Dedication to My Mom and Auntie
  

 
     To Mrs. Nancy Oliver, Wilder. For raising me alone without a father, working for minimum wage in a hot laundry mat for years while we lived in a small apartment. We often did not have enough food. I would sneak outside and dig for empty soda bottles to cash in for money to buy crackers. I remember the day a man at the recycling store yelled at me, stating I cannot bring him bottles from the trash! Men would be cruel to Mom, try to corrupt her, but she would not break from her Catholic faith and favorite Saint, St. Anne, The Virgin Mary's Mother. Mom saved her money and bought a Art Instruction Schools Course for me when I was 7 years old. (The school that is advertised on matchbook covers and in TV Guide.) I remember thinking how boring it was to draw the stick figures of people, thinking its not helping my ability to draw and I wanted to go back to just copying cartoon pictures of Moose Miller, Fred Flintstone, Bugs Bunny, Donald Duck, Popeye, Dr. Strange from the comics. I realized at age 53 that the course helped me to draw the 500 pictures in Dr. Bates Better Eyesight Magazine and other Natural Eyesight Improvement books.
    My Aunt Betty is a very good artist, used to draw lifelike pictures of baseball players, boxers, my grandfather when he was a Middle Weight Champion Boxer, Police Sergeant in New England, Massachusetts. She also drew cartoons and now paints. She helped to teach me how to draw. I cannot draw as well as most artists, but the basic skills helped to create the books.

                                         
       
 
In 4th grade Elementary School I had to wear eyeglasses to see the blackboard from the back of the classroom. Mom bought the eyeglasses for me though she could not afford to spend the money.  Stress can cause unclear vision. I was in constant fear at school due to a large boy that would bully me every day, wait to scare me, threaten to beat me up after school at the end of a long dirt road. I can still see him standing there, picking out kids to bully, knowing I was next along the line. I do not remember him actually hitting me, mainly just coming up to me and acting like he was going to in order to scare me. Frazzled my nerves daily. During childhood and adult life I was hit in the head, face a few times by other children and adult men. (Snow, ice balls, and violent people.) I know this contributed to unclear vision and a very slight wandering eyes condition. Neck vertebrae, collarbone or skull, eye socket, joints, bones misalignment?
My teacher also wore glasses. Children pick up eyestrain, incorrect use of the eyes, tension and lowered vision from being around people that wear glasses and stressful experiences in school... I hated the glasses and threw them out in a couple weeks. I sat closer to the blackboard and this prevented strain, effort to see and the vision returned to clear. I could then see clear from the back of the class when necessary. Mom made friends with the bully's family, talked to them about how he terrorizes the kids at school. Then he decided to be my friend. We played 'The Long Ranger' make believe game together.
     Mom could not afford to pay for the glasses but was kind and let me go without wearing glasses. My vision remained about 20/20-20/40 for years and it never bothered me. (Wish I knew The Bates Method back then, would have had 20/20 and clearer vision.)

Mother 'Nancy Wilder-Cronin' passed away on May 4th, 2015

  https://pillsburyfuneralhome.com/runtime.php?SiteId=69452&NavigatorId=265560   

https://pillsburyfuneralhome.com/book-of-memories/2139396/Wilder-Nancy-/obituary.php
 

 To Mom

History, Happy Times; Remembering Mother Nancy Ann Wilder (Cronin)

Mom often told me about the happy times she shared growing up on Kimball Street in her hometown, Brookfield Massachusetts. Captivating stories of the people she knew in childhood, high school, her family and friends.

Ice skating on the frog pond in the woods. Playing basketball. Dances. I like the story about the time Mom and Aunt Betty (her identical twin sister) and their friends; (possibly Marian Gadaire and cousin Father Eugene) stole one of her father’s cigars. They hid in the historic Indian caves to smoke it. Cut it into 4 pieces to share. Got sick. Never smoked again. The caves are not very big, just two small entries. To a young kid it’s a great adventure. They all took the challenge of crawling through them and hanging out together in the big cave. How many generations of children, teens and adults have memories of mischief, adventure in the caves?

Picking wild blueberries up on Mrs. Bernie and Pete-Evelyn Night’s hill. Blackberries down on Mill Street near the river. That yearly event carried into the next generation. You do not need to travel the world, live in a big city to have fun. My best memories are from growing up with Mom, Auntie, Uncle Ernie and 5 cousins ‘Mike, Tom, Shell, Liz and Cathy’ and all the neighbors and their kids on Kimball street. Mom taught me how to ice skate. She bought me a bike, the old comfortable high handlebar 1970’s type. Took us to the city’s for shopping, dinners, to the circus, baseball games, Hampton Beach. All this done as a single mother with a low paying job raising a daughter alone. She saved her money all year to do this. Every weekend; she and Auntie, Unkie put their money together for cookouts, buying us airplane gliders, kites, marshmallows to toast outside in the red brick fireplace at night. Sleeping out in tents, catching lightning bugs. All the fun stuff of childhood.

