RHYTHM OF OUR DAILY LIVES:BUBBE DIED

RHYTHM OF THE DORCHESTER YEARS:1950-1964

We lived at 104 American Legion Highway for ten years. Shirley worked as a Bookkeeper five days a week at a 9-5 job. On Friday night we went to Bubbe's house. On saturdays we went shopping down Blue Hill Avenue. On sundays, Shirley stayed in bed almost all day and I was not permitted to make any noise or go outside until she got up which was well past noon. I went to school, the Robert Treat Paine School, grades kindergarten through sixth grade. After public school I went to Hebrew school for four years. Before Hebrew school I went to dance/ballet classes for two years. We had a recital at the old John Hancock building in Boston. (I was going to get my toe shoes in the third year, but Shirley said I had to go to Hebrew school instead. I whined about that for the rest of my life) I almost fell off the chair while  talking to her on the phone about a year before she died and out of the blue she said, "...Carol, I will buy you a pair of ballet shoes now if you want..." Shirley said Hebrew school was in lieu of daycare. What she actually said was, "If anything happens to me, I am going to tell people that you are at the Beth El Hebrew school and you better be there!" After sixth grade, I went to Girls Latin School for the seventh and eighth grades. During every one of those summers I went to a Jewish day camp sponsored by the Hecht House for two months, June and July and then I went to overnight camp at Camp Kingswood for three weeks in August in Bridgeton, Maine where we had an Oneg Shabbat every Friday night (more on Camp Kingswood later)

Shirley used to sing during the Dorchester years. Sometimes the neighbors thought it was the radio, she had such a good voice. She loved Frank Sinatra. I remember her singing Mein Yiddishe Mama, My Funny Valentine, Nat King Cole, Chestnuts Roasting on An Open Fire....

BUBBE/BOBY DIED
On December 7, 1962 Bubbe died. Our lives changed. My life changed. No going to Bubbe's house on Friday nights anymore. No going to her  house on the holidays. I was 12 years old. Shirley went after work to the Brigham and Women's Hospital every night until she died. I remember when she came home and told me Bubbe died. Pancreatic cancer. I did not go the funeral. Shirley told me I had to stay with a friend. I was not given a choice to go or not. It was like she just disappeared from my life. Life went on. Different.