Till the end of time

Yesterday I went into Manhattan. My plan was to do the galleries, check out a few museums, visit friends, enjoy the sights and sounds. But . . . I felt like the country mouse in the city, Overwhelmed. Even though I lived there for almost twenty-five years, know the streets, the transit system, know how to maneuver around the fast moving crowds, it still seemed like too much activity.

So after leaving my overnight bag at my friends Leah and Pedro’s, I went to visit my 101-almost-102 year old aunt, Marcella. I was at her 100th birthday party, a memorable event where she kept us all entertained with her humor and joy at being feted. (March 9 and 10, 2005 entries with photos.) She lives, still, in the same apartment she always did. Now someone is with her all the time, she is unsteady on her feet and no longer can cook for herself. She does go out for short excursions, loves a good meal, enjoys company. Except for some short-term loss of memory, her mind is good. Her body is weaker than when I visited her last May but she is still very curious and lively in speech.

She greeted me warmly, asked me about my life, what am I doing, do my paintings sell, do I show them, if I color my hair, told me she thought it was too dark, asked me if I had a boyfriend, and then she said never get married, just live together. When you get married, she said, something goes out of a relationship. I showed her photos of Lila and of course she liked her, commented what good company dogs are. We talked some about family. She was delighted I went to visit my sister. (So am I.) Eventually she was tired and lay down for a nap. We held hands. She told me she is no longer a good hostess. She said in a year you will remember this. Indeed I will.

She is the last of my mother’s many sisters. They were all formidable, strong women. Sadly, because of their family patterns, they had more intelligence than they were able to use creatively often enough. There was an underlying frustration for all of them.

I look at Marcella and I see my history, my grandmother, my mother, my sister, all of us at once. Being with her, seeing her age, peppered with vinegar, spice, sugar and grace. She helps me appreciate my family.

Posted by leya at December 22, 2006 10:09 PM