At the start of April, some of my aunts and uncles mentioned to my Grandmother, Mary Sheahan, that her birthday was coming up, reminding her that her birthday is April 10. “Oh,” she said as casually as if she were discussing the bus schedule. “I’m not going to make that.” She passed away less than… Read more »
This past weekend the wife and I packed our two baby girls into their car seats and drove upstate (upstate defined as north of the Bronx/Westchester border) to celebrate the 90th birthday of my Grandmother, Mary Sheahan. They don’t make New Yorkers like Mary Sheahan anymore. My Grandmother immigrated from Ireland and went through Ellis… Read more »
“Tommy, get my bag,” My grandmother barked. It was February 1965, I was 11. ‘Oh, Christ,’ I thought. Slowly, I made my way through the railroad flat looking for Nan’s pocketbook. The gang box weighed more than my little brother, and when I heaved the thing up, I imagined Nan in the audience on… Read more »
