Marvelous Matriarchal Mentors

1.  I Love How You Love Me by Bobby Vinton

2.  Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley

3.  Delilah by Tom Jones

4.  Release Me by Engelbert Humperdinck

5.  Round and Round by Perry Como

6.  It's Not For Me to Say by Johnny Mathis

7.  Green, Green Grass of Home by Tom Jones

8.  Don't Be Cruel by Elvis Presley

9.  Peg O' My Heart by Buddy Clark

10. Moon River by Liberace

11. Love Me Tender by Elvis Presley

12. There Goes My Everything by Engelbert Humperdinck

13. Love Potion No. 9 by the Searchers

14. Danke Schoen by Wayne Newton

You know how it is - you usually don't recognize the greater blessings in your life right at first. It's usually after time and, unfortunately, often after you don't have those blessings in your life that you realize just how lucky you are/were.  Such is the case with my being raised by a most marvelous group of women.  We all know the saying, "It takes a village."  In my case, it took a matriarchy - a mother, grandmothers, great aunts, maternal aunts, paternal aunts, and even people who weren't directly related to me.  My memories of these amazing women and their powerful impact on my becoming who I am are some of my most cherished.  

I was the oldest granddaughter on my mother's side of the family and the first daughter born to my parents.  I remember being surrounded by a swarm of women who genuinely seemed interested in me.  It wasn't unusual for me to go spend the night at other people's homes.  I served as flower girl for several weddings.  There were always get-togethers for one reason or another and I always had the best times.  We would have BBQ's at the house on Keenan Street. This is not the same house I spoke of last time where I did my summer of laundry.  This is a smaller house just down the street, a much smaller house.  It is where my mother was born as well.  There was a pit out in the yard which was perfect for cook-outs and aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents would come and it would be a fun evening.  After a delicious meal (my aunts and uncles are great cooks!) the men would go off on their own - probably playing horseshoes - and the women would congregate in chairs close to the fire pit.  The kids would run around and play and as it got dark we'd go in search of the perfect stick which we could put in the fire pit and get the tip all fiery ember red.  Then we'd swoosh our stick through the air and make designs, the lit tip tracing our patterns for all to see.  We'd do figure eights and circles and swoops.  The older kids would write their names.  When we'd tire of the sticks we'd begin our chase of the lightning bugs.  It was all magical and full of wonder for me - and it remains as such in my mind - full of fantasy and warm fuzzies.  

I'd run and play with the kids but my favorite place was staying close to the circle of my mom, grandma and aunts and listen to them visit and laugh.  These were my mom's sisters and sisters-in-law - Emily, Linda, Bev, and Sandy.  They'd smoke their cigarettes and share stories and opinions and the light of the fire lit up their faces.  I felt safe with them.  To this day the smell of fresh cigarette smoke fills me with warmth and a sense of security.  Add in some fresh cut grass and I am locked in Keenan Street.  Aside from Tabu, it is the strongest scent-to-memory connection I have.  At times, I have been moved to tears even.  That is just how sweet those memories are.  Most people think I'm crazy for enjoying the smell of cigarette smoke, but I can't help it.  It is what it is.  I didn't choose it, I didn't plan it, but there it is! 

 My grandma, Mildred Isabelle Schmutz Ristau, and I (on the left) with my

 cousins Shelly Ristau (on grandma's lap) and Tammy Lawton by our house 

         in Clarendon.

My Aunt Linda's mother-in-law, Ruth Lawton, was also part of this group of women who hovered over and around me.  At the time, I thought nothing extraordinary at all about going and spending a night or two with her at her home.  I just always thought she was another relative.  I guess in a round about way she is, but she's my aunt's relatives, really.  I try to put it in perspective nowadays and I just don't think it happens often.  It would be like my kids going and staying with one of my or my husband's siblings in-laws.  I just don't see that happening. Anyway, it did for me.  Ruth would have me over and would make a fuss over me.  It was great fun.  I'd help her with her laundry (again, with the laundry and the water shaker bottle) and she lived in town so we'd go on walks around the streets and she'd greet her neighbors and introduce me.  My Uncle Bruce (this was his parents) had a sister, Nancy, and some brothers, Larry and Denny.  The brothers were about high school age, I think, and they'd all just be so kind to me.  I loved going there.  Ruth even had a photographer come and take my pictures in their back yard once.  It's amazing the attention I received.  I would have to concede I was probably a bit spoiled.  I don't understand why this all happened, but I'll always be glad for it and the memories I have.

