“Spring is sprung, the grass is riz. Wonder where dem birdies is.”

Mom came home from working at the drug store and proceeded to recite this poem that a little boy had shared with her that day. It has been a Spring tradition in our family ever since to escort the arrival of Spring with that cute quote! I wish I knew who that little boy is so I can thank him for that happy memory!

The month of May has great importance in the memories of my childhood. May meant only a few more weeks of school left. At St. Joseph Catholic School it was when we celebrated Mary, the mother of Jesus. There would be songs and prayers and great expectations that we would one day grow to be as holy as her! First Communions would take place for the Second graders, usually on Mothers Day. It was a very festive time in our church.

The second Sunday in May was decreed as the day we would try really hard to be good kids and give Mom a break from all our sweet mischief. That usually didn’t happen. We five kids seemingly had mischief thrust upon us. We rarely had to look for it. Mom never had a day free from it — even if the government decreed it! Today mom and I enjoy sharing that special day with my lovely daughters-in-law. Their kids aren’t much different than we were to our mom! God bless those adorable gifts of God!

May was also the month my dad’s parents were married, May 20, 19-something. When Mom and Dad bought their first house, it happened to be right next door to Grandma and Grandad Rusnak. I recall the preparations and celebration of their 50th wedding anniversary. Grandma never cut her hair. It was amazingly strong and the longest hair I had ever seen. She wore it in a bun at the back of her head. She wore dresses down to her ankles, pretty much like you would see in old photographs of days long ago. Grandma’s first name was Julia. To this day that is my very favorite name. She would spend hours sitting in her rocking chair crocheting. There was always a candy dish next to her containing something special… like lemon drops, or mints or spearmint leaves. I loved grandma. She made the best toast I have ever — to this day– tasted. I still don’t know her secret.

During the preparation for their Golden Day, her daughters convinced her to have her hair cut and get a perm. I had never seen her look so beautiful and radiant as she did that day. I was proud to be her granddaughter!

When we would visit, Grandad would give us change from his pocket. My dumb little brother Dan, only wanted pennies. We tried to convince him to tale the other money, but he simply would not relent! So we quit and kept the “big money” for ourselves!

Andrew (Andy) Rusnak was tall and thin, wore wire-rimmed glasses, and sometimes, a straw hat. He was quiet and pleasant. He mostly was happy and laughed at us when we were there. Occasionally, he would raise his voice to settle us down. I always felt safe when I was near him. He sat in his chair and enjoyed television with his pipe. The sweet smell filled the air, and I can replicate that aroma in my imagination to this day.
But there was something about Grandad that I’ve never witnessed in another person. He had 2 sets of eyelashes, one growing inside toward his eye. I know, isn’t that strange??? Dad or one of my uncles would go to my grandparents house. Grandad would sit in his chair, the shade of his floor lamp tilted in a way to give the clearest, best-lit view of his lashes. They would turn his eye lit inside-out and, with the use of tweezers, pull out the extra pair of eye lashes. To me it was the closest thing to torture I had ever seen. But he sincerely appreciated the assistance they rendered. The extra eyelashes were very painful to him.

I don’t remember what month is was, but the first kiss I ever received was under the tree between our two yards. Just as John Lubresky placed that first tender kiss on these very nervous lips, I heard someone cough. It was Grandad! He was standing on his porch! I don’t know if he saw us, but he never said anything to my parents. I appreciated that so much.

Grandad was the first of my grandparents to pass away. He died 10 days before their 51st anniversary. I still miss him.

On with the memories…

Another significant event in May was my brother, Tom’s, birth. Mom was expecting her third child in less than 3 years. Noticing that she was having an odd discharge, she called the doctor. He told her to get to the hospital right away. It took her several hours to find people to watch my sisters and, of course, there was so much to do before the new baby came. When she finally arrived at the maternity ward, the doctor yelled at her. Tom was expiring. That was May 30, 1948. At that time, Memorial Day fell on that date every year. Now, it’s the last Monday in May. Tom did survive and I’m thankful for that. He’s one of my favorite people in the world.

To be continued…