IT DOESN'T SEEM POSSIBLE

Walking in the neighborhood with my husband Arnee sparked a sudden memory of my father-in-law. That brought the conversation to “how is it possible?” I asked Arnee, “how could I know Moss [our youngest child who is 28] the same number of years that I knew your father? And I met your father when I was 16 and he lived to be 87.”

Continuing my revelation of surprisingly knowing Arnee’s parents for a shorter time than seemed possible, I reminisced about how well I knew them. Arnee and I rented the downstairs apartment of their two-family house on Pennington Street (346) in Elizabeth for the first six years of our marriage. With them living upstairs, we spent much time together.

“Your father would drive me to catch the train for work, and evenings your mother and I would sit upstairs and watch television together. She would be knitting, while I looked through their photo albums and discussed the various family members in the photos,” I recalled nostalgically. Shedding a tear, I said, “just as you, although I loved them and miss them so much, we still go on.”

With today's iPhone technology, it would have been considerably easier to have pictures of me with my father-in-law. But the one I always adored is from our wedding. I was kissing the ringbearer, our nephew David held by my father-in-law, his beloved grandfather. Little David was three at the time.

Three is my favorite age, the current age of our granddaughter Solly. Continuing to converse on our walk, Arnee and I couldn’t help but ponder how long our precious Solly would know us. At least there is a written and oral history about us, down to my favorite colors, as recorded in our chronicles.

Our writings and interviews are many and include my blog posts, newspaper and magazine articles, and radio interviews. My husband’s archived radio shows and written contributions to books, magazines, and legal literature paint a clear picture of our part in society and our family history.

Most importantly, they should know how much we love them. And so the mystery of life goes on.

Now, Solly is the age her dad’s cousin David was at our wedding, and David turned 51 in October. It all happens in the blink of an eye...it doesn’t seem possible.

Solly at three baking with Grandma