This journal entry is from early in my freshman year in college. I describe a family trip to my grandmother’s condo. This is the O’Malley side of the family. I find this entry very poignant. I sound anxious about what will happen to me when I am old. Will I be all right? Will I have happy memories? I still remember the pictures laid out on that table and I still remember my reaction to them. I love my family. I am very fortunate.<\/p>\n
October 13<\/big>
\nYesterday before we went into Boston we spent a few hours at Mummy Gina’s condo. She’s really hurt her back and has to walk with a cane, but she’s as bubbly as ever. Tom was there with his girlfriend Jo and her son Christopher, who is an unbelievable sweetheart. He must be about 6 or 7.<\/p>\n
When I’m in the bosom of my family, I just sit there watching, hoping I can become an adult as well-adjusted as all of them. They’re so nice to one another. I watched Tom help Christopher put a toy together, his head bent over it, Christopher leaning close to him —<\/p>\n
I keep anticipating men to be egotistical and shitty. Even men in my own family. And there’s Tom, who looks like a tough guy (all the brothers call him “Gonzales”), he’s very handsome. And the way he is with Chris … the way he is with all of us … It’s wonderful.<\/p>\n
The way my dad and all his brothers treat each other: I mean, they tease mercilessly, but they respect each other. They like each other as people. Also the family is so elastic, letting new people in with ease, like Jo and Chris.<\/p>\n
On Mummy Gina’s table there were stacks and stacks of old photos. Not of us, but of Dad when he was little. And even older photos than that. That’s basically how I spent those three hours, studying each and every picture. Oh GOD. I wanted to take them all to make a scrapbook. I was enthralled, close to tears. History has never felt so close to me.<\/p>\n
Last night for the first time I felt that — even if I didn’t become overwhelmingly famous and respected — it might be all right. Because by the time I die, hopefully I’ll have a lot of happy funny memories to look back on, and get satisfaction from that.<\/p>\n
Browsing through the pictures:<\/p>\n
Mummy Gina’s senior picture, Dad in a sunsuit, Dad with a crewcut, about 5 years old, Terry as a baby, Tony — all of them on Christmas day. Jimmy: a tough little guy with slicked hair. Terry and Joe as teenagers playing baseball in the backyard. Regina going off to all her proms.<\/p>\n
I couldn’t drag my eyes away.<\/p>\n
My favorites were Dad in the sunsuit.<\/p>\n
Then there were really old pictures. Brown and blurred.<\/p>\n
The only memories I have of Pop are of a stationary quiet old man, who sat under a blanket in the sunroom, painting color-by-numbers. He had emphysema, I think. But there were all of these pictures of him as a teenager, a young man. He was GORGEOUS.<\/p>\n
He was born in 1901, so he grew up in the teens and ’20s. Diary, he was breath-taking. And he was crazy, too. So many of them made me laugh.<\/p>\n
There was a group of photos from a trip Pop took once, and Mummy Gina referred to it as: “the infamous trip to Canada.” It was in 1917 or 1918, and he went to Canada with his best friends. There were about three pictures of all of them, 5 or 6 handsome college guys, in their bathing suits — really old-fashioned cloth kinds — posing on a stone wall by a river, in these mock balletic statuesque positions, legs stuck out in arabesques, heads thrown back, arms out to steady themselves. And there’s Pop among them. Just 5 nutty guys. Like today.<\/p>\n
I guess they met 5 girls on this “infamous trip to Canada”, on a road somewhere — Everyone was referring to them as “the dancing girls.” “Have you come across the pictures of the dancing girls yet?” I can just see it: 5 guys having a great time, running into 5 just as nutty girls.<\/p>\n
There’s one picture of all of them with their arms around each other, doing a Chorus Line kick, guys with knickers on, and boots, the girls were all flappers, wearing small hats and T-strap shoes. And everyone was laughing uproariously. They’re on a ROAD somewhere in Canada.<\/p>\n
There was a shot of just the girls, holding hands, and being crazy. It’s a blurred picture, because they’re all dancing, in motion, but you can see their giggling faces fine. Every time I think about the whole situation, it makes me laugh a little harder.<\/p>\n
And Pop was there —<\/p>\n
He wasn’t born an old man. He was an extremely exquisite-looking college guy who loved to be rowdy and crazy in Canada with his four best friends.<\/p>\n
I can’t tell you how many times I kept pulling them out again and again to stare at them — each face — I could feel my own face gliding into a grin each time I looked. The pictures were so EXCITING to me.<\/p>\n
There were many more exciting pictures: Mummy Gina’s mother — it must have been taken at the turn of the century or before. She was so beautiful. Her beauty shone out of that dull black and white. There’s a man beside her with a shiny top hat.<\/p>\n
Suddenly everything is real to me.<\/p>\n
Mummy Gina was a pretty 17 year old who wore overalls and babysat.<\/p>\n
Pop was a handsome nut who cavorted with unknown Canadian flappers and clowned around in his bathing suit.<\/p>\n
Dad wore sunsuits, and was a baby who had no teeth<\/p>\n
Regina was an extremely fat little baby<\/p>\n
Mummy Gina had a MOTHER who was very beautiful.<\/p>\n
Life … life …<\/p>\n
Everyone has a history. What will be my history, when I’m old? What pictures will be lying around of MY life?<\/p>\n
It doesn’t matter if your history is world-known or what — Your life is important because you’re you. I must remember that. I have to be happy. Even if I don’t become an actress. It shouldn’t matter that much.<\/p>\n
I loved looking at those pictures. No one will ever know how much they all meant to me.<\/p>\n
I never really knew Pop. But now I feel like I do.<\/p>\n
It’s so so beautiful!!!!<\/p>\n
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This journal entry is from early in my freshman year in college. I describe a family trip to my grandmother’s condo. This is the O’Malley side of the family. I find this entry very poignant. I sound anxious about what … Continue reading