White roses for Valentine's day. Feeling a lot better today I went out to take some photos. I set the vase on our brick wall and was happily snapping away when Tuxie came to see what I was doing. She spilled everything. They fell onto a wooded glider. The vase didn't break but three of the roses were broken. They are now floating in a plate.
My mother's younger half brother was born on Valentine's Day. He was named Valentine because his parents argued over what to name him. We called him Uncle Tiny, but he went by Val to his friends. His father was Italian from the old country and married my grandmother when she was a divorcee with three daughters. That didn't turn out to be a happy marriage. My grandmother died when she was 41, and Uncle Tiny joined the Merchant Marine.
He was sixteen. He was on a ship in Dutch Harbor when they were bombed. Over the years of his life he was in several auto accidents and mostly never got a scratch. My mother called him accident prone. Uncle Tiny died in a construction accident when he was 39. He was running a scraper building Interestate 5, and was run over by the back wheels when he fell off the earth mover. The radio called him Valentino when they reported the accident. My aunt was pg with her fourth boy. My husband and I adopted the baby. I always feel a little sad on Valentine's Day.
No comments:
Post a Comment