Reflections of a beloved aunt
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Reflections of an Aunt
Reflections of an Aunt
Last Sunday, September 11, 2005, our country was still reeling from the New Orleans flood and the damage caused by this flood. New Orleans was under water and all property was lost. Lives were lost, people were homeless, many were dead - - all destroyed by a hurricane named Katrina--such a delicate name I used with fondness when speaking to my younger sister Kathy as a child.
My thoughts also turned to the 9-11 tragedy of the collapse of the twin towers in 2001 on this same date. However, a new memory will be burned into my brain as well. My cousin Richard (Dickie as I knew him then) called at 6:35 p.m. to tell me his mom, my aunt Opha, passed away at 5:30 p.m. It was difficult to know what to say. She had been very ill for several months, and her mind had recently been clouded with the thief called Alzheimer's. We knew she was better off now, but it's hard to let go....
My memories went back to the days of our routine weekends visits in Hosmer at aunt Opha's and uncle Ishmael's house when I was 3 years old until I was about 9 when my sister was born. I remember loading the model A car "rumble seat" with my doll, my comic books, coloring books and crayons and some clothes for the weekend. Every weekend I can remember my mom, dad and I would go to the "farm" where my dad and his brother and sisters were raised by their parents Henry and Laura Price. Apparently, my grandfather, Henry Price, died way before I came into this world. My dad was only 14 when Grandfather Henry died. After that my grandmother could not pay the property taxes and "lost" the farm. My Uncle Ishmael and aunt Opha bought the farm for the amount of the property taxes and my grandmother lived on with them for a time.
Our visits to the farm were some of my fondest memories of my aunt's hospitality. She always made the best meals on Sunday. I can always remember her dressed for church and wearing her white apron getting the Sunday dinner prepared along with the help of my mom and grandmother. I can remember the mouth watering aromas of frying chicken, pies baking in the oven, home made dinner rolls and corn on the cob wafting through the house. The farmhouse had no air conditioning and the windows and the doors were open during the spring visits and summer visits. In winter it was way too cold to open windows and doors. The men would sit around the pot bellied stove keeping warm in the dining room while the women cooked, talked and laughed about things they had heard or seen during the week and memories gone by, while they stirred up some of the most unforgettable home cooked meals this side of heaven.
The men were always served first and then they left the table to gather round the radio to listen to baseball or the news while the women and children ate last. Once everyone was finished eating, the women cleaned off the table and washed the dishes. Forget dishwashers and running water, there were no modern appliances or running water, but houses were cleaner then than they are now and no one let the dishes sit until the food dried on them.
For me, everything felt safe. At night I would lie in my mothers lap until the voices of the adults became a drone as I drifted off to sleep. Aunt Opha didn't talk much but my grandmother and my mom made up for it. We loved to go there for our weekly visits. Family, it meant so much!
Outside in the yard was my favorite place to be where the hickory nut trees gave up their treasures from their branches in the fall. I picked up hickory nuts with my skirt turned up like a basket until the seams of my skirt would nearly split,and then I poured my gatherings in a box in the canning cellar (I still remember those wonderful smells of hickory nuts in the cellar), and later these treats would end up in Christmas cakes we ate during during our winter visits. Aunt Lena and her family; aunt Dot and her family would all gather at the house - - my first real taste of family gatherings. I think this is where I got the idea I wanted to live in a big old Italian family and cook spaghetti sauce together and have our children grow up as a close and loving family sharing our homes, our food, our children and our love for each other. I married into the Templin family with 16 kids and and even larger extended family hoping for this very environment, but sadly we see one another about twice a year if that much.
In the spring and summer months in Hosmer, Indiana, my Aunt Opha always grew a garden. We picked fresh red ripe tomatoes straight from the vines in the garden and poured salt on them from the big salt shaker and ate to our heart's content. Canned vegetables were served with our meals - - real canned vegetables, not store bought - - what a difference between the taste of the two. I wish I had learned the knack of gardening and canning from my aunt Opha. She had a real talent she must have learned from my grandmother Laura.
My aunt loved her church and I attended with her on some of the Sundays and though I didn't understand much I knew my aunt loved it and it must be a good thing to attend church and sing hymns from a book, and bow your head for prayer. She was devout in her faith and it never wavered. She loved her home, her family and her community - - a good woman who loved the simple life.
There were always plenty of puppies in the country. My Uncle Ishmael loved to bird hunt and bird dogs were an essential part of the hunt. Dickie and Bruce (his cousin) went hunting early in the mornings in the fall with Uncle Ishmael. They always came back with birds and the dogs looked victorious as though they knew they had done their job and a good one at that!
Dickie had comic books I always thought he might want to trade but my comic books were Little Lulu, Donald Duck and Archie. He was too old and sophisticated to read my comic books, but I think he would read them when I went to bed. I enjoyed reading or looking at the pictures of superman, the cowboys, and Dick Tracy. I bet those old comic books would be worth something today.
Aunt Opha showered us with hospitality. She never looked like "Oh no, here they come again". She always hugged us and seemed to enjoy her family coming home. Now she has gone home and we'll join her again someday. I know she is enjoying her family who has gone on before her. Shhh, I think I hear laughter from familiar voices from the past.
