I remember Dolores on Mother’s Day

She was a child bride, in all definitions of the word. Dolores was 18 when she wed 19-year-old Frank. I’m not sure if the magnificent photo of them above was at her high school prom or my Aunt Marion — my mom’s sister — and Uncle Chet’s wedding. Both would have been a year or…

The Polish in me

I look at my father’s face in this photo and I’m struck with two lightning bolts of memory. Frank is happy. Frank is happy because he’s once again brought his family to the tiny Polish resort in the Catskill Mountains of upstate New York. I’m fairly certain I’m the one taking the photo. I think…