Faith

I have no idea what it was, but for some reason older kids liked to pound me when I was a little boy. My mother told me that it was because I was big for my age and that it must have made some of the undersized older kids feel better. Who knows? Whatever the reason, I seemed to get pushed down or punched in the stomach an awful lot.

Fortunately for me, the toughest kid on my street lived in my own house. Of course, I had to keep on her good side or she would beat me up, too. Looking back, though, I don't recall that happening too often. Tam bailed me out a lot with those little gangsters and I always knew that if I found myself in a jam that she would be there.

Over the years, she helped me deal with those bullies, started my basketball and bowling "careers", was there at all my graduations, let me live with her while I attended graduate school, and was a big part of my wedding. I also appreciated the great sense of humor that she had and how she could make me laugh when I felt down. She had faith in me at times when I didn't have faith in myself.

Man, we used to watch this Cooley High film and I remember this song by the Four Tops that seems to fit.

Desire

I was always proud of the way my sister took pride in her various jobs and really worked hard at them. Her first job was at Burger King and she worked with my mother. Years before, my Mom had returned to work at Carrol's Restaurant and after leaving for a bit, she resurfaced when those restaurants became Burger Kings. I can still remember those wonderful Carrol's Club Burgers. In my mind, they were far superior to the Big Mac. Of course, nowadays I have to stay away from those kinds of foods (high cholesterol).

While my mother was winning recognition as being one of the fastest BK drink makers in the region (she actually won some competition and I still have trouble imagining that), my sister was hard at work making sandwiches in the back or taking orders up front. At one point, she even got an interview for her little brother, but he was a fool and was not interested. Sorry, Tam. My sister always worked hard and worked fast. Unfortunately, you don't see much of that in the workplace anymore.

Years ago, I received a weight bench for Christmas and my Dad stayed up late to put it together. I was never much of a weight lifter, but I was proud to use it and believed that I had become Charles Atlas after just a couple of lifts. Later, I was devastated when Tammie loaded the bar up with all of my weight and benched it. She was tough!

Throughout her life, Tammie worked at a variety of jobs in retail, restaurants, and in education. One of her finest moments was probably when she worked on the War of the Worlds movie set as a tutor, but there is no doubt that her most successful and favorite "job" was raising two great young men with Michael. At every step along the way, my sister had pride in her work and a desire to do more. She was a very determined person with a tremendous amount of energy and I miss her strength. Right to the end, she never gave up.

Finally, I want to submit to you an over the top comparison to Winston Churchill's "Never, Never, Give Up" speech. If Tam could see and hear this stuff, she would no doubt be laughing her head off and that would make me laugh, too. In any event, I listened Tam and I have a plan.

Time

(I was going to clean this photo up, but my Dad carried it in his wallet for many years and I wanted to show that)

In September, when I found out that Tammie was sick, time kind of stopped for me and I started to think back through the years. So many memories starting flooding into my mind, as well as a lot of emotion. After the initial shock, I felt a real sense of urgency and hoped and prayed that I would be able to speak with her again. My parents helped me gather up all of the photos that we could find of Tam and we started to talk about all of the good times that she had provided us.

The first trip to Albany to visit her in hospice was excrutiating. Having earned my MLS from the University at Albany, I had made the trip east on the thruway many times. Those times, however, I had made the trip alone. Now, although I had a car full of people, I felt alone again. When we finally made it to Tammie's room, we were not prepared for the shock of seeing her so hopeless. Oh, we had heard from Mike, but somehow your heart doesn't want to believe. Fortunately for us, Tammie was able to understand that we were there and we were able to tell her that we loved her.

Time started again and went very quickly after that initial diagnosis and soon my beautiful, energetic sister was gone. We are still having trouble understanding and we hope that we never forget those wonderful memories of her. The days go by now, but time seems meaningless.

Free

My sister loved to do things her way. Throughout her life, she had certain goals and she did what she could to attain them. Tam loved to have fun and my parents were always trying to find creative ways to contain her. She wasn't beyond climbing out a window or two to make her dreams come true and she wasn't a big fan of "unnecessary" rules or conventional behavior. In later life, she put her mind to becoming a teacher and went back to school in her forties. Despite many challenges, she became a fine one.

When Tammie and I were young, we had this family that lived across the street and that family had four children. For the first few years that we lived there, we seemed to do a lot of things together with them. I would play with the two boys in their sandbox and we would create these wonderful roads with powerful Tonka trucks, while imaginary construction workers with names like Jim and Joe barked out orders. Back then, we used to play "guns" or "cowboys and indians" and the father of these characters built a huge fort with a catwalk and holes for our long toy rifles. Also, Tammie and their two girls would put on plays for our parents and all of us would play endless games of kickball and running bases.

Then one day something happened. The neighbor mom outlawed the use of toy guns. She couldn't understand the attraction of them and it apparently bothered her husband a great deal. Of course, Tammie would always point out that the guy built a two-story fort!!!! That neighbor mom then stopped talking to our neighbor that was divorced and she would absolutely not allow the daughter of the divorced woman to enter her yard. She then started charging fines for children who wore shoes into her house, or who forgot to put a kickstand up on their bike, or who spit. Her son was constantly spitting and it was quite disgusting, so we didn't mind that rule. I don't think that anyone else ever spit, though, so it didn't cost the rest of us anything.

