The other morning I was sitting with a group of friends, sewing, and the talk was of memory and aging (and politics, but that’s another whole ball of wax…) and this morning I was tidying the bedroom and walked by this photo, as I do daily, but was drawn in today. As I gazed at my parents, long gone from us (my Dad died 18 years ago this month) I thought what a very nice photo this is, and how fortuitous that the photographer (my brother Bruce) caught them at what was arguably one of the happiest moments of their lives together.
They were retired, they had moved far from the place where he was born and where they together had lived most of their lives…(Chicago) and here they were in Sequim, Washington, in the far west, on an adventure once again: building a new house…their dream house, building new lives and new friendships. Survivors of the Great Depression and World War II, part of the generation that returned from war and built new houses and suburbs (and began the urban sprawl engulfing us)…here they were again, building a house. A house with a view of the Straits of Juan de Fuca where they watched the giant ships through telescopes and binoculars…a house where each had a large office/workroom, where she had a pantry and a big modern kitchen. Hats off to them…to June and Howard!