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"The Wondering Jew"

2000-11-29 - 18:33 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

Me ?

Musing tonight on some of the things that might have a bearing on who I am and why I am me.

My great uncle on my Dad's side, a hard working, conscientious, honest, skilled cabinet maker, carpenter and father of four. I always admired him and the way he met life. He was mild, soft spoken, very courteous and generous to a fault. I never saw the man in a heated discussion and heaven forbid that he would stoop to argue with anyone.

He was a model of one who taught by example, doing the right things and helping to raise his kids to be like that, but he had the most loving, gentle, wonderful way of accomplishing the hard task of coping with a family. He did not spoil his kids, he encouraged them to look at things realistically.

He built their two story frame house by himself while the children were tots, and nicely designed and built it was. It was not a rich man's paradise, but a home having room for all, stoutly built and where love would hold sway always. Aunty was the short tempered disciplinarian, hard working to a fault who could only show her love to her family by working 26 hours of the day.

I guess that Uncle and Auntie added together and then averaged out was good for the kids.

I can remember once when my cousin and I were in our early teens and got into discussion of our family I inquired as to how many spankings he got from his Dad. He got this bemused, puzzled look on his face and tried to explain his Dad's mystique. He told me that his Dad had never spanked him, even though cousin knew he need a spanking. He related that when his Dad talked to him about some wrongdoing of his that his Dad would get a sort of wounded look on his face and say something on the order of, "Oh, I wouldn't have done that." He said that hurt him worse than the strappings his Mom handed out freely. Cousin said he would go off by himself and cry about how he had hurt his Dad.

Cousin and I finally reached the point in our young lives that we became adept in evading sharp cuts from her strop, while acting like we were being hurt. But by the time Uncle got home in the evening, the smoke usually had blown away and dear old Auntie had cooled down a bit and a pleasant evening was had by all. I never heard her say anything to Uncle about our bad behavior -- I guess in her way she loved him deeply and didn't want him to know about our behavior and how she had lost her temper and stropped us. Maybe she dreaded seeing the sad, hurt look on his face and hear him say, "Oh, I wouldn't have done it that way."

He did a huge amount of carpentry and cabinet making for Auntie's church, with good will, cheerfully, somehow though he never showed up at anything at church except weddings, funerals and when one of us was taking part up on the dias. I remember speaking a piece on Easter one year and being so happy that I hadn't fluffed up and diasppointed Mom, Dad and Uncle.

Auntie and I had an ongoing, underground distaste and dislike for each other mostly because she did not like my Mother emphatically and would get her digs in whenever possible in front of other people. My Mother although not of Uncle's blood, was so like him in character and actions it was unbelievable. I knew my Mom, well. And although I asked her and asked Dad what auntie had against my Mom they seemed to be as puzzled as I was. Stereotypes Ahead - best way I can describe. -- The only thing I could ever come up with in my young life was that auntie was Pennsylvania Dutch of some kind or another, narrow minded as well -- and just didn't like the idea of my Dad marrying that West Virginia hillbilly. It wasn't just a personality clash but outright, obvious, enmity by my auntie toward my Mom. I worshipped my Uncle, disliked his wife, loved my cousins and went on from there.

On a Sunday when Dad brought us over to their house, the routine was about the same, a big dinner and dessert, my Dad and Uncle playing pinochle or rummy in the front room in the afternoon and then in the evening a light snack of left overs then all gathering around the piano and singing together. Songs that we all loved and enjoyed even though I was ? atonal ? ((sound of chewing gravel)) ? couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, even if someone helped me hold the handle. I sang by letter, rare back and letter come out loud. Sounded good to me and the family all were compassionate. The gathering together and being close to one another gave me a sense of being an integral part of a whole family.

It also might have been that my mother was a person who showed her love openly for her husband and child, whereas auntie never touched any of her children that I know of. Too uptight I guess and maybe envious of my Mother's ability to pet, pat and hug, twitch my forelock out of my eyes with a loving glance that warmed me to my very core.

It was there that I began to learn maybe, that to be a part of a family, I was allowed to be different, think different and yet be a full member of the group and share closeness with them and draw strength from their loving closeness to me.

I always remembered my Uncles's example and never laid a hand on our girls, spanked the oldest boy once and the youngest several times, but felt that is what was necessary in their individal cases and was part of the method of the times, as their offenses were pretty bad.

So, along the way we have seen our children bring their own children up in a similar manner. Heather came from a non-touching family, when a baby was in the process being in the "Terrible Twos" Heather's Mom would no longer cuddle, cosset and make a lap for them. Heather in a very short time after her first birth she became as my Mom was, loving, hugging, patting, petting and arm squeezing, hair smoothing and sweet talking the kids, and even later down the line became that way toward me. I think that after the kids came she felt that we shouldn't do that damn kid stuff. Now, often when out walking, her hand will sneak out seek my hand and snuggle with mine as we walk about, a pat on the shoulder now and then and even hugs if I have been a good boy, loving respect toward me -- much better than I have seen in other marriages. I am no great shakes, not rich, talented, athletic or much of an expert at most anything, so tell me, just how could it be that such good fortune occured to . . . Me ? . . . . . . . . . . .

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