Good Wednesday morning my readers! You know what day it is? Yep… hump day AND Friday Fictioneers day! Today’s photo of a synagogue reminded me of my dad and his many stories of growing up in Montreal. Thank you, Rochelle, for keeping this challenge interesting week after week. And thank you Roger Bultot for allowing us to use your photo.
To join in the fun, click the blue frog below. Not sure how? Click on Rochelle’s name for the rules and regs. Fun and teaches you to use your words sparingly!
Stories My Father Told Me
Dad always said he was a “goyim mit a Yiddishe kopf” (sic).¹ Grew up in the same ‘hood as Mordecai Richler, and considered himself a real Duddy Kravitz. Loved to talk about “Shtunks”² — real name, Stringer — owners of the general store that he and his buddies used to torment in their youth. He sure respected the tattoo on their arms, though. Was so pleased to introduce me to Mrs. Stringer before she passed. “Such a bad boy was your father!” she scolded and laughed. We finished our tour with a Wilensky Special.
Why did I not write these stories down?
___________
¹Men with a Jewish head (goy would be singular 😉 )
²Stinkers
You can write them now. Interesting post, Dale.
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Thank you, John. I know but man… so many are already lost and I can no longer confirm with him what happened when…
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Yeah. Thats where fiction takes over.
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Exactly!
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Lovely memoir-flash! I’m a great believer in writing our stories because it’s the only way to share and keep them alive. Thank you for sharing:)
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Thank you, Luccia. Yes. When my father was ill, I gave him a journal hoping he would fill it up… but he didn’t. I should have simply recorded him for later…
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That’s a pity. You’ll have to rely on your recollections of his words and Maybe ask those who knew him or might remember…
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There are so few left…
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It’s impossible to write down all the stories of a lifetime, but by holding on to a few we can keep those memories alive. Lovely snippet Dale (and I can see the family resemblance in that photo!).
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Don’t I know it. He regaled us with the things they did to “Shtunks”… horrible boys! He was so very happy to be able to introduce me to Mrs. Stringer.
Yes, it appears that the older I get, the more I resemble him (Used to be I was my mother’s daughter. Go figure.)
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Interesting to note the similarity between yours and Rochelle’s!
Neat one!
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Though my father didn’t become a notorious gangster 😉
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😊
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Dear Dale,
It’s been ages since I’ve heard (or in this case read) the word ‘shtunk’. My mother used it a lot. It’s never too late to tell the stories you remember. Your father has captured the heart of the JAP. ❤ Lovely story. Tov M'ohd. (Very good in Hebrew).
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Dear Rochelle,
Dad used to talk about Shtunks all the time. No, I know. I just wish… He was.
Thank you, my friend!
Shalom and lotsa love (oh, and I love that commercial)
Dale
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You are writing them now, and that counts!
I’m glad you wrote this and I’ll be happy to read more of those stories, even about Shtunks … I’m a bisele meshuggina like that …
XOXO
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I am. And I am glad you enjoyed this one… Must be why we get along as I am one too 😉
xoxo
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From one meshuggina cop to another … 😉
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Indeedy!
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Appropriating other people’s culture isn’t always offensive. Sometimes it’s flattery. Interesting memoir, Dale
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It was never meant to be offensive at all. He did feel he was a part of his friends.
Thanks
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No, I know. That’s exactly my point
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OK. Wasn’t sure 😊
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Perhaps now is the time to write them down.
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It is indeed! I’ll have to ask his best friend for more details…
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Dale, I have stories my dad wrote down. They need to be reworked, but I have no idea where to send them. I’m not sure there’s much of a market for stories from his Depression-era in the southwest. In any case, yes, you should write those stories so they won’t be lost forever.
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Even if it is just to keep within the family, it is worth it, I say…
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Such a warm-hearted telling of a beautiful moment in your life. It makes me smile.
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Thank you, Jade! Glad it did
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You are welcome, Dale.
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Nice story, Dale. My grandfather told so many stories too and I wish I had written them down now since they are beginning to fade in my memory.
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Thank you, David.
I guess we all have a little of that “I wish I had…’
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If you can remember, use the knowledge you’ve retained to make a few up!
Keith’s Ramblings is but a click away!
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Right!!
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That’s a lovely memory.
I’m lucky, my father has committed his memories to paper, though only those that cover his time in the army. I remember anecdotes, more of my father’s than my mother’s; plenty of my maternal grandparents. But then my grandfather did have a problem of leaving the embroidery alone, and did love to wind me with his fabulations.
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You are so lucky.
I remember so many and I think I shall start writing them down with the help of my sisters and his best friend.
Sweet about your grandfather.
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He called his memoirs, In Peace and War. He has a sense of humour. 🙂
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He did, indeed!
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He still has. He celebrates his 99th birthday in July. And he still sing silly songs.
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Wow! How wonderful!
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He says he’s going for the big one. We all hope he’ll make it. Though in the past six months he’s had a variety of ailments. Still, heart is still sound. He’s an excellent advert for pork dripping on toast generously salted. His favourite food
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He sounds like quite the character. Some can eat what they like and others are über careful. Neither one guarantees a thing.
