Keep talking

Today was the memorial service for my Great Aunt, Helena. Someone once said to me that a person is not truly gone as long as someone remembers them. That philosophy stuck with me. It is part of my enjoyment of scrapbooking. Put the stories down on paper, so that people will understand what's really happening in the pictures.

Above is a picture of Helena and her brother. Only one remains with us (the youngest, Freddie, in the center). This is one of the photos I put into an album, when we found my Aunt's photos of her family.

There were only a few people gathered for the service. I brought the album, and tried to explain to my son and daughter on the way there, that she had been cremated already and what that meant.

It was wonderful to see my father's uncle recognize himself in the photos (he is 92). One or two of his comments told me that I have people identified wrong. The person I thought was his grandpa, he was calling Uncle Earnest fairly consistently. Hmm. So now I plan to visit him and his wife with the book and hope that he can recall enough for me to preserve the correct information.

I wasn't sure I liked the pastor at first, but he seemed to know my Aunt well, and so I actually enjoyed his eulogy. He spoke of how pleasant it was to have a conversation with Helena - she was very talkative, but was a well educated woman, and always reading and keeping informed on current events. Her voice had a melodic quality that made it seem like she was almost singing to you. She never spoke sharply, but she would let you know clearly how she felt about the topic at hand, and she was tenacious. She generally got what she wanted.

I learned that she had many arts & crafts hobbies, which I guess I hadn't recalled from when I was younger. (A-hah! if you know me, that will definitely ring a bell... I'm forever trying new hobbies, collecting supplies, then moving on to the next new obsession)

I knew that she loved to travel, and would pack a bag on a moment's notice to go off on an adventure. (I have slides from her travels around the world. Stay tuned...) It never occured to me that I am like her in that way. I love to go somewhere new, try something different. She exposed me to the ballet for the first time. We didn't have much money when I was growing up, so to go to a performance like that was a pretty big deal for me.

Some of the family members present shared some memories (at the urging of my uncle, who is VERY quick to tell a dirty joke but equally able to pull out a sentimental little speech at the right times).

My father visited her many times during her four years in the nursing home. I never went, because she was very confused at times, did not remember many people, and it would have agitated her. But she remembered my parents since they visited weekly, and the last time my father saw her, he said that her birthday was coming up soon, and she remembered - "Oh! May 31." She didn't know that she was going to be 97, but I can hear in my head how she would have answered the question.

When it was my turn I mentioned "the room" at her house, the front bedroom where she kept her treasures and her art stuff, and how much I had enjoyed sneaking in there when I was a small child attending a family gathering. She would often come up with a little object of some sort for us to bring home. I mentioned one of her paintings which Sue has now, that she will treasure, and the cards Helena always sent us on our birthday. It was pretty much the same every time. A very quaint old style floral picture on the front, and inside a crisp five dollar bill, with a notation "Please buy something you would enjoy with the enclosed ". The cards came on birthdays and at Christmas-time without fail. Sue still has her last card. When I mentioned the notation nearly every head in the room nodded.

Then the fun REALLY started. You know there's one relative in every bunch who's the talker, right? You thought it would be me.

My father's cousin William stood up. Think Jack Nicholson approaching 75*. The same hair, the glasses, the green jacket. As I recall William worked "in radio" for a time. He can talk! He spoke for about 25 minutes. There were tidbits I didn't know, like the fact that Helena got her own home when she was in her 40's, (the house I remember) and previously had lived right next door. That she had gone the day after graduation to apply for the state job she held for so many years. She knew what she wanted, and didn't want to wait.

*how old is Jaaaaaaaack?

William has a habit of speaking with his eyes closed. My son asked me (in the car, thank god) whether he was blind. I said "No, but I always wondered that too when I was your age because I'd see him at a family gathering, he'd sit in a chair the whole time, and speak with his eyes closed")

There were some amusing side tangents he went off on, that bordered on hilarious. One was when he mentioned Helena breaking a hip, and how often that signals the approaching end because of course when a horse breaks a leg they're generally put down, except for that one that just won the Kentucky Derby. Really... he said all of that. Tthere were quiet giggles from the back of the room and a few gentle rebukes. ('William, we have a reservation at the restaurant...")

The he came back around to Helena and how shortly after she broke her hip she had to go into the nursing home. But where he went from there was pretty cool. He spoke of her again as a traveler and mentioned that she was impatient in the nursing home at times, true, but that was because she knew that she was waiting to begin her final journey, that would take her to be with her parents and her other brothers.

Sometimes you just have to listen for the gems.

In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky,
In my heart there will always be a place for you, for all my life,
I'll keep a part of you with me,
And everywhere I am, there you'll be.