They bought us sleds, long plastic toboggans to slide in the winter snow. When Mom was a child she and family, friends would slide down the steep back yard hill and fly into the air jumping over the ramp on the stone wall into the frozen swamp. As adults they still went sliding like this with us. Sliding down Kimball street with the high snow banks on each side of the road, colored Christmas lights on the houses. A true life fairy tale dreamland. This was passed on to us kids. Mom would buy ice cream, goodies uptown and then slide down Kimball street to Uncle Ernie, Aunts house with us. Crawling underground through the drain pipe, hiking in the woods, building forts, tree houses, playing secret agent in our hideouts in the cellar. So many stories, happy times. I had a very happy childhood thanks to mother.

Mom’s first marriage was around 1957. For some reason it did not work out. She moved back to Brookfield and gave birth to me in the Worcester Hospital. This began many years alone working to support herself and a daughter. A German lady named Iva helped my mother, baby-sitting while she went to work. Mom said she was a very kind woman. Mom took good care of our home. We are members of the Catholic Church.

I remember later we moved to Warren, MA so she could be close to her job; she worked for very low pay in a kind of slave labor type laundry mat. She stayed there for years. Often she did not have enough money for complete meals. I remember one day we were on the Catholic Church steps in Warren. The priest or some kind hearted person left a big box of apples. Mom and I quickly shoved a bunch of them in our coats and ran off! One day I saw a neighbor digging up Coca-Cola bottles in the back of the apartment building. He said you can cash them in for money. I started doing this. The extra money paid for a pack of crackers. Then a neighbor told the store owner where I was getting the bottles. He yelled, was so angry and said he won’t accept bottles from kids anymore.

I admired my mother’s religious side; Low on money, sometimes we did not have electricity or heat. Many times our landlord, a married man, told her “if she would date him, he would give her free electricity”. She refused to date him. I know Mom stayed true to her religion because when she was low on money we did not have lights or heat in the house until she saved money, paid the bill.

She stayed alone with me most of her young life. Life was hard for her. I thank her for putting up with me, a kid with a mind mainly on toys, mischief and stealing sugar. I liked to draw cartoons. She saved money and purchased an Art Instruction Course for me. I hated it! Drawing stick figures and other boring things. Later in life with her advice I learned computers. That course was useful. I was able to draw pictures needed for a business. I preserve antique Natural Eyesight Improvement books and add pictures to them to make it easier to learn. Many people have stated the method improved their eyesight. It’s free on the internet with a dedication-thank you to Mom.

Years passed by, Mom still meeting ends, saving pennies, good and bad life events. My mother always prayed to St. Anne (Jesus’s mother Mary’s mom). She has a statue of her in her bedroom and her many rosaries from priests, family, loved ones and Saint Anne’s Shrine in Sturbridge, Massachusetts. She would say the rosary and her Novena to St. Anne asking her for a better job and for help finding a nice, kind man to love and marry.

In later years she worked for Eddie Urban in his shoe factory in Ware, MA. They liked her work. Eddie and his wife Barbara hired her to work in the office. Finally a higher paying and easy job! She said they were the best bosses she ever worked for. Mom loved to dance, is a very good dancer. Did the Jitterbug and others. Danced with a Jewish man Irving Eisenstak (spelling last name?) at the Urban’s yearly Christmas party.

She continued to work, saved money and moved to Brookfield. Took a carpool to work. We moved into Chester Cheeko’s apartment building; an old house, very large, historic type on the top of Kimball street, 10 min walk from her childhood home.
Mom had money to bake pies, cookies, send us kids to the clam box... We played baseball, football and other games in the school field. Nice yard, dogs, horses, apple orchard. Mr. Cheeko would bring us to his farm.

When I was about 19 years old we lived on Rt. 9 across from Dr. Angia's big grass-dandelion field. Another nice area of Brookfield. Walk through woods to railroad tracks and the Quaboag river. I got involved in a bad gang in Brookfield and West Brookfield. Mom put up with a lot of crazy teenage stuff. I finally grew of that, took her advice.

One day Mom and I were in the old house on Kimball Street talking in the kitchen with the family, having fun as usual, aunt cooks chocolate chip cookies and us kids plan how to steal them (Mike always making us laugh). A man knocked on the door. His name was Robert. At first he just said he was walking around the old town. I asked him if he wants to meet my mother. He said yes. I called her out from the living room. Truth was; Robert was a member of Mom, Aunt’s high school, they were in the same class. Bob secretly had a crush on Mom in school but was shy, never asked her out. He was on Kimball street that day hoping to find her again! They fell in love and later married.