Eventually, the neighbor mom found other "problems" with how we were being raised and she stopped talking to my Mom and Dad. Other families did the same and soon Tammie and I were left without any friends on the street. In the end, the neighbor mom dumped the other families, too and by the time she moved, she wasn't talking to anyone. This neighbor mom was well respected in her town and her husband was a successful bank official. In my mind, however, they were small-minded people and were responsible for much unnecessary pain. I have no idea what happened to them, but life goes on.

Some convention is necessary for a society to function, but I could do without some of the judging that goes on. Tammie really was a person that was open to new ideas and was very respectful of people that were different from her. I believe that my parents instilled that in us and I am very grateful for that.

This morning, I turned on the television and this tv preacher was speaking about the value of the individual person. He emphasized that no matter how many times others might try to tear you down, your inherent value cannot be diminished. According to him, the only way that it can possibly happen is for the individual to diminish him or herself. I don't think that Tam allowed people to do that to her and that helped her to be free of many of the negative personal thoughts that I and others constantly struggle with. I am going to keep trying to overcome them, though. This year, I am going to keep trying.

Ski Hill

Ski hill in my parents neighborhood

My mother always encouraged us to try different activities and having a ski association in our backyard gave Tammie and I the chance to learn how to ski. My first skis were bright orange and my boots were red. The boots were a lot of fun and I loved to walk around the house with them on and pretend that I was Herman Munster. When I look back, those first few moments with the red boots were probably the highlight of my downhill skiing career.

My first day on the "slopes" began at my elementary school and I had to cross this massive playground to find the small hill where my lessons were conducted. Tammie was a bit more advanced and I believe that she was already on the big hill from day one. If my memory serves me, there was just one other kid in my class, but he may have been Franz Klammer. From the start of my journey across the playground, I was about fifty yards behind the kid. By the time that I got to the small practice hill, my confidence was completely shattered and I don't recall ever getting it back. Who makes a kid on his first day of lessons go 200 yds on tiny orange skis? I have tried to block it out, but I think I must have fallen a dozen times on the way there. I would have been better off walking there in the massive Munster boots.

In the ensuing weeks, Tammie would be learning the snowplow, how to skate with skis and something called the stern-christy. If she were here, she would probably laugh and let us all know how much she hated skiing and the endless cold weather. All I know is that she was flying up the towrope lift and then skiing down, while I was being transferred from group to group, because I just couldn't get it. I remember there was this one time when I was instructed to ski down in a tuck position and I veered off to the right and knocked over the majority of another class. Heck, I even took out the instructor.

Last night, I was driving my mother home after visiting my dad in the hospital and I noticed that people were skiing on the ski hill again. Naturally, I thought of the fun times Tammie and I had flying down that hill and then drinking hot chocolate in the lodge afterwards. Even though I just cross-country ski these days, I can imagine myself climbing that hill one more time and racing down into some innocent bystanders.

Winter Wonderland

Days Gone By

My mother used to let Tammie and I stay up for New Year's when we were kids. Come to think of it, we had our own little celebration at 10:00 and then we were off to bed. I don't think that I really understood what all the hullabaloo was all about, but I enjoyed the food, the hats, Guy Lombardo and the Royal Canadians, and the wacky little noisemakers that my mother provided us. Somewhere, there is film of one of these parties, but I haven't been able to find it.

Usually, I get sad on New Year's and think of past years and people that are no longer a part of my life. When I was a teenager, our neighbor used to come to our house to celebrate the new year. The first time was in 1979 and her husband had just passed away. Mrs. Miller was originally from Brooklyn and would regale us with stories of her adventures with Milt through the years. One memorable story was when her husband was held from his ankles outside a window on the twelfth floor of the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in NYC. This scenario was funny enough, but he was also dressed as a woman. Mrs. Miller always jazzed up our celebrations. Of course, the rest of my family would have most likely fallen asleep when these stories began, but I had more stamina then and would sit wide-eyed as I waited for the inevitable punchlines. Edna was quite a character and I always think of her as the ball drops in Times Square.

I also think of my great-grandparents, Isaac and Meg Glendinning. My great-grandfather passed away years before I was born, but the two were married on New Year's Eve in 1909 and it obviously, was always a special day for them. In addition, Hogmanay was a huge event in Scotland and my great-grandparents being Scottish made sure that New Year's Eve remained very important to our family. One of their traditions was something called "first footing" or the importance of having someone with dark hair be the first to enter the house after midnight. Doing some research, it looks like originally it should have been a dark male bearing gifts, but I think they allowed a woman in first, as long as she had the required dark hair and a gift. I would guess that they must have given my Aunt Brenda some trouble that night, as she is a blonde and that was just terrible luck.

This year, I was going through a lot of memories and my thoughts often turned to Tammie and how this was the first new year that I would face without her. I had so much trouble staying awake for midnight, but at some point I started looking for my nephew, Derek and began to smile. Earlier, Sean and Lindsay were at my parent's home and it felt so good to have them there this year. I ate too much, but enjoyed having Tam's boys around and sharing some memories and laughs with them. As my mother said to me as I was leaving, having them around made a difficult time more manageable and as odd at it might seem, somewhat happy. I miss my sister and thank her so much for her two boys.

Guy Lombardo from 1977