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Whew, between the Baltimore Lithuanian Festival on Saturday and the Maryland Faerie Festival today, I have been on the go a lot this weekend!! Now that I'm sitting down at the computer, I want to go curl up and sleep ... when I still need to do some of my freelance writing.
But first: This Mother's Day I thought I would honor my paternal grandmother, the one I never got to meet. I posted this photo of her on Facebook.
Here is the sum total of what I know of her:
She was born somewhere in what is now Lithuania. She came to the United States sometime before 1917, perhaps in 1911.
Her first name was Nellie. Her maiden surname began with a B. (I have seen at least three radically different spellings of it.)
She had two sons, and the older one (my Dad) looked more like her than the younger one.
In 1931, she took an "advanced beginner" class in English.
In January 1934, she died of pneumonia. She was either 42 years old (according to city death records) or 45 to 46 (according to the cemetery gravestone).
That's it. That is all I know. I have no idea whether she was a good cook, whether she liked to sew or knit, whether she sang songs to her sons or read them stories or whether she could read at all. I never asked my Dad what kind of a mother she was. But I am her granddaughter just the same.
But first: This Mother's Day I thought I would honor my paternal grandmother, the one I never got to meet. I posted this photo of her on Facebook.
Here is the sum total of what I know of her:
She was born somewhere in what is now Lithuania. She came to the United States sometime before 1917, perhaps in 1911.
Her first name was Nellie. Her maiden surname began with a B. (I have seen at least three radically different spellings of it.)
She had two sons, and the older one (my Dad) looked more like her than the younger one.
In 1931, she took an "advanced beginner" class in English.
In January 1934, she died of pneumonia. She was either 42 years old (according to city death records) or 45 to 46 (according to the cemetery gravestone).
That's it. That is all I know. I have no idea whether she was a good cook, whether she liked to sew or knit, whether she sang songs to her sons or read them stories or whether she could read at all. I never asked my Dad what kind of a mother she was. But I am her granddaughter just the same.