Reflections of an Aunt
Reflections of an Aunt
Last Sunday, September 11, 2005, our country was still reeling from the New Orleans flood and the damage caused by this flood. New Orleans was under water and all property was lost. Lives were lost, people were homeless, many were dead - - all destroyed by a hurricane named Katrina--such a delicate name I used with fondness when speaking to my younger sister Kathy as a child.
My thoughts also turned to the 9-11 tragedy of the collapse of the twin towers in 2001 on this same date. However, a new memory will be burned into my brain as well. My cousin Richard (Dickie as I knew him then) called at 6:35 p.m. to tell me his mom, my aunt Opha, passed away at 5:30 p.m. It was difficult to know what to say. She had been very ill for several months, and her mind had recently been clouded with the thief called Alzheimer's. We knew she was better off now, but it's hard to let go....
My memories went back to the days of our routine weekends visits in Hosmer at aunt Opha's and uncle Ishmael's house when I was 3 years old until I was about 9 when my sister was born. I remember loading the model A car "rumble seat" with my doll, my comic books, coloring books and crayons and some clothes for the weekend. Every weekend I can remember my mom, dad and I would go to the "farm" where my dad and his brother and sisters were raised by their parents Henry and Laura Price. Apparently, my grandfather, Henry Price, died way before I came into this world. My dad was only 14 when Grandfather Henry died. After that my grandmother could not pay the property taxes and "lost" the farm. My Uncle Ishmael and aunt Opha bought the farm for the amount of the property taxes and my grandmother lived on with them for a time.
Our visits to the farm were some of my fondest memories of my aunt's hospitality. She always made the best meals on Sunday. I can always remember her dressed for church and wearing her white apron getting the Sunday dinner prepared along with the help of my mom and grandmother. I can remember the mouth watering aromas of frying chicken, pies baking in the oven, home made dinner rolls and corn on the cob wafting through the house. The farmhouse had no air conditioning and the windows and the doors were open during the spring visits and summer visits. In winter it was way too cold to open windows and doors. The men would sit around the pot bellied stove keeping warm in the dining room while the women cooked, talked and laughed about things they had heard or seen during the week and memories gone by, while they stirred up some of the most unforgettable home cooked meals this side of heaven.
The men were always served first and then they left the table to gather round the radio to listen to baseball or the news while the women and children ate last. Once everyone was finished eating, the women cleaned off the table and washed the dishes. Forget dishwashers and running water, there were no modern appliances or running water, but houses were cleaner then than they are now and no one let the dishes sit until the food dried on them.
For me, everything felt safe. At night I would lie in my mothers lap until the voices of the adults became a drone as I drifted off to sleep. Aunt Opha didn't talk much but my grandmother and my mom made up for it. We loved to go there for our weekly visits. Family, it meant so much!
Outside in the yard was my favorite place to be where the hickory nut trees gave up their treasures from their branches in the fall. I picked up hickory nuts with my skirt turned up like a basket until the seams of my skirt would nearly split,and then I poured my gatherings in a box in the canning cellar (I still remember those wonderful smells of hickory nuts in the cellar), and later these treats would end up in Christmas cakes we ate during during our winter visits. Aunt Lena and her family; aunt Dot and her family would all gather at the house - - my first real taste of family gatherings. I think this is where I got the idea I wanted to live in a big old Italian family and cook spaghetti sauce together and have our children grow up as a close and loving family sharing our homes, our food, our children and our love for each other. I married into the Templin family with 16 kids and and even larger extended family hoping for this very environment, but sadly we see one another about twice a year if that much.
In the spring and summer months in Hosmer, Indiana, my Aunt Opha always grew a garden. We picked fresh red ripe tomatoes straight from the vines in the garden and poured salt on them from the big salt shaker and ate to our heart's content. Canned vegetables were served with our meals - - real canned vegetables, not store bought - - what a difference between the taste of the two. I wish I had learned the knack of gardening and canning from my aunt Opha. She had a real talent she must have learned from my grandmother Laura.
My aunt loved her church and I attended with her on some of the Sundays and though I didn't understand much I knew my aunt loved it and it must be a good thing to attend church and sing hymns from a book, and bow your head for prayer. She was devout in her faith and it never wavered. She loved her home, her family and her community - - a good woman who loved the simple life.
There were always plenty of puppies in the country. My Uncle Ishmael loved to bird hunt and bird dogs were an essential part of the hunt. Dickie and Bruce (his cousin) went hunting early in the mornings in the fall with Uncle Ishmael. They always came back with birds and the dogs looked victorious as though they knew they had done their job and a good one at that!
Dickie had comic books I always thought he might want to trade but my comic books were Little Lulu, Donald Duck and Archie. He was too old and sophisticated to read my comic books, but I think he would read them when I went to bed. I enjoyed reading or looking at the pictures of superman, the cowboys, and Dick Tracy. I bet those old comic books would be worth something today.
Aunt Opha showered us with hospitality. She never looked like "Oh no, here they come again". She always hugged us and seemed to enjoy her family coming home. Now she has gone home and we'll join her again someday. I know she is enjoying her family who has gone on before her. Shhh, I think I hear laughter from familiar voices from the past.
posted by Sasebone at
10:24 AM
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