CosAnnM Artist photographer#NFT (🐝,🐝) 2076

I grew up in a working class, intercity neighborhood where Catholics outnumbered the Protestants 10 to 1. Where there was a church on every corner with a bar across the street. Where a family of 5 was small. It was the 50’s/60’s! By all accounts life should’ve been beautiful and easy. It was anything but. 1953 my parents met at a dance in a ballroom 20 miles out of the city limits, while my father was on leave from the army. He was tall, good looking, with a “ladies man” attitude. He was a natural salesman. He was wearing his army uniform. He had an 8th grade education. My mother was a dark hair, deep brown eyed beauty who had just come into her own. She was the “ugly ducking” who turned into the beautiful swan with a killer sense of humor. She wore a lavender dress. She was a straight A student, and voted mostly likely to succeed. Both were extroverts. While talking they found out they lived only a few blocks from each other. He asked her to dance. He told her that night he was going to marry her. My father served during the Korean War. Soon after he had met my mother the war had ended, but he was stationed state side with some more time to serve. They got to know each other through letters and phone calls. She picked him up at the train station when his time was up. They dated. He wrote her poems and told her he was going to build her a house on the river. She was taken in by his charm and his dreams. He drank, she didn’t. He proposed, she said, “yes”. My mother’s father was a good man. Educated. Lutheran. He had 9 sisters. His family immigrated from Germany right before he was born. Her mother was the baby of her family with 12 years separating her and her sister. Catholic. Her family immigrated from Canada they were French and helped established the oldest continuously used church , a Catholic Church in my city. My grandfather met my grandmother when he was 19 and she was 14. He was smitten, but waited, living his life until she became of age. She told him she couldn’t marry him until he had enough money to buy a house. They married “late” in life. Neither of my grandparents drank. My father’s parents also married later. My grandmother had 2 sisters and a brother. Her parents came over from Ireland. Catholic. She was fearlessly independent, rode an Indian Motorcycle at the age of 19, and ran a restaurant she owned with her sisters. My grandfather was a railroad man, came from Iowa. His family came from Germany. Catholic. My grandmother didn’t drink, he did. They met while he took his lunch breaks. The restaurant was across from ice house where he worked. He was a couple years younger than her. Stay turned, to be continued…

Toby was the best dog to photograph! He had such a great attitude and sorta gangster! If you see this could you give it a like, if you like it! 😂

I haven’t posted anything for awhile. I started writing out my story here. I decided not to do that. I’m going to write something, but it’s going to be God stories. I no longer want to focus on me. I’ll be using my photography as well. It only seems right, telling God stories while showing the gift and talent God gave me. Pray for me. Now is the time!

If you see this know that I prayed for you, before Our Lord and Savior in the Tabernacle! I love being Catholic!

Prayers are needed for my friend’s 18 months old grandson. He went unconscious and is being rushed tothe hospital.

Archbishop Sheen is up for canonization. This process will make this generation today know him, for such a time as this!

I give her 2 years and she’ll be either Catholic or will be attending OCIA classes.