As you can see, I turned 70 in February. I had my mother in my life for a few precious weeks, actually 65 days. I just noticed this year that April 22, 1946, falls on a Monday. Mildred Chylik Holasek died on Easter Sunday around 11PM. But probably by the time the doctor arrived it was the next day.
It seems very fitting that I write more about my mother today. Previous writings can be found here: The first one is the love story of my parents which I know because of the letters and the conversations:
The next writing is the story of my mother’s life
And the third essay was written about her death.
Since I have written those first three stories and included all the pictures, having exhausted every family connection, there does not exist a picture of my mother holding me on the day of my Christening. In fact, looking closely at the pictures in my childhood album, there seems to be only two there from my Christening. One with my Godmother, Mrs. Gund.
And another picture with with my grandmother, Theresa Vanek Holasek. My goodness, she was only 63 years old in this picture.
The pictures of my dad and me which I always thought were taken at my Christening, must have been taken right after my mother’s funeral. The date says April 26, 1946.
I know there must be at least one picture somewhere of me and my mother. It would mean everything to me to find it. Is it any wonder why I hoard pictures and they are considered my most prized possession. I have about 80 albums all categorized now, and over 25,000 pictures since I went digital. And yet that one picture alludes me. But at least I remain determined to keep writing my blog to put down for the record my autobiography a little piece at a time, and include the important pictures.
So besides the three previous blogs, related to all the stories are two letters, one written by my mother, and the other written by both my mother and father about 4 days before her death. Having a family that kept everything, especially the letters is a wonderful thing. (Making them her last letters). My mother’s friend gave my dad her letter, and my Uncle Ed kept his letter and gave it to me.
They were writing describing my christening. My mother’s letter was to her best friend Eleanor Gibson who was with her husband in the service in Kansas. She wrote: Marilyn is growing so much. . . . she weighs 9.5 pounds now, (I was 5 pounds 15 ounces at birth) and is beginning to smile. . . she sure is cute! And I was so proud of her last Sunday, Palm Sunday. It was her baptism day. . . . Marilyn looked like a little angel in her long white satin dress. In fact, she had a complete outfit given her by a friend of Bill’s family last December. Long white sweater coat, bonnet, booties, slip, stockings. and Mrs. Gund also gave Marilyn a dainty cross lovelier. This Mrs. Gund is a widow who has charge of the linen room at Hotel Cleveland. (She lived in the Terminal Tower.) Well, she sure took a liking to our babe and was so happy to be the sponsor.
I took a picture of the last part of this letter to show my mother’s beautiful penmanship.
And then my dad wrote to his brother Edward in the navy on Lake Erie: Dear Edward, Well, the big day for Marilyn has passed into history as a great day. To begin with the weather was perfect and sunshiny and warm. . . . Now Marilyn must have inherited some of those traits after her mother, meaning poise, lady like, reserved, quiet, well-mannered and just adorable. . . (I only wish that were true) Maybe Marilyn knew she was in church. . . .Mrs. Gund was the sponsor of Marilyn and was she proud. After services so many wanted to see our little off spring and of course your truly, stuck his chest out and said I’m Pa Pa. Ha Ha. Milly was so proud of her little girl. Then mother and uncles and aunts namely, Joe, Fred, George, Jack, Lil, Terry, Josie and Bob came forward from their pews to say congratulations to us.
Every time I have read those letters in my life, I have cried. I can’t help it. So I did my share of crying today. Except for those 65 days, as long as I have been alive, my mother has been gone. But she left an incredible legacy, ME. And I have yet to write that letter to myself at 70, but that needs to wait till another day. But the rest of the story is her life did not end with me.
And so dear mother, here is your daughter and your grandchildren Holly Lloyd Saunders, and William Stacy Lloyd in February, 2016.