I'm With Them - Jean O'Neill's Blog
Monday, January 2, 2017
Saturday, March 5, 2016
I REMEMBER YOU SO CLEARLY RUTH
When I was a kid, heaven was only a mile and a
half away. It was at my Aunt Ruth’s
house. I liked going there and when I
got old enough, maybe twelve years old, I walked there often.
I remember running down Maywood Street from the
Columbus Park area of the city I lived in, Worcester Massachusetts. By the time I got to Park Avenue, I’d run,
walk, run and walk. I would turn up
Austin Street to my favorite house. By
then I always had my second wind and ran up the long outside stairway to the
second floor.
I knocked at the door with so much
anticipation. The door would finally
open and usually my beautiful Auntie Ruth would be standing there. She always said, “Hi darling, did you walk?” I’d say, “Yes Auntie.” She would take a deep breath and blurt out,
“Oh my god, what a kid.” She always made
me feel so proud of myself.
My Uncle Harold would be standing near-by
smiling. I can see him now in my
mind. He always had a sleeveless tee
shirt on and was so handsome. My cousin
Harold, whom they called, young Harold, was in the service at the time. I hardly ever saw him. My little cousin Joan was always home and so
cute. My cousin Ronnie would always be
in his room listening to his and my favorite singer, Mario Lanza who was a
great tenor. Patsy was always painting
her nails or pondering over her hope chest.
In those days young girls saved things for their future marriages. Patsy was so cool and I idolized her. Aunt Ruth was the heart of the home. She was very good to me and would let me stay
overnight any time I wanted to when I got the O.K. from my parents.
One particular day that I remember crystal
clear was, I had just arrived and called my mother to tell her I got there
O.K.. Aunt Ruth got on the phone to talk. Meanwhile, Patsy interrupted her mother to
ask if I could stay overnight. We
listened for the answer, trying not to giggle.
Auntie asked the big question and the answer was, “Yes.”
Patsy and I dreamed up at least twenty plans
without saying a word. I heard auntie
say, “But Winnie, I just remembered, we are having horse meat for supper
tonight. I don’t think Jean will eat
that.” The laughing and my heart
stopped. Then I heard my aunt say,
“Winnie, I know what I’ll do. I have
enough hamburger, she can have that. I
perked up again, yelping, “Yes, yes, I’ll eat the hamburger.” So the deal was on and I cleaned my plate
that night.
While writing this memory, I can’t help but
re-think the hamburger. I wonder if? –
If? – No. No, of course not.
10.
One day, years later after I had children, I
remember a scene in my mother’s kitchen.
Aunt Ruth gave me a scolding. My
mother was trying to give me gas money to make sure I got home to my family
without running out of gas. I said, “Mom, I don’t need it.” My mother said she would feel much better if
I took it. I came back again with,
“Really mom, I’m all set.”
With that, my aunt walked right up to me, under
my chin. She was so cute and short and
tough. She made me have to use every bit
of strength not to laugh. She was
reaching up and pushing her finger into my chest, holding it there. Did I mention what beautiful nails she had,
that were pointy and hard? She was
invading my personal space, BIG TIME… Finally the words came. Now she was putting her point across by
stabbing with her pointer finger. “Now you listen to me. Your mother wants you to take that money,
now, YOU TAKE IT.” I called out to the
other room where my mother had gone to get the money. “Mom, I’ll take the money.” As I was leaving for the second time, Aunt
Ruth stood on her tippy toes to whisper, “See darling, now she’s happy.”
Years later, my aunt was in a nursing home with
Alzheimer disease. My mother and I
visited her as often as we could. We had
a chance to hug her and kiss her and got a lot of love back. Mom and I always felt so good by the time we
left. We would go to comfort Ruth and we
ended up having the comfort.
One particular evening at the nursing home, I
fed my aunt ice cream. She started
falling asleep so I transferred her to the bed and made her nice and comfy and
warm under her afghan. Her eyes closed,
so I began looking over her head at family pictures on the wall. I happened to look down and Ruth was looking
up at me. It took me by surprise when
she said, “thank you.” I was
dumbfounded. I put my arms deeply around
her and told her how much I loved her.
It was like she didn’t have any sickness at all at that moment.
My aunt is gone now. I will never forget what a caring, generous,
kind, friendly, uplifting and respectful woman she was.
Wherever she went, she crocheted afghans,
mittens, hats, scarves, vests, buntings, booties and sweaters. She made us all something. While she was crocheting, she would teach anyone
who showed interest. She made us all
feel happy for whoever the lucky recipient was of the work she was doing.
No one will ever know that she was the type who
loved us all so much, that she gave each of us, at one time or another, her
last mint, gum, tea bag, piece of cake, pork chop, coffee, egg or aspirin. I would have loved to have seen what would
happen if we said, “no.”
My aunt Ruth is the true meaning of what God
meant when he said, “Love one another as I have loved you.”
