years later on your porch, walking a mile from the diner with food and having a half a glass of wine with you and friends. Good memories. Great photo.

great brows!

What was the occasion? I'd make a guess as to the heritage (Italian?) but I'd probably be wrong.

I also see a few waist hugs and balloons!

I can't count that high.

Use your toes when you run out of fingers!

I have crayons that I count on too!

Speaking of counting high... I just took my first gummy.

The blue ones taste like blueberries!

Don't take another gummy, whatever you do! I've made that mistake a few times!

I took half and I'm waiting for sleep hopefully.


That's why i got them anyways lol

Why are they all women?

I'm guessing early 1940s. She married in 1938, and this is after she was married, because there's a lot of my dad's family in that pic.

She was born in 1918.

So your mom was born in say...1947 or 1948?

I married into a family of Greeks. They FILLED our house on holidays after our son was born. My wife had to find me in the garage. I was terrified. In my honky family, get-togethers always went haywire, so I was all a-tremble for years.
I really miss those days and all those wacky people. Attrition worked its magic, and now we're a party of five.
They subsumed my honky roots. Now I'm the Avgolemono Soup and Baklava Guy.
Good for you!!! How fortunate you are. You must have some great memories. Smile!!!! Stay with it.

The memories...

I sometimes used to get anxiety around my extended family...simply because they were all hell raisers and there were so many of them.

And they were all kissers...both the men and the women.

If they didn't see you for a few days, and then you met up, you'd end up with a wet face from the kisses!

The memories...everyone is gone now. The losses are hitting me the past few days...I miss those times.

But she seemed a helluva fun person.

She was a pistol, and she kind of had a sixth sense.

She only liked two of my girlfriends over the years...my first girlfriend, and my wife.

She would size people up immediately, and form judgements about them.

I went to visit her in the nursing home once. As I was walking down the hall to her room, an elderly Italian woman grabbed my sleeve and stopped me in my tracks.

She scornfully said "Your mama, she no like me".

But she raised you well, taught you love and compassion. Her spirit and her legacy are very much alive. You are a testament to her. Keep telling her story, maybe others will learn the lesson she taught.

you had a mother.

Holy shit.