I am participating in my ninth Slice of Life Story Challenge run by the team behind the Two Writing Teachers website. We are challenged to write a blog post a day throughout the month of March.
"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." --Maya Angelou
We drove in from Austin the night before
Reckless young things, Cleveland-bound in a day
Exhausted and already packed for the trip home
The family reunion was underway
The heat of the summer barely mitigated
Inside homes without air conditioning
We get ushered to the backyard
It's a whirlwind of introductions and
we've been dating a few months and
yes we drove from Texas and
what is that on the grill? Szalonna bread?
Oh, I love bacon!
Yes, Szeredy is Hungarian--my father's side
My mother is Irish; I don't remember szalonna...
Nice to meet you, Uncle Pete and Aunt Lucy
I have an Uncle Pete too, on my father's side
Thank you for the warm welcome.
We left the party, straight back to the highway
Austin-bound in a day
Not knowing that as we walked away,
Pete and Lucy turned to each other and said,
"That boy is going to marry that girl."
They knew, even before the reckless young things did.
The two Uncle Petes never met; there was a funeral for another uncle in Ohio the weekend of our wedding. We got to hear the story of Pete and Lucy's prediction later, on a less hurried visit to Cleveland.
Ohio Pete left us years ago. I spoke with Lucy briefly several weeks ago, when she had been hospitalized after a fall. She called back after she got home, and we had a lovely chat, the first in years.
Lucy passed away this Sunday. I will always remember the warmth of their welcome, their smiling eyes, their positive outlook. When you visited with them, you were the center of their attention. They are both dearly missed.
I have always admired people who can write poetry. One of my English professor colleagues explained the form to me about ten years ago. I didn't keep up what they suggested, so, now I've forgotten what they taught me. That being said, I absolutely love the imagery you conjure in your writing. I'm right there with you. Thanks so much for sharing this Slice with me.
ReplyDeleteOrval, I admire folks who can pen a good story in prose! I tend to get overly wordy; maybe that's why poetry is a bit easier for me. Thanks for sharing in my memories.
DeleteA lovely tribute to Lucy. Poetry is a perfect way to conjure those images.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Julieanne. Our visits may have been brief, but her spirit was impactful. Poetry seems to be the easiest way for me to capture snippets of memory.
DeleteLove your poetic venture back in time, and that warm reception from Pete and Lucy. I am sorry for her passing and am sure the memories came flooding back, that for a moment, you were there again in the backyard, the heat ("barely mitigated" is a great phrase). The food sounds so intriguing, Chris!
ReplyDeletePete and Lucy were just so charming, Fran. And yes, lack of AC is one reason I would have a hard time living in Ohio! As for the szalonna (I had to look up the spelling; my husband pronounces it "sulunna", emphasis on the first syllable), I remember thinking a) it was delicious and b) it was a heart attack on toast!
DeleteLoss of bright stars exactly. So glad you paid tribute in homage to them in this beautiful way. I'm so sorry for your family's loss. Conjure them often by telling their stories. XOX, Nawal
ReplyDeleteI love that line, Nawal--"Conjure them often by telling their stories." The magic in memories...especially ones that make us smile.
DeleteChris, I'm sorry for your loss. Your words take us to those moments, as if we're right there with you.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Alice. It was such an intensely exhausting trip--physically, because we literally drove to and from Cleveland in under three days without staying over along the way, and emotionally because of the family introductions. Is it any wonder that if we could survive that, we could survive thirty years of marriage?
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