Ghosts of my Past

The other day I happened to read a blog of a friend of mine. She was reminiscing about her grandmother. It was such a beautiful tribute to a wonderful woman and I felt as if I had known her or that she might have been a kindred spirit.
Of course, that also got me thinking about my own grandmothers and my relationships with them. My mother's mother lived in the state of Washington in Tacoma. My father's mother lived in Utah in a small farming town named Wellington. I lived in Utah too and so I came to know my paternal grandmother the best, but this story is not about them, but rather about their siblings and the siblings of my grandfathers.
On my maternal grandfather's side, I am not sure I met any of his siblings, save one, and that is a very distant memory. He died when I was young of cancer and my mother wrote a poem upon his death.
My father's parents had many siblings. My grandfather's house was across the street from his youngest brother's farm and I remember playing in the hay there and having a crush on one of their boys. They'd had a daughter and then one day as Uncle Phil was working in the fields, He was struck by lightning and they could not have any more children and so they adopted two young Native Americans. Uncle Phil had a raw milk dairy and he kept a very tidy farm, just like my grandfather.
Grandpa's oldest sister lived in Salt Lake City, not very far from our house and we would visit with her occassionally and eat supper over there. Aunt Ida was a very petite woman and her husband was a very jolly individual. I just loved Unlce Garrett. He was so much fun to be around. Their home was always imaculate, but always felt warm and inviting.
Lehi was where another one of Grandpa's brothers setttled. Homer and Sylmer lived just off the freeway there in Lehi. I can still picture their home and visiting with them and their son who lived next door whenever we would decide to go hike Mt. Timp. I also remember how touched I was when they came to my wedding. It meant so much to me to have them there. Their son still lives in the same house and his son now lives where Uncle Homer lived. It is so awesome to see that some things remain in the family.
Grandpa's brother June lived back east in D.C. and I don't know if I ever did meet him, he passed aways when I was very young, but I never heard anything but good ever spoken of him. Aunt Irene and Aunt Alta I would see at reunions, but I did not know them as well as I did the ones I have mentioned already, but I do remember that they were always interested in me and they always had a kind word to say. I remember them as being very upright and steadfast and firm in their beliefs and convictions.
Now for my father's mother's siblings. They were quite a crew. There were 13 of them, including grandma, and some of her siblings had children who were the same age as she was. I remember Aunt Emma, Aunt Gail, Aunt Arbor, Uncle Bob, and Aunt Rae.
Aunt Emma always scared me. Maybe because she was old enough to have been my grandmother's mother, but she seemed ancient and scary when I was 10 years old. I remember she came to visit us and corrected how I was folding clothes. I needed correctly, I will admit, but I was not going to let some old lady tell me how to do things. Of course, when she brought my mother into it, I was very obedient and to this day I remember her correction and I acknowledge that she was right and I was being a little brat.
Aunt Gail seemed rather frail to me and I had a hard time telling Aunt Emma and Aunt Gail apart. Chalk it up to being ten and all old people look the same.
Uncle Bob was funny. He was always full of jokes and stories and made us laugh whenever he would come around. The same held true for Aunt Rae. She was always on show or so it seemed. One time she came to visit grandma while we were there and she brought her beau. He was a tall distinguished looking man with a very deep voice and we were informed that he had been the voice of God in the movie "The Ten Commandments" starring Charlton Heston. He even looked the part, with snowy white wavy hair.
Four of Grandma's sibling died before I was aware of their existense and of the others I barely knew them and probably met them a total of two or three times. It is such a sad commentary on family life when we know so little about those who are part of the frame of the picture we are in.
Now for my mother's mother's siblings. I almost remember them the best. There was Aunt Pearl, Uncle Vaughn, Aunt Lou, Aunt Edna and Uncle Ellis. Uncle Vaughn and Uncle Ellis I only saw about once a year duing family reunions. Our reunions were held at the Tucher Rest area in the canyon on the way to Price. One of mom's cousins would always make sourdough pancakes for everyone and all of the kids would play in the stream and get soaking wet and we would all dry off in the summer sun.
Aunt Pearl lived in Washington, not far from my Grandmother and we would get to visit with her when we would head up to visit our Grandparents and mom's brother and sister who lived there also.
Aunt Lou would come and visit us or we would go visit her. She lived in Castle Dale and was a widow. She was such a sweet person and I liked her a lot.
But of all of the siblings, it is Aunt Edna I remember best. She lived in Salt Lake also and was married to Uncle Bill. Mom was really close to them as I recall. Uncle Bill and my Grandpa Barney had worked in construction together most of their lives and that involved a lot of moving. I may have my facts mixed up, but I know that they were together quite a bit while my mom grew up and she loved to visit them and so did I.
Uncle Bill always fasinated me. He had tatoos on his arms and I was repulsed and attracked to them at the same time. I always wondered about them and why he would do that, but I never did ask. Uncle Bill was a Mason and Aunt Edna was LDS, but they loved each other a lot.
Aunt Edna had her home filled with all kinds of things she had crocheted. One item in particular held my attention each time we would visit. It was a small crocheted slipper, made of very fine crochet thread and it seemed so etherial to me. It always amazed me how it held its shape and stayed upright. I later learned that it had been placed on a form and dipped in a sugar solution and left to dry. Once the form was removed it would forever hold its shape, unless you got it wet, of course.
Every time we would go to visit Aunt Edna and Uncle Bill we knew we were in for a treat. She always had ice cream for us or some other goodie. Once time, she had made mincemeat pie. She served us each some and we tried it. I had never had mincemeat and did not know what it was, but was very unprepared for the taste. To this day I have never had it again. It is the only thing I ever had there that I did not consider a 'goodie'.
After Uncle Bill passed away, their son, "Little Bill" bought the home and built an addition on the back for Aunt Edna to live in. They put a pool table in the garage and that is where I played my first game of pool.
We always knew that Aunt Edna was making something for us for Christmas too. Sometime in October or November our mother would measure our feet or take other measurements. If she measured our feet, it meant that Aunt Edna was knitting us some slippers. We loved those slippers and wore them until there were holes in the bottoms. One year, duing the late 60's, she made each of the girls in my family a crocheted vest. They were very popular and I was so excited to get mine. It was beautiful and was a beige color, so that it would match almost anything I wore. I don't know if I ever thanked her for all that she did for us, but I know she is near and I hope she knows my heart is grateful for her gifts and the time and effort she put forth for us.
I miss her and Aunt Lou and Uncle Homer and Uncle Phil and all the rest of them. They were a generation of people that knew the value of hard work. Theirs was the generation that fought in World War II or stayed on the homefront and kept the fires burning. They were a connection to our forefathers who crossed the plains and settled where we now call home.
I am glad for the connections my children have had to those like my dear friend Maureen, who recently passed beyond this veil. To them and to their generation I dedicate this blog and hope that someday these ghosts of my past will be seen again and that we may renew those ties that bind us together.