On Martinis and Mozart: A Remembrance of My Father, George F. Brett (1904-1995)

This post is my third family remembrance in just over three weeks. The three members of my nuclear family all died in the springtime, and each year, on the anniversaries of their passing, I honor them in some way. My dad passed away in 1995, 24 years ago. I first published this post about my dad ten years ago in my blog, "Musings from the Third Half." It takes the form of an imaginary Facebook profile of him. At that time, I had been on Facebook only one year. *** My dad, George Fairburn Brett, died 14 years ago today at age 91. His life spanned most of the 20th century. He was born not long after the Wright Brothers successfully flew their plane at Kitty Hawk, saw our world shrink first th

My Mother, My Muse

Today is the 19th anniversary of the death of my mother. In 2010, I wrote this post in remembrance of her in a blog I maintained for several years called "Musings from the Third Half." My mother always had faith in me. I know she would be so proud to learn that her youngest is not only a published novelist but also an artist, whose work is accepted into juried shows. At the tiime I wrote this, I was neither. *** Josephine Carlton Brett (June 9, 1908-April 3, 2000) was born in London within the sound of the Bow Bells, making her a true Cockney, but her parents were Jewish immigrants from Russia and Eastern Europe. Her life spanned most of the 20th century, encompassing two world wars and the

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