1976. From Paguate, New Mexico, during a church mission trip. To my G-ma (Grandma Blocher).
I would hit my 15th birthday a few days later.
Two photos of Mom, found in my father’s belongings:
Ruth Blocher (my maternal grandmother, known as “G-ma”) and her sister Esther (my beloved great-aunt) and I wrote aerograms to my parents when they were in Argentina.
I later moved to faxing, and then to email. And of course I started with letters before realizing that aerograms were cheaper.
G-ma (who had just turned 84 at the time) posted this aerogram to my parents on July 21, 1992. Her first paragraph recounts seeing me as Horace Vandergelder in a performance of Hello, Dolly! at Blue Springs City Theatre earlier that month.
“Friday as I told you I went to Auntie’s, we picked up the girls in L.S. and went to the play. It was good good great. I hadn’t laughed so much in a long time. He yelled and screamed at everyone until Dollie got to him then he was mild as could be. When the old beat down man part came he was perfect. Of course from then on he turned on the charm and smile. I’m sure glad we didn’t miss that one. Rich several times I saw you up there on the stage.”
Amongst the items I inherited from Aunt Esther is this antique china cabinet. This stood in the alcove in her dining room on Clinton Street in Columbia.
Filled with memorabilia from her life, it stayed with her at Foxwood Springs in Raymore, Missouri until her dying day. And then a month later it found a home in my own dining room.
This china cabinet now holds priceless memories: my mother’s collection of Fireking Jadeite china, Grandma Carter’s formal china, Grandma Blocher’s stemware, a few pieces of Great-Grandmother Blocher’s china, some of my mother’s crystal serving dishes, serving bowls from various relatives, and so on. Plus a lovely bone china set I purchased at an antique store in Indiana 15 years ago.
And sitting beside the china cabinet is my Grandma Carter’s violin.
I was looking through some old photos this weekend and found this letter from my maternal grandmother Ruth Blocher (who we always called G-ma) to me. The letter is undated. But I apparently was having some bladder control issues as a child . . . .
I of course took her advice, and can vouch: it’s more comfortable that way.