February 06, 2019
I went to visit Mom this past Sunday morning. During my visit, we cooked my Dad’s favorite breakfast lacking kolbasz (Hungarian sausage) for both of us, rather the three of us, (yes, KC the Wunder Mutt had her share as well). While Mom diced the Hungarian hot peppers and onions, I began cracking the eggs and ultimately beat them with some milk. It took some time for me after Dad’s passing to enjoy this meal again. I’d wake up Sunday mornings to the smells of the Hungarian hot peppers and onions sautéing and then the kolbasz frying up and seeing my father at the stove and greeting me with, “jó reggelt!” as he poured the scrambled egg mixture into the frying pan.
This soon became our Sunday morning ritual for my entire childhood and continued years after I moved out on my own. Even when he was no longer able to carry on the tradition himself, I picked up the tradition for more years than I can probably recall. It all abruptly stopped once he was no longer with us as. As I stand over the stove, with my own scrambled egg mixture poured over my own diced Hungarian hot peppers and onions, I started to reminisce my childhood years and realized how great of a childhood I had. I sentimentally treasure these cherished memories more than not having the latest, greatest and the most new games and toys.
Every so often, I think of something so hard that drifts me into the time period it happened in and then I awake, only to realize it was just a great memory.
With no specific order in timelines…do any of you get these flashbacks?
Elliott Elementary,
Recess on the big playground,
Awards assemblies and special events in the gymnasium,
Ms Waytolonis,
the lady who managed to herd kindergarteners like sheep,
Mrs Clancy,
probably the one who I credit most for my love of reading,
Mrs Bowling,
the grandmother I never had growing up and countless words of advice, gratitude and love for all that she taught me,
Ms Anderson,
introduced me to my love of civics, through student council,
Mrs Ingersoll/Mr Valent,
Mrs Ingersoll and her banjo days and the Hobbit, with not much remembered about Mr Valent other than some subjects we changed rooms for and that he was a tall man,
Mr Doig the first teacher who I truly disliked but Mr Thompson for his kindness and patience to tutor me in math,
Mrs Trains,
for her patience to teach string instruments and constant repetition, practice and practice, EGBDF in strings and her love of music,
Ms Stopchinski,
the cafeteria lady who served our meals with a smile and was quick to share a chat,
Ms Chartrand,
teaching us to sing (even if I couldn’t carry a tune) and parent holiday pageants,
Alan,
the maintenance man, who knew all the skeletons of Elliott and let us partake in raising and lowering the flag every day,
Dr Ward,
our principal, knowing each of our names and always found something good in all of us,
Kellie Sweet,
my closest childhood friend,
Sensei Mendelssohn and the karate tournament,
Pepsi Challenge,
the merry-go-round,
reading group buddies,
Stephani Jenders,
Park Hill Apartments,
my friend across the hall from our apartment,
Laverne and Shirley and “let’s do it our way”,
Being DJs, recording cassettes from the radio, “I Love Rock and Roll” and “Let’s Get Physical” as our number one hits,
Troy Broniman,
my best friend,
Matchbox cars over Hot Wheels but Majorette was tops,
Mega Lego structures to incorporate our love of cars, Star Wars or airplanes,
Star Wars action figures,
Six Million-Dollar Man,
Building mega-forts with blankets, pillows and whatever else we could find,
I wonder what ever happened to Lucy Barnhart, Robbie Underwood, Gayle Borden and Kevin Walding…
…also the popular ones, Sam Creekmore, Brian Czerwinski, Chris Toupin and Sara Teniswood and then there was Sherry Canfield who all the boys had a crush on.
Though he’s on Facebook as a friend, I have never seen any activity, Keith Linton who I shared countless Mr Juicy’s, Ding Dongs and Twinkies with at lunch and were best playground pals.
