leave in the wee hours of the morning. I stayed with the kids, but on Saturdays I helped him get the Sunday inserts ready. They often gave extra and I enjoyed the benefits of extra coupons--something I was seriously into in those days.

One of George's first business ventures was a trash collection business. This was before the big trash trucks were making routes in the small towns. He took over another's route and every Saturday would pick up trash and load it into his pick up truck and then unload it off the bed at the landfill. We actually benefitted from "one person's trash...." We got an outdoor patio set, TV and other things other people were done with but we happily adopted.

On Saturday mornings, I worked at the Post Office. When my shift was over, he would swing by and pick me up and I'd help him finish the route.

I mentioned all the other business ventures we tried in a previous post. We were co-partners in all of those.

When he ran for office, I helped campaign door to door. One memory from that was knocking at a screen door and a dog came running from inside and jumped at the door and it crashed down on me. How I kept my balance, I don't know.

Then there were times with George's cleaning business that I needed to help him complete some jobs. He did get to a point when he hired some employees, but if they call in sick, you have to do it and you can never call in sick. The worst was when everyone else gets a few days off, George didn't get any days off when his mother died. He was a hard worker.

The other occupation we kind of shared, was being landlords. I really felt it was his job, but there were many times we had to work together, especially when tenants abandoned the apartment and left some unbelievable messes.

So, even though I don't remember it in our vows, we were there for each other in work.

"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: if either of them falls down, one can help the other up."

Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #15

2025-09-27T09:10:00.001-04:00

Being There

The next few posts will center on being there for one another.

Our family tries to support one another in good times and bad times. From our kids' sports games, plays, ceremonies, graduations to being in the pet parade or getting them to scouts or Awanas or whatever. We were always there cheering them on, supporting them, maybe making a costume or helping remember lines or Bible verses. We cannot count the times we were "there". Even as they became adults, we can still say we have been and will be "there".

We have been there for grandkids too as our new descendants have increased. It is harder the older we get, but I try to live doing what I can do, while I still can do it. I know it blesses me just as much as it blesses them.

When my Dad was in the senior talent shows, we were there to cheer him on.

We were there when our parents needed help. When George's mother was nearing the end of her life, we had her live with us for a short while. We gave up our bed for her. George slept on the living room couch, and I slept on the floor in a sleeping bag in Tiffany's room. When my Mom was in the hospital at the end of her life, I went to visit her every single day for a month. We saw my Dad through so many hospital and nursing home stays and did what we could for him. When our parents were living, we were sure to make sure they were not alone on holidays. We tried to always think of them, and I still do every day even though they are not with us on earth.

We have also tried to be there for others outside of the family. Over the years we hope many others have felt blessed by our actions.

George and I have been there for each other through the losses of loved ones, troubling times, in sickness and hardships, but we have also been there in the good times--throwing each other special birthday parties and celebrating in special moments.

I have attended several Veteran programs to honor George's military service. from special CT awards and Vietnam awards, visiting the wall together, and I spoke when he received the local Veteran of the Month award. As you can see from the photos, our family was there for him too.

George has been there for me when I was sworn in as postmaster

when we had a special "Heartland" stamp unveiling and other postal milestones, including retirement.

He was supportive and helpful in the publishing of my book. When I had the book launch, family also showed up for support.

I know there were many more times I could mention. We've lived through a lot in 50 years. In good times and bad, we have been there for each other.

"Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing."

I Thessalonians 5:11

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #14

2025-09-25T16:09:00.002-04:00

The Pets

The problem with this blog anniversary memories in 50 days is that I forgot how long it would take to find the pictures for each one. I may have to go back and add pictures to a lot of them later.

I debated on writing this one, but our furry family members were a part of our journey. Memories are bittersweet because our little ones have all passed away and several had tragic outcomes.

Our first furry friend was a foster child...when George's mom moved into senior housing, she couldn't have pets so we took in Charley. She was a small black terrier dog. I don't remember how long she lived with us. I have one funny memory (well for us) of her. When George's mother lived in her house, George always went in and immediately Charley would jump on the couch and let George wrestle with her. It was a habit. Well, we all know habits are hard to break. One time the couch got moved and when George walked in, Charley jumped to where the couch had been and hit the wall. She was ok but boy did we laugh about that.

I used to take her for rides in the car and twice she gave me quite the scares. Tiffany was a baby both times and the first time I had to pull over into the reservoir parking lot and do something with Tiffany. I got back in the car and drove a couple of miles when I realized Charley was not in the car! I panicked. This was my mother-in-law's baby. I couldn't be responsible for losing her. My mind flashed to someone picking her up or her getting hit by a car. I sped back using my flashers to let people know I was intentionally speeding. When I got to the parking lot, Charley was pacing back and forth not knowing what to do. What a relief!

The other time was in Riverton and I don't remember the exact sequence of events but somehow Charley had jumped up to the window when I was outside of the car and she had pushed down the lock button on the car. Tiffany and Charley were locked in the car! Real panic set in!

Fortunately for me, a kind man came by, went to his nearby home and got a coat hanger and was able to unlock the door--a "hack" that we had heard about and with the window open a crack, it worked.

Charley died on a Good Friday, my parents beloved Sir Lancelot, who I lived with for many years, died on Easter at different year. It is so hard to lose pets.

We decided to wait until we had a house, and the kids were older to let them have pets. Every stupid year the teachers seemed to have the kids write about pets and we always got bugged to get pets. It was a conspiracy. Ben wanted a dog and Tiffany wanted a cat. So, we adopted Patches, a black and white springer terrier mix and Lacy, an adorable black bundle of fir.

Patches, born on January 8th, Elvis's birthday, was our "hound dog". He gave us all the unconditional love a dog gives. He lived with us thirteen years. I am going to do brief memories of all because I still miss them and will get sentimental.

Lacy was born to a barn cat and the mother didn't have all her vaccinations. Lacy, therefore, had feline leukemia and only lived about 6 or 9 months from when we got her. That was so devastating that Tiffany was hesitant for us to get another cat.

This time we decided to get two brothers to keep each other company. They were tiger cats who we named Dickens and Linus. They sure lived up to their names. We kept our cats as indoor kitties to keep them from the dangers of living outside and to hopefully give them long lives. Well, Dickens was a Dickens and always found ways to escape to outside. I couldn't understand one day how I kept putting him in the house and then I realized he was outside again. He had found a screen window which didn't latch properly below.

Linus ended up being our little lion-hearted kitten. It turns out he was born with a bad heart and he died only a few months later. When we knew he wasn't well, we decided to get another cat to keep Dickens company when he was gone.

So, we got our gray striped Joshua. He was named that by the cat foster lady and we kept it because he meowed a lot like Joshua of Jericho making noise around the city.

Dickens developed intestinal problems and after several hundreds of dollars that were only going to mount up to more that we couldn't afford, well, you know what we had to do--a heart wrenching memory that I didn't really want to bring up, but it was part of our lives.

So, we were left with Joshua and Patches. Joshua stayed with us 17 years. I loved that little kitty and I would love another one so much but I do not want to go through the pain and heartbreak of losing another pet. Plus, at this point in our lives, they may outlive us and empathetic me thinks about how they would feel for the loss. I think way too far ahead. Plus I always felt guilty whenever I left them home alone. For my mental well-being, I am better off without a pet, but I am grateful for the time with our beloved. pets.

"A righteous man cares for the needs of his animal, but the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel."

Proverbs 12:10