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My aunt died last week. She was an aged and frail lady, and it was her time to go; so it was not a sad event. Nonetheless, it got me to thinking. Aunt Elizabeth was a charming and fascinating lady, and one of these days when I feel unusually eloquent, I'll write something that does justice to her. But that's just not in me today. Today my thoughts are a bit more abstract.
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But before I begin, I feel I should warn you. I do not mean to make light of anyone's belief or religion; quite the contrary. But there are some things about death and the afterlife that I just can't figure out, and I intend to ponder them for a while. If you are especially sensitive to these kind of discussions, you may not find my musings entertaining, and perhaps you should not read any further. But I assure you that I do not mean to offend anybody. |
For the sake of this discussion, let's assume that there is a God, and that you do have an eternal spirit, and that after you die, your spirit does go to Heaven, or possibly to, what we called in the fifties, "the other place." OK, now for starters, all my relatives went to Heaven - that is just an absolute. The mean, grumpy, old neighbors that lived next door to me when I was growing up, the Stumms... they have a permanent residence in "the other place." But all my relatives... they are surely "up there."
| My aunt laid in bed for several weeks, too weak to live and too strong to die. She was not in any pain, but she clearly was not comfortable; she was just waiting to die. I do not presume to be able to put myself in her place, but it seems to me that she should have been excited and eager to go on to the next life. After all, her work here was done, and she had absolutely no interest in whether the Tampa Bay Bucs would make it to the Super Bowl this year. (Earth to Elizabeth: they are not!) She knew very well that the Chinese were trying to buy influence in the Clinton administration - she didn't need any Senate investigation to reveal a "smoking gun." So she had resolved all the Earthly mysteries of interest to her. She was ready to go on to the really important matters. |
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On the other side of life, a thousand generations of Chicowitz' were awaiting her. While she was here, she could name most of them; she could tell you all about their lives; now her chance to meet them was at hand. As she lay in bed, she must have been thinking about that.
Hundreds of years ago, the Chicowitz' of England were poachers. "And they were good poachers," Elizabeth explained. She said that it was kind of like a Robin Hood thing, or sort of like soaking the rich to help the poor. You know... the Clinton tax plan of 1993. I guess I can live with that. But when it comes time to take the measure of my life, I hardly think I would want to compare it to anything in the Clinton administration. But... those were different times.
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Aunt Elizabeth told me that it was health considerations that brought the Chicowitz' to America over 150 years ago. As she told it, one of my ancestors' best friends, one Charles Dilk, had an extremely close relationship with one of the king's "ladies in waiting." (Apparently this particular lady got tired of waiting, and Charles Dilk just happened to be in the right place at the right time.) Anyway, when the king found out, Charles Dilk decided he should make a hasty exit from England, for the sake of his health. He talked one of my ancestors into coming with him. Hence... we who followed are all Americans. And the first Chicowitz to set foot on American soil named his first son "Charles Dilk Chicowitz." |
Aunt Elizabeth also recalled stories of old Uncle Coot, whom she could barely remember. Coot was some kind of blockade runner or spy during the Civil War. Exactly which side he was spying for remains a bit cloudy. But he was, after all, a true, southern gentleman. (Until I came along, all the Chicowitz' had been born in the south. I had the gall to be born in Cleveland, Ohio. But is was south Cleveland, I am quick to add.)
Elizabeth's mother (my grandmother) died 35 years ago; her father, a decade before that. So she had a lot of catching up to do with them. She had not been able to speak to my father (her brother) in over 30 years. And my mother, who had been such a help to her as they both grew older, has been gone for nearly ten years. So, assuming that once you leave this earth you have no further contact with it, the Chicowitz' of the 20th century had been waiting a long time for a "family newsletter."
I was the only one left to have regular contact with my aunt; I was there for some of the last meaningful conversations she had. And over the past several years, I have talked extensively with her about me and my life. So surely she will be able to update my parents on their only son. At first, I was pleased, but then a little disturbed as I thought more about it.
Certainly my parents will be proud that I took care of my aunt. But I suppose she will tell them that it took me nearly five years to get a proper marker for my mother's grave site. I blurted that out to my aunt in a moment of innocent conversation a couple years ago. Boy, my dad will be ticked off at that. Whew!
And then my aunt will have to tell my parents that, a decade later, I am still driving the same car, still living in the same house, still struggling to become a writer, and still not getting paid a penny for the words that I do write. My mother never imagined me as a writer, and certainly she will not be impressed. And my father will wonder what the heck I am sitting around, waiting for. At least he'll be relieved to know that I did not go on to law school. As far as I know, no members of my family have ever been lawyers. That goes a long way toward explaining why we are all in Heaven, doesn't it?
