Uncle Bob
Uncle Bob was Dad's oldest brother. I'm the oldest child born to their generation. Dad and Mom married before Dad went off to War. Uncle Bob and the other brothers didn't marry till after World War ll. I remember those early Christmases when the family would gather at the Grandparents farm on Christmas Eve. Each year there were new cousins, new babies, to fuss over. And Dad and his brothers would share stories. There were times I had a hard time deciding whether to stay and listen to Dad and the Uncles or to play with the growing number of cousins. It was a time of totally belonging and all was good in my world.
I don't know what year Uncle Bob first brought Virginia home. I was 5 or 6, because we were living in Ohio again. I still remember my first sight of her. She was coming down the stairs. The open kind, where first you see feet and legs and each step brings more into view. In full view, Virginia was beautiful. Bob had had girl friends before. Lots of them. Mom teased him because there was a cigar box of Diamond Rings he kept when he would change his mind. He didn't change is mind this time. The oldest brother was the last to be married. They didn't live in Ohio either. Which made Bob's visits seem special. He represented the Angus Association and his job involved traveling, so sometimes Virginia was with him and sometimes he popped in unexpectdly. I loved the surprise visits because he would come to our school and take the three of us (or just J and I, before S started school) with him to suprise everyone. He couldn't stay long on those visits, but they were magical. Uncle Bob spoiled us. Taking us out of school, making sure we were always there during his visits. One Christmas he drove in and then went to the local county airport to pick up Virginia and baby Philana. I felt so special because he took me along. The other cousins weren't born yet or were infants. Bob and Virginia must have married in 1950 or 1951. Their first daughter was born in 1952. The second in 1953. And we lost Uncle Bob in 1957. When I was almost 12.
Just a few Christmases when the family was whole, and I didn't know what death was. Later I realized even those years weren't perfect though. Uncle Bob had married a Catholic. I didn't understand what that meant or why it caused the adults to whisper and why they stopped talking when they realized I was listening. It was a long time later that I realized my perfect family could talk against prejudice, but they (especially the Grandparents) had a Religious Prejudice. The beautiful Virginia must have felt uncomfortable during those holiday gatherings. Not that anyone was rude or hateful, just the undercurrent of wishing Bob had married "within his faith." I never saw or heard anyone misbehave toward Virginia. But, at the time I was pretty young and hadn't yet put it together.
When Uncle Bob was diagnosed with Cancer, it all came tumbling down. The last two years of his life were spent on the farm with his parents. Virginia took the two little girls home with her, and Uncle Bob missed them terribly. And, my family no longer hid their feelings or words around me. They were very angry with Virginia for keeping Bob's girls away while he was so sick. I spent a lot of time with Bob during that time. I knew he was sick. But, no one ever said the word Cancer, or told me he was dying. Grandmother couldn't handle all of his care, and once again Mom's nurses training was needed. So, we were at the farm regularly. Mom made it possible for Bob to die at his parents home and not in a hospital.
I can remember exactly when I realized how sick he was. I was 11. He was still able to walk a bit, but he was very weak. He asked me to walk to the barn with him so he could see the cattle. It was a long slow trip and I talked all the way, sometimes walking backwards to face him. He was responding enought to keep me talking, though I could see it winded him. He looked at the cattle in the barn, then rested a bit before starting back to the house. When we got back to the kitchen, Grandmom said, "Bob, where is your shoe?" I looked down and he only had one shoe on. Grandmom sent me to retrace our steps and find his shoe. It was in the driveway near the barn. I had the walk back to the house to realize he had walked on the gravel driveway and didn't even feel his shoe was gone. Then I knew, that this was bad. I returned the shoe to the house and then I ran outside and hid. Mom found me later, still sobbing. She sat on the ground beside me and talked. She answered all my questions. Then she told me it was time to grow up a bit, because my Uncle Bob was upset and worried because he knew he'd upset me. I had to go see him and assure him I was ok. And, that meant no tears in front of him. We went back in and talked as if nothing had happened. He asked me to make him some Spice Cupcakes with Burnt Sugar Frosting. Not chocolate or anything common. I'd make these same cupcakes for him before. He told me it was his favorite and no one could make them as well as I did. That was my Uncle Bob. Dying of Cancer and he wanted to make me feel special. I don't believe he was even well enough to eat them.
