A Cappella

When Maddie-the-Great was born, she had four living grandparents....Ratchlet's parents (Mikey and I) and T.A.'s parents, (Linda and Don D.).  That's not so unusual these days when people are living longer.  What is more unusual is that M-t-G also had four living great-grandmothers!  No great-grandfathers were still alive, in fact all four of them had been gone for quite some time, but all four of her great-grandmothers were still with us. 

M-t-G had the good fortune to actually know three of the four. 

My mom (Great Grandma J.) was the one in poorest health, as she had had several strokes and was not able to get around on her own, but she was still mentally present and remained so until the last few months of her life.  We had taken M-t-G to visit her in Phoenix when she was about six months old.  Obviously the visit made no impression on Maddie, as of course, she doesn't remember it.  But my mom remembered it and we have photos of them together.  Mom died at age 83 when M-t-G was about 3 years old.  I am very grateful that we were able to bring them together at least for a little bit.

Mikey's mom (Great Grandma D.) was the oldest and the only one M-t-G never "met."  She spent the last several years of her life living with one of her daughters in the Chicago area.  She was in pretty good shape physically, still mobile, and functional, but her short-term memory deteriorated steadily to the end when she no longer recognized her family.  I'm not at all sure if she was ever aware of Maddie's existence.  She was 99 when she died when M-t-G was about 7.  G.G.D. was the only one who had more than one great grandchild.

Linda D's mom, was in reasonably good health both mentally and physically.  Ratchlet and T.A. took M-t-G to visit her in Pennsylvania when she was about 8.  Great Grandma M. died about two years ago and I believe she was in her early 90s.  It was very fortunate that visit to Pennsylvania took place, because G.G.M. died not too long afterward.

Don D's mom, was the delightful Great Grandma May.  She was the great-grandma M-t-G knew the best.  She was in great health, mentally alert, physically active, and lived independently until just recently,  She traveled frequently (and alone!), she married her 2nd husband in her late 80s, and was a sweet, funny woman, who lived her life her way.  M-t-G had seen her many times over the years.  Sadly, she died on Saturday at the age of 93. 

So all four of these great-grandmothers are gone now.  They are missed every day.   It is such a shame that M-t-G didn't have the opportunity to know them all better.  They were remarkable women who lived through hard times when they were young....the Depression, WWII....yet they married happily (mostly, I guess), raised multiple children (among them they produced nearly20 children), managed their homes, were widowed, and lived independently for many years.  They considered themselves mothers and housewives and they succeeded at both.  They loved their families wholeheartedly and were well-loved in return.  They were the glue that held our families together

These women, and all the other millions of women like them, are the backbone of our civilization. They are nurturers, caregivers, pillars of strength, and an example to all the women who follow.   They are daughters, mothers, wives, grandmothers, and great grandmothers.  They gave us the best they had, they gave us everything.  They put us before themselves over and over and over again.    How could we ever thank them enough?

Without them, there would be no M-t-G, or any of us for that matter.  Through them the cycle goes round and passes on to the next generation and so on and on.  It's called LIFE and we, your children and grandchildren, and great grandchildren, thank you for giving us ours.  You were the best!

And so, Mom, Mrs. D, Mrs. M., and now Great Grandma May, we love you and we will miss you forever.  May you all Rest in Peace.

"It Ain't Necessarily So"

Memory is a funny thing.  I have memories of times and events in my life that go all the way back to right around my fourth birthday.  At age 4 I had my first encounter with a dog....a BIG dog, a VERY big dog.  I wasn't hurt (all the poor dog did was lick my face), but it took me years to get over it.  I remember it as clear as a bell.

There are other memories that I thought I would never forget.  Friends, dreams, information, frights, boys, dates, shows, family, arguments, hurts, joys, even certain clothes that I owned....all manner of things that were so important at the time, but now are mere shadows lurking in my mind somewhere.  No longer fully formed or complete, it is often actually the memory of a memory that stays with me.  (Does that make any sense at all?)  It is sort of like a collection of thoughts that prove to me that I actually had a life that had good days and bad days.

Some of those memories have photographic "proof" that can help keep a memory close to reality, but most don't.  I can remember songs I learned in grade school and the Children's Choir at church when I was only 8 years old.  There are other songs that I learned much more recently for various shows and performances that I am unable to recall at all, not the melody, not the words, nothing.  Some I don't even remember singing.  That astounds me.

What makes one memory remain vivid while another completely disappears without a trace?  I don't think it is a conscious process in either case.  My psyche (or whatever) chooses what to keep and what to discard without any input from me.

Still there are some memories that I was convinced were rock solid truth as told to me by my parents, the ultimate guardians of reality for a child growing up.  For instance, my mother was the middle child of her family.  Even though there had been 11 children, the order of their birth was a simple matter of fact:  Tom, Germaine, Helen, Pinkie, Mary, Mom, Annie, Mutz, Norb, Gerard, and Joe.  Easy peasy, right?  Until recently that is.  When Norb died I wrote something about him being Mom's favorite brother and I mentioned his birth order between Mutz and Jerry. 

