September 12, 2008

What a journey my life has been and looking back, I don't think I would have changed much of it. After all, the happenings along the way have molded me into the person I am today. I was born in Springfield, MA. My parents, Abe and Edna Simons, were a handsome couple. Abe, 8 1/2 years older than my mother, was over 6 feet tall, athletic, muscular, energetic and a workaholic. In partnership with his older brother, Sam, Abe ran a successful insurance agency and was able to provide well for his family. He had a booming voice and would often greet you with "Greetings and Salutations!" Interacting with people of all ages brought him enormous pleasure. He would always have a story to relate and a joke to tell. Sometimes you waited for the punchline, only to realize it was already given. Yes, the jokes were not always funny, but I laughed anyway! Edna was a striking woman. Never wearing much makeup, Edna was still beautiful and reminded me a little of Katharine Hepburn. Edna had very long hair that she would wear in a bun. Rarely did we see her hair down. She was prim and proper; I never really heard her swear! She loved to cook and do creative things. Knitting, crocheting, making hooked rugs and weaving were some of her specialties. Over the years she created wonderful meals and beautiful items! Many of her items adorn my home and my children's home. Religion was very important to my parents. Along with his older brother, Sam, my father helped found Sinai Temple, a reform synagogue. There he taught Sunday School, was president of the Brotherhood and was very active in the Temple's happenings. My mother and father would participate in many of the Temple's social events. My brother and I attended Sunday School, my brother was Bar Mitzvahed, and both of us were confirmed. There were no questions asked about attending; it was expected and we went. Every Friday night, we would pick up my Grandma Simons, my paternal grandmother, and take her to Temple. I remember how caring my father was to his mother. He would talk to her every day on the phone and usually stop by her home if only for a few minutes. She was a big woman, a wonderful cook, and had a strong personality. She lived upstairs in a two family home on Whittier Street. Her home was immaclate. I don't think she would have allowed it to have been otherwise. We would go to her home for dinner; she kept Kosher and I still remember wanting butter on my potatoes, but of course, that was not to be! Conjuring up her knises and coconut squares still make me salivate!Her husband, Joe, a tailor, died when I was about 3 so I really have no recollection of him.My other grandmother, Grandma Cohen, was tiny and a lot of fun. She loved to bake and play cards. Because of her stature, my brother and I would lovingly call her "Shrimpy". Often, I would sleep at her house. She lived in the upstairs of a two family home on West Alvord Street. When I would go there, I would play with her jewelry and often wear her diamond wedding band. When she died, I was given her wedding band which I still wear proudly.
Her husband, Sam, died when I was 3 so I have no real recollection of him. Both sets of grandparents were from the "old country" and preferred to speak in Yiddish. Since I really wanted to know what they were discussing, I listened and learned to understand bits and pieces of the language. To this day, I am filled with a sweet nostalgia when I hear such phrases as shana maidel, es mein kind, trug ashund tirait.

From kindergarten through 2nd grade, I attended Washington Street School which was right up the street from where I lived. Friendly with many children in the neighborhood, I always had a lot to do. My cousin, Stephen, who is almost exactly my age, lived right down the street from me. Together, we would play and get into trouble. I remember his lasooing me one day because we were playing cowboys. Another time, I remember sitting in the middle of the road and picking up the tar bubbles, rolling them up and chewing them as if they were gum.

When I was in 3rd grade, we moved to Longmeadow. My dad had bought property with Lester Wernick. Together, they created a street, called it Briarcliff Road, and built houses next to one another. The Wernicks and my family really bonded. A matter of fact, the Wernicks became my second family; Sylvia and Lester were my surrogate parents. A delightful couple, they would gfreet us when my brother and I would run next door. We would regale them with our daily happenings and revel in the kudos they would invariably give us. My folks, on the other hand, were scant with their praise. Interestingly, they would tell others how proud they were of us, yet they would rarely share their pride with us. So the Wernicks were the ones who truly made us feel special. Their three children, Leslie, Andy, and Jane became like our younger siblings. As often as we would go to their home, they would come to ours. They loved to watch my mother cook and would delight in her baked goods.