Finding Memories

Dad in Army

A couple of years ago, Mrs. Rambler and I redecorated our home (the first floor, anyway) and part of that process was framing and displaying old family photos that Mrs. Rambler had. The chosen pictures were exclusively from her family because I didn’t think there were any from my family. That proved to be a false assumption on my part.

Following my mother’s death last week, my sister and I were going through old papers and things when my father asked me if I wanted the old photo albums. Being my usual clueless self, I said, “What photo albums?” When I drug them out of their storage place I found a veritable treasure trove of lost memories. Inside the four albums were pictures of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and others that I had either long forgotten, or didn’t even realize existed.

Tarheel Rambler - Age 2 (or so)

Especially of interest to me were pictures of my parents from over 50 years ago. I began to take a trip back through time with each page turn. There was even the infamous picture of the car tire hiding behind me, taken when I was around two years old. I had told Mrs. Rambler about the picture, but figured it was lost long ago during one of the many times my family moved. But there I am in all my glory.

There were pictures of my young family from 30 years ago that reminded me once again how much I have aged. That and the fact that I actually did have hair once-upon-a-time. In fact, I was quite the stud muffin in college, as proven by the picture of me sitting on a boulder. That picture was taken for publicity purposes when the Newman Catholic Student Center at Northern Illinois University nominated me for homecoming king in 1971. I was even elected to a court that included three kings and three queens, elected to represent three different divisions: dorms, Greek organizations and independent clubs/groups. That was probably the highlight of my two years at Northern, and I enjoyed the limelight even though I was elected by default. I was the only male candidate in the independent category. The bad news was that my then-girlfriend was my running mate, and she wasn’t elected. She didn’t appreciate my being paired with another female for most of homecoming weekend.

Tarheel Rambler: College Stud Muffin

There are a lot of pictures in the albums of long dead relatives as well. My grandparents, uncles and aunts, and even a great-grandmother. Seeing their pictures triggered a lot of memories that I hadn’t experienced for many years. It got me to thinking about summers spent in Wyoming with my grandparents, and visits to my mother’s sister in Nebraska. Some of the memories are very pleasant, some sad, and some spark a bit of anger. But every one of those memories involves events and times that define who I am now. And getting in touch with them once again is a good thing.

Paternal Grandparents

Uncle Willie (left) and Mr. Ed?

As I have paged through the pictures, I have had a lot of thoughts about my mother. She worked for many years managing and working in restaurants. She wasn’t a chef, she would tell you, she was “just a cook” who had a lot of experience. But I can say that people enjoyed the dishes she prepared, and she was well-respected by those who employed her. It’s been almost 20 years since she retired, but most of my memories of her have her doing something in a kitchen somewhere.

Mom, circa 1975

I’m not sure I’ve fully grieved for Mom, but I do know that I have an overwhelming sense of relief that she did not suffer at the end. Cancer can be such a cruel, sadistic illness, that tortures and dehumanizes its victims. Luckily, Mom didn’t have to experience that. And I will be eternally grateful for that. In some ways, I feel a little cheated that her final wishes were that there be no funeral services. Maybe that’s why I don’t really feel like I’ve said goodbye yet. But I am thankful that she held on to all of these pictures over the years. Maybe that was her way of saying goodbye. So in her honor, I will do my best to preserve these memories for generations yet to come. That way they will be able to remember Mom, even if they didn’t have the chance to know her.

Dad

Me and My Uncle Rick

Tarheel Rambler - Graduation Day 1970

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