From that day on my mother’s life changed in a big way. I think St. Anne answered her prayers. Robert bought an old house for her on Kimball street, (Mrs. Breton’s house) right next to her childhood home. It was falling apart. Bob can build just about anything. He rebuilt the house from scratch. Mom worked with him. He furnished it with modern equipment. Bought mother a car and anything she needed. She no longer had to live in a tiny apartment worrying about bills, being miles away from family. No more holding a heavy bag waiting for the bus to get to work, visit family. She often told me he is the best husband; very good at taking care of his family. She wrote me often in California saying how happy she was, that she loved Bob and he loved her. They were happy. She really appreciated the life he brought her.

One of the things Mom liked best was joining the historical groups and socializing with the members at the Quabbin Reservoir with Bob. Many were people from their childhood. She loves to be with the public, cares about the people she meets, cherishes friends and is truly interested in the things they like to do, their qualities. She likes to keep the peace, balance, harmony and equality for all. Smiling, happy. Loves food! Sneaks to the grocery store for chocolate muffins.

I have learned much from her. She has many good things that my personality lacks. She felt very close to people she grew up with. When I was about age 13, one day she told me she cannot walk down to Aunties that day on the scheduled time because she was going to the funeral of Mary Masuzzo. Being young, self-involved, I rarely cried. I met Mom on her way to Kimball Street after the funeral. She was talking as usual.., then she cried. Said she liked Mary Masuzzo and will miss her a lot. I saw my mom cry a few other times over bills, life struggles and after one person was very evil to her, left her all alone in that 1st apartment in Warren during a very dangerous time ‘event’ that person caused.

The time she cried after Mary Masuzzo’s funeral was different; it was for a dear friend. Someone that truly was kind to her. It was a side of her personality ‘sprit’ I am grateful to have experienced. It removed some of the carelessness in my soul.

My mother loves her Mother (Lena Cronin, Newspaper Reporter, Worcester, MA) very much. She spoke of her to me many times. It broke her heart when her mother died young. While walking with Mom in her garden, she always told me nice things about Grandma Lena. She also loved Gramma Anne. She loved and admired her father. (James Emit Cronin, State Police Sgt., New England Middle Weight Champion Boxer). He spent a lot of time with his two daughters. Gramps played baseball. Mom, aunt and friends would go to his games. Gram met Gramps when she kept bugging him for a baseball game interview.

Mom loved her garden. Growing up next door to Mrs. Bretons, she adored the different flowers in her yard. She never had flowers in a yard of her own when she lived in apartments. Wish I could have had more time in the garden with her. When Bob and Mom bought the Breton house they kept the flowers and planted many more. I am sure the family will preserve this into future generations. In heaven there are many mansions. I bet Mom is already planting flowers in a yard with the angels.

During a time when Bob was injured, sick; Mom helped him.
During her time of illness and passing; Bob took care of her.

Thank you.

Before Mom passed away I kept having dreams of her for about 6 weeks. She was crying, could not walk, very sad look on her face. The dreams were so vivid. I asked family members if she was ok. They said yes. I had a second dream about a week later; she was back on Route 9 trying to go up the stairs in our old apartment. She looked so sad, trying hard but could not free herself of something bad, a strange illness. In the dream I ran to the door and saw that ‘being defeated, fear, worn out look’ on her face. After that dream I called the main house and found out she had been ill for a couple... weeks. About 3 weeks later she passed away. Was the dream a sign; the Pillsbury Funeral Home and cemetery are a few blocks away from the old house on Rt. 9 in that dream.

I will be there at Pillsbury on Saturday May 9th, 2015 at 10:00 a.m. Not to say good-bye; To help send her off to Heaven.


With love to the best, A #1 Mom!

Daughter Mary and Entire Family.

Cause of Death;

She went though a very difficult time but thank heaven this was not a long drawn out illness. In the end the doctors helped her relax and she fell asleep on the 3rd of May and complete permanent sleep on the 4th.

I suspect the drug companies, drug Fosamax and others were responsible for her death. It could have been something else, people say skin cancer, it spread but I truly believe that the drugs caused or added to the problem. Why did she have blood clots in her knees, shoulder, brain? Clots are a side effect of Fosamax.

These drug businesses, the stock market promote the drugs to senior citizens. Many seniors are old fashioned, (this is good in many ways) but; they do not use the internet so they have only the TV news to rely on for the truth. They are lied to for years, the truth about a drug's side effects being posted on tv, radio, newspapers only after many people have been injured and the news stations can no longer hide the facts.

The drug companies used her, harmed her;
but I thank them for the drugs they providing in the end that eased the pain and allowed her to fall asleep and pass to heaven.

Thank you to the family on both sides and the many friends that attended the funeral. We all felt like our home town, the citizens were one family. I felt like I am 'home'.

Very nice funeral directors and I love the African (black) priest!

Thank you.