Easter Sunday, 1966. My purse was shiny yellow vinyl. It held a quarter for the offering plate, and a special hankie that came with a story. My mother was abandoned by her parents when she was eight. Six days after she was delivered to the grandmother who had agreed to raise her, the little girl held in her hand a square of soft linen embroidered with a dozen tiny French knots of lavender lilacs.
I love every memory you shared. This, however, is the line I will now borrow forever: children don’t just push their parents’ buttons, they install them.
My husband and his mother were two sides of the same coin and they could fight like gladiators. I asked her once why she pushed his buttons the way she did. Her reply: “because I know where they are. I put them there.” I was speechless.
The first time I worked the tiny fingers of our eldest daughter into the crocheted gloves that had been mine as a little girl in Paris on an Easter Sunday, my Kansan husband laughedu till he cried. My daughter cried too. Those gloves and mine (which had been my mother’s) still exist, layered in tissue in my dresser.
Connie Schultz...if you aren't already working on it, it might be time for a memoir. You tell wonderful snippets from your life, but sometimes it's hard to connect the pieces and some parts are missing :)
Such a sweet story told by the heart. So many memories that words must be used to remember, not just pictures. You've lived many lives, Connie, and now are touching so many who will remember their story because of yours. Have a lovely day!
I absolutely loved this memory - we also wore white gloves and a hat for the same reason. I had a shiny black vinyl purse used year round with shiny black patent shoes to go with it, we only had a dime for the collection plate though, but the rest of this story rings actually very much like ours. In my mom’s case, her dad died when she was 9 and her mom when she was 20 - so she was the repository for all the stories about how hard their life had been and hers was when she was small, and how we should absolutely remember that we have it good! I was also the oldest which meant my whole life I was responsible for my brother. Which is something I shouldered and when my brother was a terminal cancer patient at age 50, I left my job to take care of him then. Family is both everything, a blessing and sometimes also painfully difficult. I hope if you are celebrating, you have a wonderful Easter.
So many memories that are like my own. I’m the oldest sister who had to set a good example, & same age as Caroline Kennedy. Our pictures were JFK and the pope. Thanks for the walk down a very similar memory lane.
Yes! I too was born in ,not only the wake of Caroline Kennedy’s birth, but also just after the birth of Princess Grace of Monaco’s daughter Caroline in 1957. Our mom talked about “Jackie” and “Grace” as if they had all delivered babies in the same hospital. Until I knew better, I thought that somehow my mom WAS connected to Jackie and Grace, mostly because I had no idea who they were. I assumed they were neighbors who had moved away. Funny how these memories serve somehow to making me feel rooted in a community, which, I have to say, Connie Schultz’s writing also does.
Thank you Connie, I so enjoyed your story. I sit at 3.30am on a hotel balcony in rural South Australia, having gone to sleep so early I am now awake. We drove all Easter Sunday, also our 33 wedding anniversary (married on an Easter Sunday) from regional NSW. No one was coming home this year, so we are off on a bit of an adventure to stay with olive growing and judging friends of my husband's, in a wine district. We drove for over seven hours. We enjoyed leftover lamb roast on brioch buns for lunch enroute. Only three to go today. Happy Easter.
Thank you for this! We were just sharing a similar photo, white gloves and all, from 1966 in our family chat this morning. The stories behind the photos!
Thank you for sharing this part of your life with us, Connie. A friend in grad school said, Your mother knows where your buttons are--she sewed them on.
This is such a beautiful memory. It made me both sad and yet smile, as it brought up so many shared memories of growing up at that time. By the way, I'm the middle child, the one always referred to as the "emotional one."
I love your family stories, Connie. They transport me to earlier times in my own life. Thank you for sharing your special memories with heart and humor.
They transport me too, Nancy, as they surely do for most or all of us in Club Connie. We ride nostalgically on a gifted writer's ability to frame her experiences with resonant, universal insights.
Your mom’s wise words,”Gratitude has no expiration date” are the ones I will pass on to my family and friends. In fact, I’m going to add her passage to the plastic Easter eggs. Happy Easter
I love every memory you shared. This, however, is the line I will now borrow forever: children don’t just push their parents’ buttons, they install them.