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I have his genes. Unfortunately, I also have my mothers. From him I get a sense of humour, a drive to write, and a love of the great outdoors. From her I got red reddish) hair, and a tendancy to pack fat on my hips.
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This was a fun read and to explore the links. Damn, do I ever want to go to Wilensky’s and get that special now.
I wish I had written stories down too.
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Glad you enjoyed, Ted. So funny… Wilensky’s charges you extra if you DON’T take mustard!
I guess I am not alone in that wish.
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This is such a lovely snippet–sort of stories within a story. I could see a bunch of these linked together.
I wish I had written down stories, too–from both my parents and my grandfathers and great aunts and uncles. . .
It sounds like you know more Yiddish than I do. My mom’s family spoke it, and she did when she was growing up, but my parents never taught it to us. My older daughter is learning Yiddish though and in a Yiddish choir.
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Thank you, Merril. You are right, there are a few bunched here.
I so wish I had with my dad and my grand-mother… dang it.
A few words here and there…
Good for your daughter!
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Writing our stories is like a journal, one must keep them alive and rich with beautiful memories.
You’ve done a beautiful job at writing this incredible post. 🙂
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Thank you. Charlie. It is. Basically what this blog will do for my boys one day.
I appreciate your kind comment.
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You are welcome, Dale.
Honoring of memories is treasuring everything good. 🙂
Bless you my friend.
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😊
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P.S I posted that short poem I was telling you about. You’ll be satisfy and finally understand the poem.
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I skimmed my inbox just before work and saw that. Will be getting to it shortly!
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🙂
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Dad looks like a mensch. Great story. I often feel the same about my dad. Miss him every day.
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He was! And I thank you, Josh. I miss mine, too. Itll be 6 years this month and I still want to pick up the phone to tell him something.
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What an open friendly smile, just like yours. You might be surprised how much you remember once you start writing. I was when I recently wrote family stories. One memory led to another. A beautiful nostalgic story! 🙂
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Thank you, Brenda. Yes, he did and I apparently inherited it.
I think you might be right as a bunch more popped into memory as I wrote this one
Glad you enjoyed
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Yep, everybody else already said it, but here it is again: it’s not too late to write the stories down 😉 I like the “flavor” of this snippet.
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Thank you, Trent. It is too late in that my father has passed away. I can only write so much of what I remember of his stories.
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My guess is that as you start writing you will remember more. Not right away, but I’m sure it will come.
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There’s a good chance.
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Lovely post, Dale. I can see where you got your smile from 🙂
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Thank you. Adele. It appears so. 😁
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You called me “Adele”.
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Oh! So sorry Maria! What the heck?
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No worries, Dale 🙂
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😊
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Oh, Dale,a Wilensky Special? Grilled bologna and salami? Oy. My mother would plotz, but my father and i would revel in it. Bringon the big metal bowl with the sour pickles.
Your father was a bad boy? Was he really a goy with a yidishe kopf?
I would suspect that if he was a bad boy, then he was really a yidishe kinder with a goyishe kopf? But who knows.
Enjoyed the story… always remember.
Randalla
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Oh Randy, a fellow Montrealer? Love it – your mother would plotz – tee hee Oh yes, bring on those half-sours = the best!!
Oy, he was a goyishe kinder – mind you, never was officially baptised or anything so he was officially a non-denominational kinder 😉 And the things they did to poor Shtunks…
So glad you enjoyed.
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You had me with the title of this post. It just touches something in me. A little over 20 years ago, my father handed me his life story. I cried that night as I read it. He wrote it because I asked my family to write down stories of their lives and of relatives who had already left us so the next generation(s) of our family would have those stories for them as well. He wrote them down for me.
Stories my father told me … that will always, always have resonance.
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Ah wow, Mark. What a wonderful story of your own. You lucky man. I asked my dad to write them down but he didn’t find the time or the energy before passing.
He wrote them down for you – so beautiful.
And it’s funny, because I was inspired by the title of the movie “Lies My Father Told Me”, which was a movie I watched with my dad…
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It’s just one of those things that touches me … the transfer of knowledge and stories and history from generation to generation. It’s such a critical piece of our humanity …
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It really is. And is why I am in the process of writing my “Mick” stories – for our boys for later…
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It’s a good thing.
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It is. 🙂
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Q,
I never heard of the movie, but the sammy . . yes indeed. Nothing like a good sammy. And nothing like a well told story from back in the day, which is what you’ve supplied. At 100 percent! As the kids say . . .
B
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B,
It’s a good ‘un. And that sammy is ridiculous – if ya clicked the link, you saw what it is made of. And yet parked outside this little rinky-dinky place, you’ll see all manners of expensive cars – peeps coming in for a special with a pickle and cherry coke and outta there, all within 15 minutes or so.
Glad you enjoyed my little tale.
Q
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It’s a really good ‘un. I clicked the link to find out, indeed. I didn’t check out the place too closely. Did they have a pickle barrel?
Loved the tale.
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Cool. Glad you checked it out. It did at one time. And I’m trying to remember when I brought Aidan if it was still there. I’ll just have to find me an excuse to go back…
Gracias.
