So…it is not the longest night of the year when, for the last few years, I usually try to post something. No, I was losing my mind trying to catch up with Christmas stuff after being sick for a week with a miserable cold (and probably sinus infection). No, tonight is another memorable day of the year…my Father’s birthday. He would have been 112 years old today. He passed 24 years ago. He often claimed he did not want anything for his birthday…Christmas was enough. I still think he was pleased with the cake my Mama would make for him and (when we were young) the presents we would make for him. The story I was told was on this night 112 years ago one of the nursing nuns of St. Alexis hospital in Cleveland asked my Grandmother Anna what was her baby’s name. Anna wasn’t sure and the Sister suggested Stephen seeing it was the feast day St. Stephen. Anna liked that, and so he was named Stephen. Now, St. Stephen is the patron saint of martyrs he is also the patron saint of bricklayers and stonemasons. Stonemasons…yes, that would be his patron saint. First he was a sign painter. When he married my Mama Marcella and the found their “forever” home he added to it with stone. First, a stone wall around the property and then the facing of the breezeway and the garage he built.
For years I didn’t understand why he stopped painting. The last thing I know he painted is on the wall behind me, it is a painting of the house he wanted to build. And build he did. Through the winter my Mama was pregnant with me, he painted his dream of what he wanted the house to be. Fifty some years later as I was sitting on my herb garden bench on that very property he worked so hard and for so long on, leaning against the shed he built, looking at the house and the garage, I realized that all his artistic creativity went into the building of the wall and the breezeway and the house. The inspiration I was looking for in the living room border was right there in front of me…the architectural detail on the garage. And, so I painted his design on the living room wall.
Now, I could go on…but the story gets kind of sad after a while and on this St. Stephen’s Day and while it is still the Christmas season…I prefer to stop here and to thank God for Stephen and Marcella and the love and lessons I’ve had because of them. Happy Birthday Dad.
Love,