It wasn't long after that, that he became totally bedridden. He and Mom decided they didn't want me to remember him like that, and I wasn't allowed to see him anymore. That hurt, but it was probably the right decision. He died the month before my 12th birthday.
At first, Virginia tried to keep in touch, so the family could see Bob's girls. The youngest even lived with us for awhile. Bob died in March and Jackie was with us most of that summer. Mom even had the idea that we would be allowed to adopt Jackie. I don't know why, but she told everyone Jackie was my new sister. I remember one of the metal, wheeled, three shelf kitchen carts. It was yellow and Jackie was small enough to sit on the bottom shelf where she loved to be pushed all over the house. I took it to my first apartment with me, and it still had the dent on the bottom shelf where Jackie sat. Then one day, out of the blue, Virginia showed up at our farm in a Taxi and took Jackie. Mom cried for days. And, the whispers said it was because Virginia realized we were taking Jackie to the Methodist Church with us. So the bitterness grew. All too soon the girls disappeared from our lives.
So many wasted years. Philana and Jackie grew up believing the family didn't want them. And, all because of Religious Prejudice. The Grandparents are gone. My Parents are gone. Virginia and Bob are gone. But, finally, the girls found us again. Two of the Uncles are alive and all but one cousin. Jackie called Uncle D around Christmas time a few years ago. He still says it was the best Christmas gift he ever got. Too many deaths and too many years and too many miles still seperate us. But, I hope and pray both girls know they have a family who missed them and Religion should never have been more important then family.
In fairness, I was a child. I could have it all wrong. I don't KNOW what the adults were always saying. I don't KNOW how Virginia was treated. I don't KNOW how she felt when Bob was diagnosed with Cancer. Or that she could have ever given Jackie to us. These are all just the impressions of a young girl who's world was turned upside down when a deeply loved Uncle died of Cancer. The way I remember it.
I don't know what year Uncle Bob first brought Virginia home. I was 5 or 6, because we were living in Ohio again. I still remember my first sight of her. She was coming down the stairs. The open kind, where first you see feet and legs and each step brings more into view. In full view, Virginia was beautiful. Bob had had girl friends before. Lots of them. Mom teased him because there was a cigar box of Diamond Rings he kept when he would change his mind. He didn't change is mind this time. The oldest brother was the last to be married. They didn't live in Ohio either. Which made Bob's visits seem special. He represented the Angus Association and his job involved traveling, so sometimes Virginia was with him and sometimes he popped in unexpectdly. I loved the surprise visits because he would come to our school and take the three of us (or just J and I, before S started school) with him to suprise everyone. He couldn't stay long on those visits, but they were magical. Uncle Bob spoiled us. Taking us out of school, making sure we were always there during his visits. One Christmas he drove in and then went to the local county airport to pick up Virginia and baby Philana. I felt so special because he took me along. The other cousins weren't born yet or were infants. Bob and Virginia must have married in 1950 or 1951. Their first daughter was born in 1952. The second in 1953. And we lost Uncle Bob in 1957. When I was almost 12.
Just a few Christmases when the family was whole, and I didn't know what death was. Later I realized even those years weren't perfect though. Uncle Bob had married a Catholic. I didn't understand what that meant or why it caused the adults to whisper and why they stopped talking when they realized I was listening. It was a long time later that I realized my perfect family could talk against prejudice, but they (especially the Grandparents) had a Religious Prejudice. The beautiful Virginia must have felt uncomfortable during those holiday gatherings. Not that anyone was rude or hateful, just the undercurrent of wishing Bob had married "within his faith." I never saw or heard anyone misbehave toward Virginia. But, at the time I was pretty young and hadn't yet put it together.
