March 21, 1970
Last night Bill and Marsha came over. We were all talking at Auntie Vi’s, and spinal meningitis was mentioned. A boy had died of it at P.C. last Friday. Having been with P.C. guys a couple of times, I panicked. Then I called Jerry at P.C. about going to Dover tomorrow. He said another boy had died. It only takes 12 hours.
Well, Father, you know how I flipped out. Fear of death again, now. I guess I’m the world’s worst hypochondriac! Andy my faith. Boy am I weak, Father. Boy, how I need you! Please never leave me, never let me turn away. You are my all. And thank you for my suffering, small though it may be. Teach me – to love You first of all, to love your children, to pray. And, Father – please teach me to have confidence in Your love. Thank you again.
Only let me be worthy of your love, Father. (Psalm 29)
Kathie Gagne died 4,757 days ago.
March 18, 1970
Thank you for teaching me a little more about faith and peave, Father. And for taking up my burden.
I’m going to try again to lose weight, but you already know. I feel strange about asking for something like this when you’ve already given so much, but you know I can’t make it alone.
March 16, 1970
I asked today if you would let me know whether or not you wanted me to work at the market. Nothing like a flat “no.”
And, about the daydream, thanks. You know how easily I get carried away.
I was worried a little about loving Joe and Father John so much. But it seems that’s the only way I can love, the way I love you. All the way. Only the love I have for you, Father, is combined with awe and, well, you know. It’s hard to believe that you love me so much. It’s hard to believe that they love me so much.
Thank you for the physical contact I have needed so much and thank you for answering my unspoken prayer that Sunday when I first met Joe. His hugs and Father John’s affectionate squeeze on the chin meant so much to me. One of my needs you fulfilled. And Thursday, when Joe came up and wouldn’t let go and Father John wanted more than a handshake! Wow! Of course. It all hits me now. You showed me their love to show me yours. Glory and praise, Father.
Still praying for a man but now surer than ever that your plan for me is good with or without.
[Redacted] may not be as far along as I thought.
March 11, 1970
I’ll try to write every day now, Lord, although I’m not quite sure why.
[Redacted] came home today. I’m not sure if he’s okay. I pray. Told him a little about You and the prayer meetings. He may come tomorrow night. Whether [redacted] comes or not, you’ll be there and I can’t wait. Please help [redacted]. He has so many problems. How he needs you!
Mom graduated from Pilgrim High School in Warwick, Rhode Island in 1966. Here she is sitting on a front porch with her maternal grandfather, Antonio “Papa Tony” DiFolco, and his sister, Concetta Vicinni, who was visiting from Italy at the time.
The stamp on this photo says October, but I have to assume that’s simply when the picture was developed and that she probably graduated around May or June.
Update: The woman in this photo was previously incorrectly identified as Concetta “Nana Connie” DiFolco, the wife of Antonio. This has been corrected.
June 1962
I really wish mom had done a better job of writing dates on photographs. I have no way to know when this photo was taken. I am guessing — and it really is a guess — that it might be her confirmation, which would place it sometime around 1960. But I just don’t know. Maybe it was just a nice Sunday afternoon. Or maybe they were going to a fancy dinner. I’ll likely never know.
Mom is in the middle, standing between her parents, my maternal grandparents, Vincent Albanese and Anna (DiFolco) Albanese.
As far as I know, this is the earliest photo that exists of mom. She was born in late September, and looks to be about three months old, so I’m guessing this was taken around Christmas of 1948.
I love this photo and it brings me such joy to see her so happy, even if she was just a baby. Look at that smile!