"Au contraire, Sister-mine!", piped up Little Sis.  "Huh?" I responded intelligently.  "You are wrong, Big Sis.  The order was Mom, Norb, Annie, Mutz, Jerry, and Joe."   "No, I can't be wrong, I remember Mom talking about it!"  "Well, you remember it wrong!", said Little Sis.

Hmmmpf.  Turns out she was right, I did remember it wrong.  Now I had believed that for a LONG time, but I was wrong.  Wow!  If I can't trust my own memories, what can I trust???
My Little Sis also disagreed with me on a memory relating to my Dad's Dad.  I remember being told that my Grandfather and his brother came to this country from Denmark together as young men, just the two of them to make their way in America.

"Au Contraire, Sister-Mine."  Little Sis was at it again!  According to her it was our grandfather and HIS uncle (or something like that.)  Now wait just a minute here.  I am a lot older than Little Sis and I'm sure that the story had been repeated to me several times before she was even born!!  How could the memory be wrong?  Although Mom told me the story, I am certain she would have told me the right story!  And I am 99% sure she told me it was my Grandfather and his BROTHER (which made him my Dad's uncle, not my Grandfather's Uncle!)

Of course, now there is no one to ask.  My grandfather, his brother (or uncle), my dad, my mom, all the rest of dad's relatives are gone.  We have no written history of my Dad's family at all.  Either I'm right or Little Sis is right....but I guess we'll never know for sure. 

There are other lesser memories that have been proven to be unreliable.  That is so disconcerting.  I have never had problems with memory.  It saved my butt a million times in school and at work.  Plus over the years, I have memorized pages and pages of dialogue for a multitude of characters for the theater.  But it appears that when it comes to memories of my own life and family, just because I remember something, doesn't mean anything for sure.  I guess I just have to accept the possibility that "It Ain't Necessarily So!"  Cripes!

"Lovely to Look At" (continued)

Yesterday I wrote about McKee Jungle Garden and all of its quirky-ness.  You might wonder why and how I knew so much about one of Florida's old-time attractions.  We lived in Vero Beach, the home of the Garden and for a few years (I'm not sure how long anymore), my grandparents lived there too and worked for McKee's. 

Gram worked with Dr. David Fairburn (the man in charge at the time).  She worked in the Orchid House.  She helped with all aspects of the orchids....planting and transplanting, pruning, making cuttings, and making orchid corsages that were sold in the Gift Shop and other places. 

Gramps was sort of a general-all-around-something.  I'm not sure I ever knew what his title really was.  He made rounds through the Garden at closing time and then again during the night.  He was a greeter, and ticket seller sometimes, he took care of the parrots, and he occasionally gave tours.  He was a little bit of everything.

There was a small house on the grounds, in the non-public areas, that went with the job and that's where they lived.  It was the perfect arrangement for an older couple.  I remember spending many Saturdays and Sunday visiting Gram and Gramps, often overnights. 

The Gardens closed at 5:00 p.m.  It wasn't set up for nighttime activity.  But at 5:00 p.m. there is still lots of light left in the summer....and that is when I took over!!

The Gardens became my own "estate".  I pretty much had free rein, the only places I could not go were the  alligators' enclosure and the undeveloped areas of the property.  I could be Guinivere and the Gardens were Camelot!  I could be Juliet and know that Romeo was fighting through the jungle to get to me....nevermind that I was pretty sketchy on the rest of the story, I made up my own.  Tarzan and Jane....Admiral Byrd discovering whichever pole he found....my imagination was up to the challenge.  I went all over the world in my Garden!!

I was never bored!  I could pound away on the huge drums Sexton brought back from Africa.  I could pretend to cook in the outdoor Spanish Kitchen.  I must have gotten "married" in the Royal Palm Grove a gazillion times.  I explored the Gardens from up and down and backward and forward and I ended up knowing it like the back of my hand.

During the hours that the park was open, I still spent a lot of time playing there, but I was a whole lot less visible!  Looking back on those days, I'm pretty sure that Dr. Fairburn and the rest of the staff knew I had made myself at home.  Evidently, however, I was so well behaved that they just accepted that I was there a lot!

I would walk with Gramps on his walkthrough at closing time.  We had some great conversations.  Other times I would sit with Gram in the Orchid House while she worked with the plants.  I'm sure I pretty much talked her ear off, but when I was getting too restless she would send me out to play in this wonderful fantasy land! 

I suppose I didn't really go out to the Gardens as often and I think I did, but it doesn't matter.  My memories of that time and place  live in a special place in my heart and always will.  

After we had all moved away, and I was grown up, and married, we took Ratchlet on vacation with us when she was about 4 (that was in 1970, before the Gardens were sold and nearly abandoned.)  We of course, visited McKee's.  Ratchlet and the Big Guy both enjoyed it, but I was  back in my own private daydream, which can never be taken away. 

I haven't been back to the Garden since it re-opened in its 2nd life.  But I will one day!

It was truly a wonderful, magical place and to a small 9-10 year old girl, it was a whole lot more than just "Lovely to Look At!"