Anna Sorocer, my mother’s mother, was born in a small town in Rumania
and when she was a girl she met a Handsome Man in a bank
line and she married him although in retrospect she said
it might have been a mistake but she married him and in a long story
that is a different poem she found herself 18, with a baby daughter,
in Grand Forks, North Dakota and you can only imagine that.
She had three more children (my mother was number three).
In her thirties she became a widow. Her oldest, Dolly,
had long legs and ran away to marry a tennis
player. This was not in the script. Alex, the second child, only boy,
was treated like the only boy. An adventuresome
spirit (he owned nightclubs for a while in Montana) and very beautiful
clothing. My mother was the most social of them all and after she died
we found a box of engagement rings from before she married my father.
Ruthie was the baby. She got all A’s and had a beautiful smile. Years later
when my grandmother moved to Beverly Hills with Alex, she wrote letters
each week and her letters always started with the weather. Because they were
in California the weather was perfect more or less. Before she ended the
letter with love, she wrote Always Remember, Life is a Dream.