1,576,800

Today is not about me, Tippy Stockton, jewelry, or anything in the present. Today is about my Mom. 1,576,800 minutes ago, my Mom left this earth. So that means that I have been missing her for 1,576,800 minutes. When you pencil it out, it's been a long time. So I thought today I would give you a little history on this amazing woman I called Mom.

Born on August 15, 1928 to a German immigrant Mother (Julia Kaempf), and an Irish Immigrant Father (William Frances Dwyer). Arriving a year before the Great Depression, life was not always easy for the Dwyer's. Money was scarce, but they always seemed to make it. Until my Mom's Father William died of a sudden heart attack when my Mom was 10. My Mom was put in charge of taking care of things around the house so that my Grandmother could go out and make some kind of a living. We were always amazed when we heard that she worked for several Jewish family's in Jamaica Queens, NY. She being a German Immigrant and all.


Probably one of the most amazing things is that through it all, my Mother NEVER missed one day of school for 12 years. Wow!

In 1950, my Mother entered the convent to become a nun. She joined the order of the School Sisters of Notre Dame located in Baltimore, MD. After spending almost 7 years as a noviate, she decided that this was not the life for her. She was destined to become a wife and mother.

Getting out of the convent meant that she was now a woman on the prowl. She got herself a job working for Morrie, the owner of a Junk Yard in Brooklyn. This is where she would eventually meet her Prince Charming, my Dad Joe!

The BIG DAY was September 14, 1957. Surrounded by family and friends, she and my Dad said their I DO's in the same Parish church that she was brought up in.

On a snowy day in November, 1960 I was born. Their firstborn . . . a daughter they would call Patricia Ann (a name for both of them Patrick (Daddy), and Ann (Mommy).

Many happy days ensued and so many memories made . . .

The birth of her first grandchild (Kellan, my son) was one of the happiest days of her life. She loved this little boy. She was his caretaker for the first year of his life.

I love this picture as it is one of the last photos taken of my Mom and I. What you don't see is Mom's other hand, as she's goosing me from behind. I think I love that we were laughing and kidding around. That's how I choose to remember her.

And this is Mom's legacy . . . my brother's and I. Patricia, Joe, and Chris.

As each anniversary passes (and they really haven't gotten any easier), I am reminded of the love and laughter that we shared for the years we had with my Mom and Dad. I know they are celebrating today in heaven . . . the day she got her wings! I love you Mom.