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I remember Katz’s Deli in Chicago having a pickle barrel. Same kind of vibe to the place, kinda rinky dink but the cars outside meant business.
My favorite memory of a deli was Happy’s Deli, around the corner from our apartment in New York. Small place, and every inch of it packed with something tasty.
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I’m thinking these types of Deli’s are the best. They barely change a thing over the years and their customers are beyond faithful. Coming back to their ‘hood for a bit of a feel from back when.
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I just went to look for Happy, but alas . . no more. Yes, they were the glue of the neighborhood. It’s where you met everyone.
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Sad that Happy is (Un)Happy…
They were indeed and everyone knows someone when they go there.
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That’s the way it was.
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Sigh…
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He sounds like quite the character!
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He was. Regaled us with his stories all the time. I miss him so much.
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Keep writing these gems down. Something to pass on to the younger generation. Great detail!
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Thank you, Tannille. I will!
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A great story, Dale. I don’t remember my dad’s stories word for word either but have written down what I could remember. I’ve read it’s not necessary to write them like a memoir but to put some fiction in when needed. The fact I remember as well as I do is because he repeated them so often. I was a great audience as I thought they were always funny. He was born in 1897 and would even add a couple of old songs from the early 20th Century. It was quite a performance. My grandmother even filled in with a couple of stories. He was a great talker. The ad for the Jewish restaurant made me hungry. 🙂 — Suzanne
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What a wonderful thing. Yeah my dad repeated them often, too.
Glad you enjoyed mine.
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He looks and sounds like a real character, your Dad.I reckon once you start writing his stories down it will trigger more memories.
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He was quite!
I reckon they will.
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Good story, and links. Our language, English, is filled with so many different ethnic words that have become normal to the general population. Many have no idea of the origination. The Yiddish words in particular, are very visual to me. I enjoyed the links, and if we get up there, I have to have a Wilensky special. I love Deli’s.
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Thanks, Jan. For sure WHEN you get up here, I’ll bring you to Wilensky’s and then to Fairmont Bagel – for the best bagels, evah!
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Your pops looks like a real “Shtunk” and fellow coffee lover. 💗Bless him (and you!).
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He was! 💖
Thank you, my friend.
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I wouldn’t say you look just like your father–you got hair–but the smile and the eyes… 😉
A lovely memory and it’s never too late to start writing these stories down. I wish I had, back when my grandparents and parents were still alive.
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Haha! I’ve heard the smile comes from him…
So many of us wish we had..
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Great story, love the picture 🙂
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Thanks Gi! 😊
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Dale, thanks for sharing things you remember about your dad. You can still write his stories even if you don’t remember all the details. He sounds like a wonderful story himself.
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He was a character! And yes, I definitely can…
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Nice memories. A blast from the past.
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Thank you Abhijit
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Very colorful!
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He was! 😉
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Sweet, heartwarming story, Dale.
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Thank you so much, Deborah.
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You’re welcome, Dale 🙂
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Interesting.
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Thank you.
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Dale, I loved this story about your Dad. I recently lost mine. I wish I had spent more time talking to him about his life, his memories, his childhood.
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So sorry you did. It’s not easy. Glad you enjoyed.
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You’re right, it isn’t easy. Sometimes, I still can believe that he’s gone. Yes, I enjoyed reading your post. Seeing your Dad put a smile on my face.
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Hugs
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I could do with some. Thanks 🙂
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😊
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Very nostalgic. Loved this, Dale
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Thank you, Neel.
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I love the character and sense of place you capture here, Dale; really comes alive!
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Thank you, Dawn.
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What a lovely memory, Dale. I love listening to the old-time tales.
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Thank you, Jo. So do I. I only wish I’d recorded them when I had a chance.
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Perhaps because you were very busy being a Dalishniskie! 😀 😀
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Perhaps, my comedienne friend! 😉
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😀 x 😀
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🤣😂🤣😂
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You may not have written them down, but at least you were listening, Dale. So many don’t and then it’s too late. Well done.
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Thank you, Sandra. Much appreciated. 🙂
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Writing down is something we all should have done… written and asked, confirmed, but alas the collective memory fades.
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So very true!
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I like the title. You should write them down and of course you are allowed to make up bits to fill in the missing pieces. Nice one.
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Thank you, Subroto. I should. And I could definitely add a little something…
Glad you enjoyed.
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Such a nice piece dedicated to your dad’s memories. I tried to get my gramma to tell me stories with a tape recorder going, nope, I still wish I had them tho.. Excellent write dale.
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Thank you, Violet. I gave him a journal to write them in but I should have recorded him.
And my grandmother had so many stories to tell, too. Dang it.
Glad you enjoyed.
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I wish I had listened more closely to my father’s stories!
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I so hear you, Dawn.
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TBH, one of the reasons I blog is to preserve my stories for my kids/grand-kids. They won’t listen to me now! lol
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TBH, one of the reasons I blog is for my boys…coz guess what? Mine don’t either!
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LOL…What a gift!
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Uh huh!!
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Sad and yet a lovely set of memories. A great smile
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Thank you, Laurie. Yes, he sure did
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