Dad (2)

I don't exactly remember how old I was, maybe seven or eight. It was my mother's birthday and my dad purchased this very fancy lamp. I can describe it. The center was a pure white porcelain tree. A young woman and a young man stood leaning on the tree and looking at each other longingly. The young woman had an apple in her hand. It was really a lovely lamp and I think it must be in the house of one of my siblings. I think that when my dad was taking it out of the box, it may have slipped and a piece broke off of it. I remember my mother crying- I am not sure whether it was out of happiness, or horror at the breakage of such a beautiful and expensive item. This lamp was indeed an unusual gift for our family. We were far from rich and I don't ever remember either of my parents spending so much money on such an item. I also seem to think that my mom had an issue about spending so much on the gift. But I guess after the breakage it certainly could not be taken back.

My dad used to take me with him when he was designing parts of Churches. I remember nailing something together. I helped him carry a big wooden statue into the church. He said that a great wood sculptor in Italy carved it. The best thing about going on these trips with him was having lunch together. He said that I could order what I wanted to. One day we were working late and we were going to have dinner together at a restaurant. He called my mom and she said that we had to come home. I remember that we were both disappointed.

I remember car rides with just him and me. He would listen to the Arthur Godfrey Show. He loved it and I loved it too. Then there were times when we were not alone. For a time we would pack up the entire family into the station wagon. We would usually drive down country roads west of Philadelphia. For a while there it was a big Edsel. My dad drove. Mom had a baby on her lap. Then there was a cherished place between mom and dad. The other cherished spot was the last row that faced out the back of the station wagon.