Memories of people and events often fade with time. People who have truly impacted your life last the longest. If I close my eyes, I can still hear the voices of my mom and dad as if they were speaking with me today. The voices of several of my aunts, uncles, and grandparents still ring true. My friend, Jim, and cousin, Gene, are locked in too. They are unique, each in their own way.
Each voice as a specific cadence. They can be soft , joyful, gravelly, gruff, lyrical, or sexy. If you are extremely lucky, you don’t have to remember. You can just listen.
Thanksgiving 2012 was the last Thanksgiving that my mom came to our house for dinner. We had a great crew on hand. David and his family joined Ruth and me. Ruth’s sister, Kathy, and her husband, Dan, joined us too. My sister, Sharron, and niece, Susan, drove in from Brown City and picked Mom up on the way. And last, but not least, my cousin, Barbara, and husband, Terry, were our special guests.
My youngest sister, Jackie, was with her daughter, Nina, and her family. As a result she missed The Inquisition of Katherine Tebo.
My mother had an old suitcase that she gave to me years before she passed. The suitcase contains hundreds of mementos of her youth. I still have it. Among its many treasures are dozens of congratulatory cards to her and my dad regarding my birth. She also saved all of the birthday cards from my first birthday. That’s one of the perks of being the first child.
I’ve not taken each piece out to examine but other treasures include: high school and college banners, chalk drawings that she drew in her youth, assorted trinkets, old photos, and most importantly, her collection of post cards. The cards are all hand written and date back to the mid-thirties. The majority were sent during the years of WWII.
I read through the cards just prior to Thanksgiving 2012 and organized several by category. I knew I would be with Mom, so I decided to share them with her. I expected that she would enjoy the journey back in time, and that I might learn something more of her life through the sharing process. I got more than I bargained for.
After dinner, I pulled out the cards and sat down with her to read a few. I had read through them and had questions I wanted to ask. Several of the cards were obvious exchanges covering several weeks of back and forth correspondence between family members and Mom. One series documented a trip to California in the mid-40’s, and another a vacation that my Grandma Barner and Mom’s youngest sibling, my Aunt Millie, took to Lake City, Michigan. There were several fish stories about “the day’s catch” in that exchange.
There were also a couple of random cards that were meant for my Aunt Ruth and Uncle Harry Barner that somehow found a home among Mom’s treasures. But the cards I wanted to discuss most were from guys named Rudy, Doug, Jimmy, John, and Tony. There were several – cards and guys. Tony was the only familiar name among the list of her admirers.
The first card I read from a former suiter was signed by a man named “Rudy”. The card thanked Mom for a “pack of cigs” that he found in his bag when he returned home from a trip. She had placed them in his bag, and the card was his thank you. During our discussion of Rudy, she revealed that “he had a big car” and “he thought he was something”. The clip below picks up where the next guy, Doug, is revealed.
As I began the reading of the cards, Sharron, Susan, and my cousin, Barbara, joined us at the table. Most of the time they just observed, but upon occasion Mom’s response led to additional questions. The inquisition lasted about an hour, and without saying a word, Barbara captured the entire event on her new iPhone.
This Thanksgiving I am thankful for the people in my life who have touched my heart and allowed me to touch theirs. I also want to thank my cousin, Barb, who captured this moment for all of us. It’s a rare opportunity to see, and hear, the recollections of a 91 year old, self-proclaimed, galivant.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iGjUT-vHRCQ&feature=youtu.be
This is precious! We never think of parents having a life before each other and us. And she loved every second of reliving her galavanting times.