I worked with Maryann Haggerty's daughter, Maryann, at the Sunrise Mall on Long Island.  When Mair's mom came to visit, I greeted her as Mrs. Sapanara.  I quickly learned that she was no longer a Sapanara, and that I should simply call her Maryann.  Well, I was a little uncomfortable with that, so I suggested Big Maryann.  As I am sure you can guess, THAT did not go over well.  So, the name Medium Maryann was born.

So, Medium Maryann woud come to the mall now and then and do some shopping and she would always stop by the snack bar.  I never wanted to charge her, but I also didn't want to get in trouble for giving away free food.  So, no matter WHAT Medium Maryann ordered, I would just say, "Gimme $3."  That was our thing.

I think of her and her family every day, and it breaks my heart that she is gone. 

I spent one night in Maryann's home in Massapequa, and she made the most bedlike couch I've ever slept on. Not only were the couch cushions tightly covered in sheets, she had a way of tucking in the flat sheet so it seemed attached to the couch and did not pull out or crumple the way it would if it was simply draped on top like a blanket. Perfect!

If only I owned a couch...

Growing up, we were always told that Mom was "deathly allergic" of cats.  It was phrased just that way, every time.

All 3 of us kids ended up with cats.

Mom learned to stock up on her allergy meds but still tried to be careful around our pets.  The pets, for their part, usually tried to behave.

My cat, Phoebe, figured Mom was just kidding and made herself comfortable right in Mom's face.  

Mom loved Christmas and decorated every possible surface.  Most of the decorations were great.  There was, however, one ornament which was just so...annoying.

It was a gold colored filigree ball.  It wasn't terrible looking.  But it chirped.  It chirped like the most irritating bird who ever lived.  

I don't know what became of that original ornament.  It disappearred many years ago.  But one day, in a little variety store, I found the exact same ornament.  The box was very old, and I knew it was exactly like the one we had grown up with.  

This picture is Mom seeing it.   

Mom was not overly excited when I told her we had adopted a Rotweiller.  She, like many, knew only of the breed's bad reputation.  

Then they met.  

My ridiculous, affectionate bear of a dog won Mom over in short order.  She would practically lose her mind when Mema would come to visit and Mom just loved that dog.  

This picture is from the first Christmas we had the dog.  Mom naturally bought presents for her newest grandpet.  She chose large fuzzy balls in green and red, of course.  By the time we served dinner, it looked as if someone had murdered Elmo in a terrible way under our table.

Mema's subsequent gifts were of the tougher variety.  :)