Relatives

I was visiting another site and a post involved visiting relatives when young.  It brought back some memories.  

We lived in Virginia at the time when the trip to the Grandparents took 12 hours.   Both sets of grandparents lived north of Boston, but near each other.  Well, that's why my parents met.

I loved visiting my dad's parents,  they had a large house and a small farm.  Grampa had a lobster boat, so we were drowned in lobster in many forms when we visited.  There was a tree house in the big apple tree.  We helped pick beans and corn.  Gramma was Amish and made wonderful chicken with dumplings.

She got up early and so did I as a pre-teen and teen and we played rummy until the rest of the family got up.  I helped her make breakfast.  It's partly how I learned to cook.  My Capt Crunch cereal there.  Waffles, pancakes, eggs...

Grmma never gave me any mercy when playing rummy.  I learned to win the hard way.  But the highlight of the evening was when the family sat down to lay "Cinch" (aka Set Back).  If you don't know what that is, it is like cut-throat bridge and Hearts or Spades.

I was allowed into the family game when I was about 13 or 14.  Gramma vouched for me for good Rummy skills.

Its a no-holds-barred game and no one gave mercy.  You declare how many tricks you will take and the highest bidder announces the trump suit.  You toss away all the non-trump cards and fill your hand to 6 -8 cards  from the remaining deck.

Gramma was infamous for saying "oh, I filled"  meaning she had a hand of all trump cards.  She played lethally.  She almost always won.  But it was played in pairs.  I was usually her partner when me visited.  The players were Gramma and Grampa, my uncle, Dad (Mom could never play cards worth a damn) and sometimes an aunt or two.

Dad had his Mom's killer instinct, but his best game was poker.  Gramma and I thought alike and usually won.  It was never kindness to me as a kid.  Like I said, they all played to win; they would beat their kids at Candyland when they could.  It was altogether wonderful.

Every year, we went to a great chinese restaurant. 

And then we had to spend days at Mom's parents.  That was altogether awful.  They were Victorian.  The house was always dim with fake Tiffany lampshades everywhere.  Kids couldn't do anything fun.  You could hardly see anything after sunset.

The house was practically a mausoleum.  Chairs had doilies to protect the fabric.  The most exciting thing was a next door kid who could flip backwards and land on his back.  I mowed the lawn "for fun".  

 Grampa was kind, but very religious.  He once took me on a walk as a child just to get me into a church.  He thought that might change my whole life.  I felt cheated and lied-to.  The high point of our visit was when Grampa would walk us to a candy store.  We couldn't have any actual candy, but a candy bar was allowed.   I always chose a Skybar.  It had 4 different pockets of flavors.

Gramma Mom's cooking was horrid and I learned why Mom couldn't cook either.  Every vegetable had to be boiled to death.  If brocolli wasn't gray, it wasn't cooked enough.  Meat was boiled and if you haven't had a boiled steak, I don't recommend it.  One year, Gramma Mom even bought a watermelon "for us kids" and she cut the heart out for herself because "why would children care"?  

I did and Mom shushed me.

Aren't different grandparents weird?

Old Photo

 My sister sent me the most AWESOME photo yesterday!

I can surely guess that it is from late Spring 1922, and probably where it was taken (Ohio).  I have no certainty who the 2 gentlemen on the left are.  I can guess about the guy on the right.  Why?

Because the baby being held is my Dad!

I'll assume the guy holding my dad is my paternal grandfather.  I'll make a logical guess that the 2 gentlemen on the left are my 2 paternal great-grandfathers.

WOW!

Sort Of Missing Relative

First, just let me say there is a happy outcome; I'm not drama-dredging here. 

But I have an elderly widowed Aunt who never had children and I never heard of any family on the husband's side.  I'm not at my best on the telephone with social talk, so I send homemade cards and the occasional letter.  I never expected replies because she is quite elderly.

So when I wanted to write a new letter to her about my Dad moving to an assisted-living facility, I checked with a family member to see if she already knew about that.  No need to go into great detail about Dad if she already knew, right?

Imagine my shock to be told "Oh I called and the phone was disconnected and she didnt reply to any letters.  She seems to have disappeared a couple of years ago."

What???  I had visions of her lonely and abandoned in some awful nursing home, or even a virtual prisoner in her own home by some dominating caretaker or housemate (I have a vivid imagination, and there HAVE been horrible things in the news).  And who would want to just say "Oh everything is probably fine" and then discover it was not later.

I live hundreds of miles away, and I didn't really know any relative to call (actually, there was one relative I could have called, but I was all upset.

So I googled her address and found a detective agency in the town.  I'm NOT kidding.  They do exist and not just for getting sneaky pictures of people having affairs etc.  I explained that I just wanted to know where she was and how to contact her; no crimes or big inheritances involved, just "out of touch for 2 years and I wanted to make sure she was OK".

They assured me that "they do nice stuff too" and estimated it would take an initial 3 hours work (with a prepayment).  I agreed.  After I hung up the phone, I felt a bit like a sucker.  Sure, they would use up the 3 hours and then need another 3 hours and again and again.

I am happy to say I was wrong.  They visited her listed address, got the name of a relative, who got them to an assisted-living facility.  It turns out that my aunt stopped wearing her medical alert button, fell and broke her hip and laid on the floor for 10 hours until someone found her.

I received an email from the detective agency and a call from one of her nephews explaining the past several years and her "disappearence" (from my POV).  It was an awkward conversation.  I grew up in New England, but I could hardly understand a word he said, so I had to keep asking for repeats (and even spellings a few times).

It turns out that there are numerous family on her deceased husbands side that I never knew about (well they didn't know I existed either) and are close to her (geographically and socially).  They brought her to various assisted-living facilities until she liked one and she is there, healthy and happy (for her age). 

So I am relieved.  I did "The Right Thing" by checking on her.

The nephew says OUR aunt probably doesn't know about my Dad going into assisted living, and MIGHT not even know her sister (my Mom) died in 2010.  So I will write about all that.  And writing to her about Dad was what started all of this.

Now lets see about how I am related to the nephew who called me.  I'm terrible at that stuff.  Beyond immediate cousins, I give up.  My aunt is a sister of my mother.  My aunt was married.  The nephew of my aunt is the son of the sister of my aunt's deceased husband.  So from me, it goes to my mother, to her sister, to HER husband to HIS sister to HER son.  So is that like second cousins, first cousins twice removed, or what?

I am curious but confused.

The important thing is that my aunt is "OK" and getting good care and attention.  And while it wasn't necessary to my aunt's health and well-being I DID something to make sure about it.

I will sleep better tonight