FESTIVAL IN THE WIND
November 5, 1972
I poked my head into the family room. “Coffee’s ready dad. How do you want it?” He stood up and strolled to the kitchen with
a big grin on his face. “I’ll get my
own,” he said, as he reached to fetch two cups from the cabinet. I smiled back, but was thinking how mom and I
were usually waiting on him, hand and foot.
I’ll never forget his smug words of wisdom as he turned to me and said,
“Jean, coffee is a personal thing.” I
loved it when he was in a good mood.
Those words have never been forgotten.
We fixed our perfect cups of coffee and went
back into the family room. We sipped and
talked while mom was taking a shower.
When she came out, I promised I was going to try to make bacon and eggs
like hers. My mother was famous to many
people for her great breakfasts. I
realize now, that her success was in her patients. Everyone knows I don’t have any. I’m just like my dad. I have a, “Let me get this job over with
now,” attitude.
I could see that dad was ready for a lazy
day. He had a full pack of camel
cigarettes and the Sunday newspaper on the small table beside his favorite
chair. We call it the “King’s Chair.” None of us, (his family,) ever sat in
it. It was our love law. Community auditions and Charles Kurault would
be coming on television soon. Later on,
my brothers Thomas and James and they’re Family’s would be coming for
dinner. A typical Sunday was already in
progress. I had come early with my three
children that day to help mom with dinner. My daughter Susan was thirteen, Michael eleven
and Jennifer was three. Forty two days
before that, my husband Mike died of a stroke at age forty. The children and I loved going to nana and Pepe’s
house. It was good therapy for all of us.
Suddenly the sound of the wind made us jump to
our feet and look out the window. The
outside chairs were blowing over and the acorns were bouncing off the
cars. We stood gawking with our mouths
open. “Dad, remember the year it snowed
before most people even started raking?”
I glanced at him and got no response from my memory. He was not impressed.
I saw a blank look on his face and he was
uttering baffling words like, “Come with me, I’ll teach you to rake, my
way.” I gasped in hunger and in very
real shock. “But dad, what about
breakfast? What about our perfect
coffee?” I quickly followed him as he
mumbled, “We will have an appetite when we come in.”
He called down the hall where mom was just
coming out of the bathroom. “Winnie, get
my jacket. Jean and I are going out to
rake.” “But Al, are you not going to
have breakfast first?” She was as
surprised as I was. Mom and I passed
each other in the hall darting raised eyebrows.
I grabbed my jacket and followed dad to the door. I tried once more to
be saved with no luck. “I’m hungry mommy and what about my brothers
will be here soon.” She flashed a
pitying smile at me. Dad was bellowing
louder now, “Come on, lets get this job over with.”
The wind grabbed hold of us, almost ripping the
storm door out of the frame as we stepped outside. I held on and forced the door shut behind
me. We each took a rake from under the
back porch. I followed dad to the other
side of the driveway. As we walked, dad
was telling me that when a windy day like this comes along, we should take
advantage of it. Go upwind and rake
toward the street. It was true that with
every sweep of the rake, the leaves twirled and burst into the wind with such a
mighty rush. They blew down the hill and
into the neighbor’s yards too. Dad and I
laughed through the whole job. I was
hoping the neighbors would not call the cops on us. The leaves were going wherever the wind took
them, but out of Dad’s yard. It was
amazing how fast we got the job done with the wind as our partner.
Dad is gone now, but every year about the
beginning of November, on a windy day, I think of him. By this time the leaves are out of
control. I stand at my window meditating
at my leaves with so much depression. As
I fight with my options of raking or not raking, a vision comes to mind. I see dad and myself out there laughing and
raking long hard sweeps of leaves. Each
rake full twirling and spinning into the wind.
I somehow catch the spirit, get my jacket and run out the door. I grab the rake and before I know it, the
raking is done for another year. I
always look up to the heavens and say, “Thank you for the energy dad.”
2 ATWOOD TERRACE
Just before thanksgiving of two thousand eight,
my brother Jimmy, sixty four and myself seventy two, were talking on the
telephone. I haven’t seen him since our
mother died in August of two thousand two.
He lives in Nantucket of Massachusetts and asked if I ever drive by
Mom’s house. “I did a couple times.” I
said, “It is shocking that every tree on the half acre lot was cut down by the
new owners. Jimmy, the sight is
paralyzing. Can you imagine if mom and
dad could see they’re precious grounds now?”
We reminisced about the beautiful little five room home that was nestled
among lots of tall oak trees that caused endless raking in the fall, but so
worth it. He was in awe about the trees
and asked when I could take a few pictures for him. “Tomorrow,” I said with joy. At the same time I will go to my favorite
diner to have my usual bacon, egg and cheese on a Jewish roll I thought. I have been going there for years and have
the same breakfast every time.
