happy samhain, everyone.
one of the things i try to do on samhain is remember my beloved dead. so. here goes.
my grandmother and grandfather on my dad's side. evelyn and stanley. when i remember them together, i remember them sitting in their house on garden in livonia, in the family room in their recliners, one on each side of the step up to the dining room. i saw them the most when we lived in michigan, from when i was four until when i was nearly eight, and i loved them fiercely at that point. we would go over there for dinner sometimes and there would be steak and salad with blue cheese dressing. my grandmother, being not over burdened with cooking skills, would make the salad, and my grandfather would do the rest.
my aunt mimi. her actual name was mildred, and most people called her millie. she lived across the street from my grandparents when i was little, and after my grandmother died, she and my grandfather got married. after that, i called her grandma; not because that's how i thought of her, but because it made her so happy. she was still my aunt mimi, and she always will be, but it was a little thing to me, and a big thing to her. she had a dog named pal who was (i think) a golden retriever or a yellow lab, who she spoiled rotten. abby and i wrote out birthday party invitations for pal one year. we weren't inviting pal to our parties, you understand; pal was inviting other people. we faked his paw print with our thumbs. i still have that invitation; i should scan it in. pal is where the lundsten family phrase "don't mock the dog!" comes from. (my father was very distressed that we were panting back at the dog. i think pal just probably thought we were being friendly, although my dad is right; it didn't come from the besthearted of motives.)
then there's my cousin tina, who would be i think twenty eight this year. she lived out in connecticut. her parents (my aunt and uncle) were working at a restaurant at the time. (he's a chef and she was also working at the restaurant in some capacity.) i think she was twelve when she died. she was crossing the street to catch her school bus and was hit by a car who didn't see her in the dark. she was a wild girl, and was getting set to be a wild teenager. but she'd have settled down, i think. she spoke french fluently (her dad and his parents are french and they speak it at home) but couldn't spell any better in french than she could in english; that being not so well. she had a horse and she gave me a ride on it once. i was so stiff on it that i lost my balance and fell off and pulled her off on top of me.
my aunt jan was my aunt by marriage. she was married to my uncle. she smoked like a chimney and died of lung cancer. she did daycare in her house, and she was good with kids. bob and jan used to have holiday dinners over at their house; whether it was thanksgiving or a memorial day burger burn. i remember the front room full of toys and how they were put away when we came over and the tables would be in the basement and in the front room and the various families would congregate in different rooms to eat. she was a sweet good hearted lady.
my grandpa john died in his sleep after we'd moved him and my grandmother to a seniors highrise. he wasn't my grandfather by blood, but he was married to my grandmother and had been for longer than i'd been alive. he was funny and quick. everyone who knows me knows that i'm not much for word play, but the joy that i do have in it is due to my dad and my grandpa john. he made things in the basement and in the garage. he had coils of telephone wire hanging in the garage and oh it was brightly colored. in the basement, he would glue nuts to a board and eyeballs to the nuts and put on them little signs that said "around here we're all a little nuts!" and make the negative space signs out of balsa wood that said jesus. i'm not a christian, and i haven't been for a long time, but i think i still have my little sign that says jesus because he made it. he altered his car so that it would have a third brakelight in the middle of the back window and it beeped when it backed up. i still start and look around when i hear that particular beeping noise, looking for his car.
go hug someone you love, okay? and spend a minute or two today remembering your beloved dead.
