Allegany, New York is fine, very fine, in the fall. There is a plot with this view in Saint Bonaventure Cemetery, that is mine. I plan to put a marker on it that says Carls. It might match the stone chosen by my mom and dad for their marker. They moved forward with their marker when my sister died at age 14. She lies there with them now and there is no room for the rest of us. We are legion.
The hills are beautiful, the air is fresh and sweet, and life is good. I'm sitting in the back living room in the house my father built. I was thinking how he must have felt night after night alone. My mom died in a nursing home and dad stayed by himself in the 5 bedroom house that he had built for us. We were mostly all scattered to the 4 corners of the US.
My sister and her husband bought the house and renovated it; modernizing and improving it greatly. Now it is their family escape from the Texas heat and is a wonderful place to bring their children and grandkids for a change of scene. They have generously welcomed me to stay here when I visit.
It feels strange as it always does feel strange, coming home after having left Allegany at age 18.
Driving around the area, chatting with my sister, memories come flooding back. Mostly all the good times and the funny times...we try to leave the bad times sleep and stay quiet in the dark corners but sometimes...well there were 8 of us kids and we all had a different experience growing up. It is amazing how different a few years make in the family dynamics.
