I am home from my weekend away in Boston and just as I predicted it did wonders for my attitude. It was one of the best trips home because it was busy without being too hectic. I got to sit by the ocean and eat lobster, drink wine overlooking the Boston skyline and spend quality time with my family. It also inspired a new project which I couldn't be more excited about. My sisters and I have decided to write a memoir about our family - specifically our grandparents. It came about for a few reasons the major one being that after my Uncle Al died this past April, it left my father with no siblings. He is the last of his generation and we got to thinking about how little we actually know about his childhood and the story of his parents. When I was born, my Grandfather Felix (my mothers father) was the only grandparent still alive and he was in his late 80s. I don't really remember him. Growing up, my parents never really talked about their parents or what it was like back then. I've always loved history and what better history is there than that or your own family. The other reason we want to document and research our history is because it is so unique. I am 100% Lithuanian and never mind that I don't know anyone else other than members of my family that are Lithuanian, most people don't' even know what it is. Some people have thought it is a religion (no, that's Lutheran), others just say they never heard of it. As a kid I didn't think it was cool to be Lithuanian. It was too different from the Irish kids populating my neighborhood. I felt weird and different. Now, I think it's amazing. My brothers and sisters and I are the last pure blooded Lithuanians in the family. It is time to preserve our unique and special history. The story of our grandparents is the classic American dream story. The all came over from Ellis Island in the turn of the century seeking a new and better life. Its definitely going to take some digging on our parts to trace our roots back to Lithuania but I am up for the challenge. Its kind of sad how little I know about my culture. We grew up eating Lithuanian food every holiday and going to the Lithuanian club in Southie and picnics on Labor day but other than that, I know nothing. My father didn't even speak English until he went to school in this country yet he remembers not one word of his native language. There is no time like the present to preserve the richness of our past. It is going to take some time and effort but what the hell else do I have going on? I was just raving in my last post about how I need to write more. Well, someone heard my plea and this fell into my lap. Thank you universe for hearing me!
There are varying definitons and opinions about what defines a classic but they all have 3 things in common: 1. It stands the test of time 2. It has universal appeal 3. It has artistic quality I have to add my own to these three and that is that it moves you to feel something - whether it be love, hate, anger, sadness or joy, a classic work of literture should have the power to move. This has led me to reflect upon my first real experience with being moved by a book. I read a lot as a child and teenager but largely to impress my mother who was a librarian. My reading experience didn't extend beyond Stephen King and the Baby Sitter's Club books. Then my junior year in high school, my English teacher assigned, "A Separate Peace." by John Knowles, a typical high school reading list book. I approached it like I did every school assigment - with diligence but little to no enthusiasm. Three quarters of the book was pretty forgettable....
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