Christmas at the Gaffneys was always such a wondrous event. First of all, I marveled at how Elsie and Charlie, their parents, could keep track of what each of their seven children-- Danny, Charlie, Tommy, Bobby, Mary, Ann and Ellen -- all wanted. How each seemed to get exactly the right presents, which always included clothing. My own, conversely, was the small, Jewish clan in a neighborhood of large, boisterous Irish-Catholic families. The Deegans, the Mulvehills, the Nortons, the Gaffneys and us.
My favorite part of the holiday was appearing at their back door on Christmas Day evening, knowing there was a delicious turkey or ham carcass in the refrigerator and that I could just slip in and pick the meat right off the bones! I loved their tree in the living room. I loved how Charlie, home from Yale, would sit at the piano and play holiday tunes for everyone. I loved the joking and teasing. I loved being included. There was always a new record for the girls. We would run upstairs and steal away for hours, listening, singing, laughing in the room the three girls shared. Some years it was comedy and we would begin the ritual of memorizing George Carlin's or Cheech and Chong's routines. Later on, it was Dylan or Harry Chapin and we'd study the album covers, pouring over the lyrics, singing our hearts out.
Joyous, wonderful times.
Yesterday morning, while preparing for our holiday feast, I received news that Ann Gaffney was murdered. Bludgeoned to death by her drug-addled tenant in Hurley, NY. There will never be a Christmas I will not think of her. There will always be a hole where that joy once was. But what I will think of is something her sister said in her eulogy: may the angels wrap their wings around Ann..and around all of those loved ones we have lost this year. And may we smile in remembrance of all of our friends next door. G-d bless.
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