Down Memory Lane

Yesterday we drove to Connecticut from Boston for a couple of days, because  this morning Mr. W's parents' ashes were interred in the family plot at a cemetery in Fairfield -- the town they lived in for most of their adult lives.  It was a bittersweet ceremony, sad, but also wonderful because so many family members were there to bid them one last loving farewell.  The weather was cold, grey, dreary, and drizzly when we arrived, but just as the graveside service came to its conclusion, the sun broke through the clouds as if Lee and Ernie were smiling down on us all.  There was a gathering afterwards at the Pequot Yacht Club, where they had been enthusiastic and active members for many years.  I did feel sad looking out at the harbour without the familiar sight of their boat. 

To round out our nostalgic trip to Fairfield, we drove by our old house where we lived for twenty years, and raised our boys.  It's the one in the top left hand corner above -- a wonderful old colonial farmhouse built in 1804 by one Samuel Beers.  The other house is where Mr. W's parents lived, and where Mr. W spent his childhood.  It is one of only a handful of homes left standing after the British burned Fairfield in 1779 during the American Revolution.  It was built in 1765 by Justin Hobart.