I don't think my mother remembered what kind of a car I owned, but my aunt sure did. She was forced to ride in it - it was the last car in which she ever rode. And when my father finds out that I bought a Japanese car, he's gonna' go through the ceiling!! - assuming they have ceilings in Heaven.
I suppose she will try to explain to them what I do with computers. But my aunt had no idea what the Internet is; in fact, she never used a computer. So it'll be kind of "like trying to tell a stranger 'bout rock n' roll." My father will just sit there in amazement, and my mother will just shake her head. "Come on, she'll say. Let's get on to something important. Does he water my plants regularly? Does he wear clean underwear, for heaven's sake." (As if my aunt would know that particular detail.)
| Elizabeth will have to tell them that I am still single, with no likely heirs to the Chicowitz name in sight. That's bound to make them wonder about me - more than a little bit. I wish I'd emphasized to my aunt that I am indeed eager to get married (yes, to a woman) and have a family. That might make them rest a little easier. Then again, my aunt was single for her entire life; so she might have a little explaining to do herself. (Not that it really matters, of course.) I suppose it won't mean anything to my parents, but they can be comforted in the knowledge that when I arrive, I will not be wearing an earring. And my mother will be relieved to know that I shaved off that beard she always hated. She never understood bell-bottoms, either. (Of course, to be completely honest, neither did I.) |  |
Aunt Elizabeth could charm anyone into just about anything. She was as stubborn as they come; but when she said "no," she did so in such a charming way, you'd have thought she had said "yes." Elizabeth inherited all the charm in the family; I got the crooked teeth.
I read some of my essays about midlife crisis and growing up in the sixties to my aunt. She listened politely, and chuckled when she thought it was appropriate. But she was not a baby boomer, and I'm sure she did not understand them at all. How will she possibly be able to translate that to my parents?
So, it's been nearly a decade since my parents have heard anything about me... unless... unless pets can talk to humans in Heaven. Now that opens up a whole set of other possibilities. My cat died a few years ago, and if he can talk to my parents, he'll be able to pass on a few details I'd just as soon they not know. My cat was hiding in the corner when I entertained guests at my house, and was privy to some of my activities with them. I'd rather my parents be left in the dark about that, thank you. And Princess, my dog... I tell her just about anything that happens to enter my mind. Why, she often sleeps in the same bedroom as I do. Oh, suddenly this is very uncomfortable. What do you suppose I can do to keep her quiet? "Man's best friend"? I'm not so sure, now. Princess never likes it when I tell her to "put your heady down... put your heady... down." I suppose she'll complain to them about that. But my mother will get a huge laugh out of it - that particular idea (right down to the wording) was all hers. For joy! My mother has a lasting legacy.
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If I had to do it all over again, I suppose I would be more discreet in my later conversations with my aunt. And all my pets... would be blind and deaf. You might want to make a note of that for your own purposes. |
I was not there when my aunt finally passed away. I am told that she died quietly. But just before she stopped breathing, she opened one eye and appeared to wink. Then she whispered softly, what some observers said was, "Uncle Coot... over here..."
Yeah; that's how I want to go, when the time comes. But with any luck, it'll be a long while. Nonetheless, I guess I may have a little explaining to do when I reach the pearly gates... but much, much, much less, than, say... Marv Albert.
Life goes on.
| The BBHQ Album of the Month is "Old Friends Live on Stage (Deluxe Edition) (2 CD/1 DVD)," by Simon & Garfunkel. If you were fortunate enough to see them in concert last year, I do not have to sell you. The concert was terrific! This album collection includes 55 songs, plus their new recording, "Citizen of the Planet," and one of the songs sung by the Everly Brothers during the concert. The DVD was recorded during their concert in Madison Square Garden in 2003. For any S&G fan, this is a must have! But then, you knew that already, didn't you? |
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The BBHQ Book of the Month is
"Vinyl Highway," by
Dee Dee Phelps. You remember her as Dee Dee, of Dick and Dee Dee.
Together, they took a decade long ride on the rock and roll roller
coaster. It was a heck of a ride! Dick Clark, Quincy Jones, the Beach
Boys, Glenn Campbell, Dionne Warwick, Bobby Vinton... Dick and Dee Dee
rubbed shoulders with all of them. This is her "behind the scenes" story.
It's pretty cool.
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