Grade 6 trips;
to Bob-Lo Island,
to Greenfield Village,
to Chuck E Cheese,
to Roller Skating,
to Ice Skating,
After school activities including art club and movies with popcorn in the gymnasium,
Snow days filled with sledding and snow forts, (how I hated being cold, but being cold and wet was miserable!),
The Sunday trips with my Dad to Big Boy and Burger Chef after spending an afternoon at Detroit Metro, watching the birds fly in and imagine where they took off too and finishing the weekend with a trip to the Hobby Shop on Ford Road. Listening to the stories Dad shared of his repairing planes in Hungary during the war, his desire for something more and immigrating to Canada and ultimately the United States, the mischievous troublemaker he was as a child and the countless other tales. Cobo Hall for Annual Auto Show and another trip for the Annual Boat Show were on the annual seasonal excursions. Mom taking me to get my weekly allergy shot and getting the lollipop from the kind older nurse who would inject me. Day trips with Mom to Westland Mall and the Livonia Mall on those cold winters. The occasional hike out to Canton to get deals at Meijer’s Thrifty Acres, long before Wal-Mart entered the scene…or the many fabric shops we went to get the perfect cut of fabric for the clothes my Mom would make. The smells from Mom’s kitchen would always bring a smile to my face.
Winters at our cottage,
Long hikes in from Lantern Marina to our cottage,
Trips to the outhouse in dreadful cold winters,
The snowmobile rides, fearing the ice would crack in the middle of the river,
The tobogganing,
Building snow forts and tunnels,
Did I mention how much I hate being cold and wet?
Summers at our cottage,
Swimming,
Boating,
Fishing,
Torpitt Lodge to get laundry done and fill our water kegs,
Ice Creams at Stanton House or Lantern Marina,
Seeing my summer friends I knew since I was born after a long winter,
Trips into Gravenhurst to do our weekly grocery shopping,
Visiting my parents’ friends, some who liked children more than others,
The trips to Canada’s Wonderland and the Canadian National Exhibition,
The day trip to Toronto to visit family and friends who didn’t have a cottage,
Saying good-bye too my life in Michigan as we moved to Florida,
My Mom’s little blue Plymouth Horizon TC3 packed to the roof as we pulled out of the driveway I saw Dad’s figure became smaller as we pulled further away to only reunite a couple months later.
The list can, and goes on, however my memory fades as I return to the present...
With such fond memories of my school-age years, even this many years later, I vividly recall such experiences. I wonder how my life may have differed had I spent my teens still in Wayne-Westland. I’ve been dealt a great life for the most part, with continued blessings and good things happening to me! If we never moved to South Florida, I would have not gained much of the great experiences transforming my teenage years into adulthood and would have never met all the amazing people who crossed paths with me and came along my journey.
I rub my eyes, my past becomes cloudy and the present becomes into focus. I listen to my Mom taking us down memory lane, sentimentally filled with flashbacks of both memories and nostalgic times. While I finish cooking our breakfast, I smile as I reminisce; then look toward the future and the journey awaiting me. All in the while, we both hear KC prancing on the tile floor and grumbling under her breathe for her share of our breakfast in the background of the present day.
This soon became our Sunday morning ritual for my entire childhood and continued years after I moved out on my own. Even when he was no longer able to carry on the tradition himself, I picked up the tradition for more years than I can probably recall. It all abruptly stopped once he was no longer with us as. As I stand over the stove, with my own scrambled egg mixture poured over my own diced Hungarian hot peppers and onions, I started to reminisce my childhood years and realized how great of a childhood I had. I sentimentally treasure these cherished memories more than not having the latest, greatest and the most new games and toys.
Every so often, I think of something so hard that drifts me into the time period it happened in and then I awake, only to realize it was just a great memory.
With no specific order in timelines…do any of you get these flashbacks?
Elliott Elementary,
Recess on the big playground,
Awards assemblies and special events in the gymnasium,
Ms Waytolonis,
the lady who managed to herd kindergarteners like sheep,
Mrs Clancy,
probably the one who I credit most for my love of reading,
Mrs Bowling,
the grandmother I never had growing up and countless words of advice, gratitude and love for all that she taught me,
Ms Anderson,
introduced me to my love of civics, through student council,
Mrs Ingersoll/Mr Valent,
Mrs Ingersoll and her banjo days and the Hobbit, with not much remembered about Mr Valent other than some subjects we changed rooms for and that he was a tall man,
Mr Doig the first teacher who I truly disliked but Mr Thompson for his kindness and patience to tutor me in math,
Mrs Trains,
for her patience to teach string instruments and constant repetition, practice and practice, EGBDF in strings and her love of music,
Ms Stopchinski,
the cafeteria lady who served our meals with a smile and was quick to share a chat,
Ms Chartrand,
teaching us to sing (even if I couldn’t carry a tune) and parent holiday pageants,
Alan,
the maintenance man, who knew all the skeletons of Elliott and let us partake in raising and lowering the flag every day,
Dr Ward,
our principal, knowing each of our names and always found something good in all of us,
Kellie Sweet,
my closest childhood friend,
Sensei Mendelssohn and the karate tournament,
Pepsi Challenge,
the merry-go-round,
reading group buddies,
Stephani Jenders,
Park Hill Apartments,
my friend across the hall from our apartment,
Laverne and Shirley and “let’s do it our way”,
Being DJs, recording cassettes from the radio, “I Love Rock and Roll” and “Let’s Get Physical” as our number one hits,
Troy Broniman,
my best friend,
Matchbox cars over Hot Wheels but Majorette was tops,
Mega Lego structures to incorporate our love of cars, Star Wars or airplanes,
Star Wars action figures,
Six Million-Dollar Man,
Building mega-forts with blankets, pillows and whatever else we could find,
I wonder what ever happened to Lucy Barnhart, Robbie Underwood, Gayle Borden and Kevin Walding…
…also the popular ones, Sam Creekmore, Brian Czerwinski, Chris Toupin and Sara Teniswood and then there was Sherry Canfield who all the boys had a crush on.
