Peach Trees and Aunt Marie

While eating my juicy peach last night, it reminded me of a woman I loved and respected as a child, admired as a teen and honored as an adult as I write about one of my most cherished aunts, my Aunt Marie.  She was a selfless soul, admired and loved by all in our family.  She was the sister to my grandma on mom's side of the family.  A few peach trees were scattered in her side yard, sap running along the bark, and many a dreams have crept into my sleep with visions of her house. Seeing her canning peaches, and ohhhh, did they taste so good.....so sweet, that with each bite you wanted to take yet another and then some more.  Aunt Marie had that grandma-type smile, always busy in the kitchen or around the house, never raising her voice, but sometimes shooting us a look when we misbehaved.  Delightful  memories of parties past....Christmas time and January birthdays.  There was also an ominous feeling lurking about her home.  Perhaps the spirits of her family, our family, a house where generations lived and slept, still hovered about the place.  Either way, I loved spending time there but never alone.  Chrissy and I both agreed it was not a good idea to be in that house alone, but with Aunt Marie's gentle smile there, we were treated like queens and adventure was around every nook and cranny and we felt comfortable.  One of the mysteries that walked in that house was my great uncle, Frank, aka: Toots, an Elmer Fudd looking character, who sort of gave us the willies.  We've heard stories that he was an enlisted man and did work in the post office for a brief time, but we may never know the total truth about that one.  There's many a tale to be told about this man who wore "open toed" shoes, unlike the ones we're familiar with, these shoes had the tops literally cut out, he had a thumb the width of a walnut shell, he chewed tobacco and spit it in the same HiC can for all of my early years spent there.  He also played the game of solitaire at 4:30 every morning, and he talked sort of like the renound character voice of Walter Brennan.   His story is a separate entry on another day, and Chrissy and I used to laugh hysterically at his off the wall behavior.

Never once would you hear our Aunt Marie complain, not even when we trashed her house during Christmas holidays and January birthdays.  She intrigued me when I was young as she appeared as an ordinary thin, elderly nice lady with white, wavy hair which was sort of combed and/or pinned towards the back of her head.  Some of her holiday food traditions was making Rice Krispy Treats, sugared dates and Brach's Chocolate Stars.  I remember sitting on her bed as she applied her makeup simply; yet, it was a face powder in a white and yellow box, that yelled out "mature woman".  She usually had an apron tied around her waiste, except when she was socializing or going to church.  She did her laundry til the day she died with a self-rolling old fashioned washing machine, and she did not dry her clothes in an electric clothes dryer; rather, she hung out her laundry to dry in the outside weathering elements.  Aunt Marie was a woman to be admired; yet, there was so little I really knew about her.  I wish I would have asked more questions, but I was of an age when I was more self-centered, and I suppose I thought she would always be around.  She was a permanent figure in our family whom we thought life's brutal hand would never touch.  She never married, but her true love was a man named Duke.  We all knew it, but it was never really discussed in those days.  I'm sure there's more to that story that we'll never know, but my version is that she chose to care for her brothers, being the devoted sister rather than make a life of her own.  More than that, though, she cared for generations of children, none of them being her own biological children, but she treated them as such.  Chrissy and I were some of the luckiest of that generation who were put in her care for a sleepover or weekend stay.  We loved to explore her old house in Baden that held so many mysteries and stories.  It's ancestry goes way back to a time when it was once was a neighborhood grocery store, a confectionary of sorts, where many of that area purchased their daily foods.  So much to tell and not sure where to begin.

Aunt Marie lived in the city of Baden on a street called Harlen or Canaan.  Not sure which one, but both those of those streets ring a bell.  I'm sure some family lived on both of those streets at some time or other.  The street isn't of importance, but how she lived is, because she was a saint in my book.  Her house was modest but clean and every corner held a story, some heard of and some we'll never know.  Chrissy and I used to spend many a nights at her house, it was such a thrill as she would spoil and give into every one of our whims.  Some weekends we would walk to Mount Carmel Church, where my mom, and many aunts and uncles attended themselves as children.  We walked there because Aunt Marie didn't drive a car.  Perhaps my grandparents and their parents attended that church, too, but I'm not sure.  Those are some of the stories I don't know about, and maybe never will.  Where they attended  school and for how long is anyone's guess.  My grandparent's generation was different as we all know.  Most of them didn't attend high school, but they were lucky to finish through the eigth grade in those days as times were different.  Many of them were needed to work and bring income into their larger families.   I don't know where the aunts fell in age, but I'm guessing Aunt Maria may have been older than the other sisters....and there were other brothers, too, besides Frank (aka:  Toots).  I think there were brothers named Jake and a Mickey.  The only memories I have of Jake are these long fingernails while he was alive and seeing his body laid out at the funeral parlor.  That memory is clear as a bell in my mind because he was probably the first dead person I saw  in a funeral home.  To this day,  I  attending funeral parlors still gives me the willies and at times I can hardly catch my breath when stepping into one of those places.  That was a horrible experience as a little girl, and when my time comes, I will choose a memorial of some kind vs the visitation.  Everyone has their own beliefs and traditions, so a funeral parlor will not be in my plans, probably because of my own experiences with some of the family as well as with my dad.  Mickey was a great uncle whom I never met.  Stories were told of his shady demise that probably only a few know of, and those few have died.  He was found dead on railroad tracks.  Some say it was a train that killed him while others have professed he was beaten to death.  Amazing how some skeletons stay in the closet, secrets we'll never know because they weren't talked about back then.   The other siblings that I know of included my grandma, Lou, and great aunts, Helen and Ann.  There could have been more, but I'm not sure.  All I know is that Aunt Marie overshadowed it all because she was a giving, kind soul who never thought about herself.

To this day, peaches remind me of my lovely Aunt Marie and all of her goodness.  The word "witchkong" often came out of her mouth when she couldn't remember a particular word.  You will not find that word in the dictionary, but it was her very own word, and both Chrissy and I would laugh everytime we heard it.  She met her mortality with the beast.....the beast in my mind is the cancer which was embedded in her throat, but she never let the beast diminish her good nature.  It ravished her body as the beast is capable of doing, but it could never destroy her spirit.  She was a religious woman who adored her maker, one who never smoked, would occasionally have an alcoholic beverage socially, enjoyed her simple life, but she lived with a profound glory.....she too had met the beast.   It was on my birthday back in the mid 80's that I was standing near her casket wishing this didn't happen.  There are no rules or "for sures" in this life.  Life isn't always fair or the way it's supposed to be, but she learned to cope with it, and she made a difference in my life.  She lived completely real, and if I recall, I would like to finish up with one of her infamous quotes.  I don't know when or why I heard her say it, but it has stuck in my mind all these years along with her gentle heart, her warm hugs and her loving ways.

"If you can't say something nice about somebody, don't say anything at all"