When Uncle Bob was diagnosed with Cancer, it all came tumbling down. The last two years of his life were spent on the farm with his parents. Virginia took the two little girls home with her, and Uncle Bob missed them terribly. And, my family no longer hid their feelings or words around me. They were very angry with Virginia for keeping Bob's girls away while he was so sick. I spent a lot of time with Bob during that time. I knew he was sick. But, no one ever said the word Cancer, or told me he was dying. Grandmother couldn't handle all of his care, and once again Mom's nurses training was needed. So, we were at the farm regularly. Mom made it possible for Bob to die at his parents home and not in a hospital.
I can remember exactly when I realized how sick he was. I was 11. He was still able to walk a bit, but he was very weak. He asked me to walk to the barn with him so he could see the cattle. It was a long slow trip and I talked all the way, sometimes walking backwards to face him. He was responding enought to keep me talking, though I could see it winded him. He looked at the cattle in the barn, then rested a bit before starting back to the house. When we got back to the kitchen, Grandmom said, "Bob, where is your shoe?" I looked down and he only had one shoe on. Grandmom sent me to retrace our steps and find his shoe. It was in the driveway near the barn. I had the walk back to the house to realize he had walked on the gravel driveway and didn't even feel his shoe was gone. Then I knew, that this was bad. I returned the shoe to the house and then I ran outside and hid. Mom found me later, still sobbing. She sat on the ground beside me and talked. She answered all my questions. Then she told me it was time to grow up a bit, because my Uncle Bob was upset and worried because he knew he'd upset me. I had to go see him and assure him I was ok. And, that meant no tears in front of him. We went back in and talked as if nothing had happened. He asked me to make him some Spice Cupcakes with Burnt Sugar Frosting. Not chocolate or anything common. I'd make these same cupcakes for him before. He told me it was his favorite and no one could make them as well as I did. That was my Uncle Bob. Dying of Cancer and he wanted to make me feel special. I don't believe he was even well enough to eat them.
It wasn't long after that, that he became totally bedridden. He and Mom decided they didn't want me to remember him like that, and I wasn't allowed to see him anymore. That hurt, but it was probably the right decision. He died the month before my 12th birthday.
At first, Virginia tried to keep in touch, so the family could see Bob's girls. The youngest even lived with us for awhile. Bob died in March and Jackie was with us most of that summer. Mom even had the idea that we would be allowed to adopt Jackie. I don't know why, but she told everyone Jackie was my new sister. I remember one of the metal, wheeled, three shelf kitchen carts. It was yellow and Jackie was small enough to sit on the bottom shelf where she loved to be pushed all over the house. I took it to my first apartment with me, and it still had the dent on the bottom shelf where Jackie sat. Then one day, out of the blue, Virginia showed up at our farm in a Taxi and took Jackie. Mom cried for days. And, the whispers said it was because Virginia realized we were taking Jackie to the Methodist Church with us. So the bitterness grew. All too soon the girls disappeared from our lives.
So many wasted years. Philana and Jackie grew up believing the family didn't want them. And, all because of Religious Prejudice. The Grandparents are gone. My Parents are gone. Virginia and Bob are gone. But, finally, the girls found us again. Two of the Uncles are alive and all but one cousin. Jackie called Uncle D around Christmas time a few years ago. He still says it was the best Christmas gift he ever got. Too many deaths and too many years and too many miles still seperate us. But, I hope and pray both girls know they have a family who missed them and Religion should never have been more important then family.
In fairness, I was a child. I could have it all wrong. I don't KNOW what the adults were always saying. I don't KNOW how Virginia was treated. I don't KNOW how she felt when Bob was diagnosed with Cancer. Or that she could have ever given Jackie to us. These are all just the impressions of a young girl who's world was turned upside down when a deeply loved Uncle died of Cancer. The way I remember it.
posted by LeeAnn | 3:08 PM
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