Den60
New member
I shared a story in the "Spicy Food" thread and though a thread sharing some family stories would be great. I have a few but will start with one (though it is actually two).
My maternal grandmother didn't approve of my Mom dating my Dad. My Dad had dual American/Canadian citizenship and came to San Diego in the 50's because he would work year round (he was a plasterer). He always knew that one day he would own his own company (and he did and had a very successful one and his reputation for quality was unsurpassed here in town). But when he was courting my Mom he was just someone working in the trades and my grandmother felt my Mom could do much better than that. He married my Mom and in 1958 he and she bought their first house in Paradise Hills, just up the hill from my maternal grandparents. He used to tell my grandmother that he took my Mom "out of the ghetto and put her up on the hill." Later on in the mid 60's my grandmother had a stroke. Her doctor recommended that she have one glass of red wine per day. My grandmother, being devoutly Christian, couldn't bring herself to go to the local liquor store to buy it so my Dad would do that for her. He would walk up the sidewalk entrance to their home holding a brown paper bag and say, quite loudly, "I've got your liquor!"
My maternal grandmother didn't approve of my Mom dating my Dad. My Dad had dual American/Canadian citizenship and came to San Diego in the 50's because he would work year round (he was a plasterer). He always knew that one day he would own his own company (and he did and had a very successful one and his reputation for quality was unsurpassed here in town). But when he was courting my Mom he was just someone working in the trades and my grandmother felt my Mom could do much better than that. He married my Mom and in 1958 he and she bought their first house in Paradise Hills, just up the hill from my maternal grandparents. He used to tell my grandmother that he took my Mom "out of the ghetto and put her up on the hill." Later on in the mid 60's my grandmother had a stroke. Her doctor recommended that she have one glass of red wine per day. My grandmother, being devoutly Christian, couldn't bring herself to go to the local liquor store to buy it so my Dad would do that for her. He would walk up the sidewalk entrance to their home holding a brown paper bag and say, quite loudly, "I've got your liquor!"