I got up early, got ready and went out the door
by ten a.m. I reminisced the whole ride
toward my destination. I didn’t know
which to do first, eat or go to mom and dads. I started thinking about the
trees again and was drawn to go to mom and dad’s first. Maybe I’ll get a glimpse of dad and myself raking,
I fantasized.
As I drove, I remembered a raking lesson dad
gave me once. We were sitting in the den
one morning and it was getting pretty windy.
Acorns were bouncing off the cars and lawn furniture was blowing
over. Dad stood and said, “Come with me
and I’ll teach you to rake my way.” We
grabbed our jackets and I followed him out the door. Right away, as we walked outside, the wind
grabbed hold of us, almost ripping the storm door out of the frame. I held on and forced the door shut behind me.
We each grabbed a rake under the back
porch and I followed dad. As we were
making headway, he called out, “When a windy day comes along, take advantage of
it. Go upwind and rake toward the
street.” With every sweep of our rakes, the leaves twirled and burst into the
wind with a mighty rush. They blew down
the hill and into neighbor’s yards too.
We laughed through the whole job.
I was hoping no-one would call the police. The leaves were going
wherever the wind took them, but out of dads yard. It was amazing how fast we got the job done
with the wind as our partner.
With much thought, I made the decision of which
street I would approach the house of the horseshoe neighborhood. Mom and dad lived right on the curve for
forty four years. I pulled the car up to
the edge of the back yard to take my first picture, so no-one would see me from
windows. I knew everyone. I got out of the car and crossed the street
with my camera. Just as I was all set to
click on my first perfect view, a large dog was quickly approaching me. I was a little nervous, but then saw a man
coming toward me too and decided the jig was up and walked toward him to
explain my presence.
“Oh hi!” I said nervously. “My two brothers and I sold you this
house. My brother Thom lives in Texas
now and Jim lives in Nantucket. Jim just
recently asked me how our house, looked now and if I‘d take a few
pictures. I hope its O.K. with
you?” He was nice and extremely
welcoming. “Did you notice I got rid of
all the trees?” he said. “Remember the
huge double oak in the front? Got rid of
that too.” I was in a stupor and just
offered an agreeable, “smart!” While
making a circle with two fingers, he said, “My raking in the fall now is zero.”
He then blurted out the startling words, “Why
don’t you come on in and see what I’ve done inside.” Stunned and worried about how I would handle
it, I uttered, “Won’t your wife kill you?”
He chuckled, “No, I invite the whole neighborhood in.” I said, “O.K., I’ll shut my car off and get
my purse.” I ran to the car feeling
distraught. I was worried that the minute
I got in the house, I was going to burst out crying because I miss my mom so
much. Next thing I knew, I was walking
in the back door with the owner. I felt
like Dorothy entering Oz. The inside was
truly beautiful.
Nothing was the same and suddenly I became
quite relaxed. I didn’t have a chance to grab a look at where mom used to stand
in the kitchen making bread and pies, or to check out where dad used to sit
watching his favorite shows on T.V. like, Milton Berle or Jackie Gleason. Dad always sat in what we called, “The Kings
Chair.” I didn’t try to see mom coming
down the hall. I was disoriented and my
head was spinning a little. “Were they
with me now, I wondered?”
Where the kitchen table was, is wide open
now. The man pointed out that he tore
that whole wall down for easy access to they’re new dining room, which used to
be the den. He showed me another wall he
tore down in the new dining room and we strolled through it to go into the
living room. While he was telling me of
other work he did, I went deaf for a minute, as I spotted mom’s bedroom
doorway. I could see a delicate gold
cross on the far wall and had the urgency to rush in the room to see for myself
if she was there. The excitement of that
treasured day took a lot out of me.
Later, when I got to the end of my mother’s
street, I realized, it was a couple weeks before thanksgiving. The first thanksgiving after my mother died,
I was making pies and getting depressed because I couldn’t call her for a
certain recipe like I did every year. I
wished then, I could go outside heaven’s gate and sell pies, so I could get one
more look at her. I fantasized, if I
could be selling pies and mom heard about it, she’d want to see if they
measured up to hers and I’d see her sooner.
“I got my wish,” I screamed in my mind. I was with my mother one more time, even if
it was, in spirit. Inflamed with
excitement, I changed my mind about breakfast.
I took a right into traffic, instead of a left, so I could hurry home to
call Jimmy and Tommy. After burning
everyone’s ears off about my day, I knew I’d write a story about it, so I
wouldn’t forget one minute of my phenomenal, mind boggling and unexpected
encounter.
Was that you...
I remember you liked
little old ladies
Well, I’m one now
I hope you like me
You were so young when
you sailed off
But this time,
Not in a sail plane.
I have always felt you
near me
It would be just like
you,
To wait on heaven,
Which you deserve,
So you could help
This
Little old lady
So…
We can go together
someday.
You always were so
romantic.
Is…
It really O.K. with God
Did he say you could
stay
And
Wait for me?
I remember you liked
little old ladies
I think,
I saw you
Last night…..
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