Where I don't care what others think

Oink Oink

July 12th, 2006 Posted in Uncategorized

This morning I used a hack-saw to remove the snout portion of my piggy bank. It was made of plastic, something I had since I was a very young child. I opened not for the money but because it was something that I could not bring to or use in college while all inside a piggy form. It was a rather sad thing, not because I was breaking open a piggy bank, but because I was getting rid of the best memory I have of my grandparents; and even then it was a mediocre memory.

My grandparents lived in South Hadley, where they moved when my dad was a child. We visited them weekly to sit on the breezeway and just play around. I still remember trying to remove marbles that had been cemented into a clothes hanger post that my dad and aunt had put there or daring to venture into the workshop of 1000 clocks. (Grampa was a clock repair man somtimes i think maybe?)

Frequently they would give Kevin and I a dollar, or maybe just a quarter, whatever was lying around to put in our piggy banks which grew quite heavy. When I got thinking about it today that’s really the only thing I had in my possesion to remember them by. I was given no picture, those are all locked away with ann or my aunt, I was given no tokens or things from the house. All I have is a little thing that is used to keep flowers alive at the funeral, like a test tube with a rubber lid. Who would have known that would be the sole rememberance of my grandparents. I have two, both are in the tupperware drawer.

Yea, I wish I had better memories with them. Unfortunately my mothers dad died while she was still a child so I never met him. Her mom is alive and doing so-so down in NJ. Dad’s parents have both passed on now. I feel like visiting their gravestone sometime, but I don’t think I can return their lil flower water thing yet, I feel like I stole it from them. MMM.. I call them by their polish names (all i ever knew them as). “Babci” (pronounced Bap[b]-chee) Helen Michalski and “Dziadzio” (pronounced “Jad-jew”) Albert Michalski.

Yupp.. not sure what else to say here… Dziadzio was a lot like me, he was the only one in my family who could buy me a decent gift… motors, switches, batteries, lights, etc.

I wish I could shop.. sound wierd, but I’m fascinated..

and tired…

Goodnight world!

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