My husband and his mother were two sides of the same coin and they could fight like gladiators. I asked her once why she pushed his buttons the way she did. Her reply: “because I know where they are. I put them there.” I was speechless.
Need to remember that to tell my son who is a dad of a 2 1/2 and 1 year old! Thanks
We love our children!!!🥴
I don't know how you make me cry so often! Beautiful!
Connie's gift is distilling memories and life lessons to their universal essence, then presenting them with wisdom and grace.
Thank you, Alan.
Thank you for putting that into words
That is a trait … no let’s call that a blessing … that my favorite writers posses.
The first time I worked the tiny fingers of our eldest daughter into the crocheted gloves that had been mine as a little girl in Paris on an Easter Sunday, my Kansan husband laughedu till he cried. My daughter cried too. Those gloves and mine (which had been my mother’s) still exist, layered in tissue in my dresser.
Sometimes I don’t know until I see the words….”may the day land gently”.
Connie Schultz...if you aren't already working on it, it might be time for a memoir. You tell wonderful snippets from your life, but sometimes it's hard to connect the pieces and some parts are missing :)
Such a sweet story told by the heart. So many memories that words must be used to remember, not just pictures. You've lived many lives, Connie, and now are touching so many who will remember their story because of yours. Have a lovely day!
I absolutely loved this memory - we also wore white gloves and a hat for the same reason. I had a shiny black vinyl purse used year round with shiny black patent shoes to go with it, we only had a dime for the collection plate though, but the rest of this story rings actually very much like ours. In my mom’s case, her dad died when she was 9 and her mom when she was 20 - so she was the repository for all the stories about how hard their life had been and hers was when she was small, and how we should absolutely remember that we have it good! I was also the oldest which meant my whole life I was responsible for my brother. Which is something I shouldered and when my brother was a terminal cancer patient at age 50, I left my job to take care of him then. Family is both everything, a blessing and sometimes also painfully difficult. I hope if you are celebrating, you have a wonderful Easter.
So many memories that are like my own. I’m the oldest sister who had to set a good example, & same age as Caroline Kennedy. Our pictures were JFK and the pope. Thanks for the walk down a very similar memory lane.
Yes! I too was born in ,not only the wake of Caroline Kennedy’s birth, but also just after the birth of Princess Grace of Monaco’s daughter Caroline in 1957. Our mom talked about “Jackie” and “Grace” as if they had all delivered babies in the same hospital. Until I knew better, I thought that somehow my mom WAS connected to Jackie and Grace, mostly because I had no idea who they were. I assumed they were neighbors who had moved away. Funny how these memories serve somehow to making me feel rooted in a community, which, I have to say, Connie Schultz’s writing also does.
Families are complicated. The photo and the story behind it aren't obvious.
I have one if those electronic frames with family photos that scroll through and change every 30 seconds. Sometimes its just too much for me to bear.
Thank you Connie, I so enjoyed your story. I sit at 3.30am on a hotel balcony in rural South Australia, having gone to sleep so early I am now awake. We drove all Easter Sunday, also our 33 wedding anniversary (married on an Easter Sunday) from regional NSW. No one was coming home this year, so we are off on a bit of an adventure to stay with olive growing and judging friends of my husband's, in a wine district. We drove for over seven hours. We enjoyed leftover lamb roast on brioch buns for lunch enroute. Only three to go today. Happy Easter.
I cry my eyes out, Connie, even when they’re not exactly sad. But it’s good crying.
Thank you for this! We were just sharing a similar photo, white gloves and all, from 1966 in our family chat this morning. The stories behind the photos!
Thank you for sharing this part of your life with us, Connie. A friend in grad school said, Your mother knows where your buttons are--she sewed them on.
This is such a beautiful memory. It made me both sad and yet smile, as it brought up so many shared memories of growing up at that time. By the way, I'm the middle child, the one always referred to as the "emotional one."
I love your family stories, Connie. They transport me to earlier times in my own life. Thank you for sharing your special memories with heart and humor.
They transport me too, Nancy, as they surely do for most or all of us in Club Connie. We ride nostalgically on a gifted writer's ability to frame her experiences with resonant, universal insights.
Your mom’s wise words,”Gratitude has no expiration date” are the ones I will pass on to my family and friends. In fact, I’m going to add her passage to the plastic Easter eggs. Happy Easter