"For Show Only"
Remembering an old family feud
My recent NSC column about the moose poop necklace has me thinking about my first year in Alaska and the family I had up there at the time.
My Aunt Marie and Uncle Raymond (the one I wasn't named after) were the ones who took me high-bush blueberry picking in the Goldstream Valley that first year, when I found the materials for my mother's moose poop necklace.
They were the roots of the Arkansas branch of the family (Eureka Springs), who had come to Alaska early and done well in construction. Everybody was working for my cousin Bob Toombs in 1969, when we first got to Alaska.
Anyway, my favorite aunt and uncle were up there, too--my Aunt Doe (short for Doris) and my Uncle Seymour, a Teamster and Navy veteran who used to entertain us kids by wiggling the eagle tattoo on his chest. ("Uncle Seymo--wiggle you eggle!" my brother David used to shout.)
I'll try to stay on topic, but you see how hard that'll be...
For some reason, my two aunts did NOT get along, so when my husband and I were invited over to Aunt Marie's apartment for dinner that first summer, I knew it was going to be a pins-and-needles affair.
Things were all very polite and stiff, with Aunt Marie prattling along, as usual, dominating the conversation and not letting anyone else get a word in edgewise. No wonder Uncle Raymond was so silent. In order to talk with him, we had to persuade someone to distract Aunt Marie, so we could get him aside for a quiet conversation.
Aunt Doe, normally happy and laughing, was a different person in my Aunt Marie's living room. There was obviously something going on here, I thought, but I just took another piece of my aunt's fantastic lemon meringue pie and kept my mouth shut, watching. That woman's cooking made up for a LOT of her short-comings.
Aunt Doe came back from the guest bathroom, rolling her eyes, and giving me a meaningful look, so, of course, I had to make a visit. There, hanging neatly on the wall, were pretty guest towels with a neatly printed sign, saying, "Do not use. For show only."
Oboy, things are gonna get interesting, I thought.
We all sat, holding our breath, as Aunt Marie's precious eldest son (Bob, the Golden One) headed for the bathroom. What would happen next??
To our absolute delight, my cousin burst from the bathroom and said, "Mom, I just want to know--Who is this 'Show,' and why is he so much better than I am???"
"Oh, Bobbie!" Aunt Marie said. "You're so silly!" And she let it go. No one else would have gotten away with it!
Once the evening was over, we escaped to Aunt Doe's house, where we rehashed our visit with much laughter and jollity. More stories were dragged out to fit the occasion, with my husband listening, as all the dirty laundry was aired with abandonment.
My mother and my Aunt Doe were the youngest of eight children, growing up during the Great Depression. My time in Alaska was filled with stories from their childhood, and I began to understand the forces at work behind the hard feelings.
All my aunts and uncles are long gone now, so any bitterness between them is the stuff of memories. I treasure the time we had together in that far distant land of ice and snow, when the short, golden summers were magical and wondrous.
If you want to read the story of the moose poop necklace, you can find it in my blog archives. It may be labeled "Mama was a Jokester."
Comments
- -- Posted by Dexterite1 on Wed, Sep 17, 2014, at 1:56 PM
Respond to this blog
Posting a comment requires free registration:
- If you already have an account, follow this link to login
- Otherwise, follow this link to register