Though he’s on Facebook as a friend, I have never seen any activity, Keith Linton who I shared countless Mr Juicy’s, Ding Dongs and Twinkies with at lunch and were best playground pals.
Grade 6 trips;
to Bob-Lo Island,
to Greenfield Village,
to Chuck E Cheese,
to Roller Skating,
to Ice Skating,
After school activities including art club and movies with popcorn in the gymnasium,
Snow days filled with sledding and snow forts, (how I hated being cold, but being cold and wet was miserable!),
The Sunday trips with my Dad to Big Boy and Burger Chef after spending an afternoon at Detroit Metro, watching the birds fly in and imagine where they took off too and finishing the weekend with a trip to the Hobby Shop on Ford Road. Listening to the stories Dad shared of his repairing planes in Hungary during the war, his desire for something more and immigrating to Canada and ultimately the United States, the mischievous troublemaker he was as a child and the countless other tales. Cobo Hall for Annual Auto Show and another trip for the Annual Boat Show were on the annual seasonal excursions. Mom taking me to get my weekly allergy shot and getting the lollipop from the kind older nurse who would inject me. Day trips with Mom to Westland Mall and the Livonia Mall on those cold winters. The occasional hike out to Canton to get deals at Meijer’s Thrifty Acres, long before Wal-Mart entered the scene…or the many fabric shops we went to get the perfect cut of fabric for the clothes my Mom would make. The smells from Mom’s kitchen would always bring a smile to my face.
Winters at our cottage,
Long hikes in from Lantern Marina to our cottage,
Trips to the outhouse in dreadful cold winters,
The snowmobile rides, fearing the ice would crack in the middle of the river,
The tobogganing,
Building snow forts and tunnels,
Did I mention how much I hate being cold and wet?
Summers at our cottage,
Swimming,
Boating,
Fishing,
Torpitt Lodge to get laundry done and fill our water kegs,
Ice Creams at Stanton House or Lantern Marina,
Seeing my summer friends I knew since I was born after a long winter,
Trips into Gravenhurst to do our weekly grocery shopping,
Visiting my parents’ friends, some who liked children more than others,
The trips to Canada’s Wonderland and the Canadian National Exhibition,
The day trip to Toronto to visit family and friends who didn’t have a cottage,
Saying good-bye too my life in Michigan as we moved to Florida,
My Mom’s little blue Plymouth Horizon TC3 packed to the roof as we pulled out of the driveway I saw Dad’s figure became smaller as we pulled further away to only reunite a couple months later.
The list can, and goes on, however my memory fades as I return to the present...
With such fond memories of my school-age years, even this many years later, I vividly recall such experiences. I wonder how my life may have differed had I spent my teens still in Wayne-Westland. I’ve been dealt a great life for the most part, with continued blessings and good things happening to me! If we never moved to South Florida, I would have not gained much of the great experiences transforming my teenage years into adulthood and would have never met all the amazing people who crossed paths with me and came along my journey.
I rub my eyes, my past becomes cloudy and the present becomes into focus. I listen to my Mom taking us down memory lane, sentimentally filled with flashbacks of both memories and nostalgic times. While I finish cooking our breakfast, I smile as I reminisce; then look toward the future and the journey awaiting me. All in the while, we both hear KC prancing on the tile floor and grumbling under her breathe for her share of our breakfast in the background of the present day.
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