                                                                                       Myself with Ruth Lawton and my mother at Chapman's Dam.  I really wish 

                                                                                            I had gotten those legs from my mother.  Look at her!  She's a goddess!

My father's sisters were also great fun.  I especially remember his sister, Emily, coming to the house.  Both my mom and dad had sisters named Emily but this one is my dad's sister.  We had a van at the time, I want to say a Chevy or a Ford, and it was big and red.  In between the two front seats was this large hump inside which I think the engine or some important part of the car resided.  But it was the perfect perch for a little one my size.  This was waaaaay before car seats, mind you.  My mom and Aunt Emily would have to run an errand and we'd climb in and they'd put me on that hump between them.  We'd turn on the radio and we'd sing and sing as we went on our way.  A very popular song at this one time was Love Potion No. 9 and my Aunt Emily loved this song.  She made sure to teach me every word and thought it the biggest laugh to have her little niece belting out the words to this song - and I have to agree, it was probably pretty funny!  But I knew(know) them all!  And we'd be flying down Rt. 6 singing about Madame Ruth, the gypsy with the gold-capped tooth, and her wonderful potion.  Sublime!  Oh, how I wish we could rewind and relive some moments.  This would be on my list for sure.  This same Aunt Emily loved to play Solitaire.  My mom thought it a waste of time but I was intrigued how Emily could sit at the table and play this game over and over again.  I watched and asked questions and figured out how to play it eventually.  I never play it without thinking of her. Dad's other sisters, Mary, Waneta, and Dolly were also so special to me.  Mary lived far away most of the time, but when I was about eight years old, she would come into my life in a big way and capture my heart as much as the others.  Waneta and Dolly lived out in the Russell or Scandia area, I think, and we'd go visit them.  They had horses and lived a more rural life.  We'd sit and visit in the kitchen and I remember them getting out their little roller machines and rolling their own cigarettes while we all visited and laughed.  They all had such great laughs.  I loved how they would just laugh without abandon.  I learned from them that there was always a way to find humor in a situation.  And why not laugh instead of cry?

As I've said in earlier blogs, my aunts nearly swooned over certain recording artists.  Some of them I understand, others, well, not quite so much.  I adore Bobby Vinton.  I also appreciated Elvis Presley.  I loved watching his silly romance movies when they'd come on late at night on the weekends.  I also thought Engelbert had a dreamy voice and I thought he looked alot like my Uncle Tom, which is funny, considering that it was my Aunt Bev, Tom's wife, who was the biggest Engelbert fan.  But I could never understand the Tom Jones fascination nor the Johnny Mathis.  Tom Jones always seemed to be all sweaty.  As a little girl I couldn't even remotely figure out why that wouldn't repulse everyone.  Yet, still, they swooned.  I'd ask them what the big deal was and they'd just pass one of those knowing smiles between themselves as if to say, someday you'll know, sweetie.  Well, I think I know what they were hinting at now, but he still escapes my scope of appreciation.  Different strokes for different folks.  It's much like my thing for Sting.  I get those same looks from my girls when I talk about him.  They just don't get it. And that's OK!  Johnny Mathis just had this funny, breathless sort of voice that I've never developed an appreciation for.  Yet this playlist would not be complete if he and Tom weren't on it.  

Some might ask - "What gives with Liberace?"  Or, more likely, they are saying, "Who in the heck is Liberace?"  I included Liberace (lib-er-AH-chee) for my Aunt Gwen's sake.  She had attended his concerts and thought him quite the showman - and he was.  FYI - Liberace was an entertainer extraordinaire.  He played the piano - but not just any piano.  His pianos were ornately decorated and so far past gaudy!  He would dress in elaborate costumes, studded with rhinestones and feathers and silks and furs.  It was all about excess and fanfare.  And my Aunt Gwen ate it all up!  She would come back from her trips and tell us detail after detail about what he wore and what he played.  It makes me smile now.  I also included Perry Como for her. He is another that I would hear her talk about and when I'd go over to her place he'd be playing on the record player.  Perry and Liberace - from one end of the spectrum to the other!

My grandpa's nickname was Peg.  Don't know why.  His name was Emil.  But my grandma called him Peg.  Maybe it was because of this song.  I just know it was "their" song.  Peg O' My Heart is for my grandma.  She usually had a record on when I went up to her house and I thought it the coolest thing because she could put a record on in the dining room and you could hear it through speakers out in their garage where my grandpa worked on cabinets.  It was quite ahead of the time, I'd imagine.  She'd play kids records for us - "Oh , would you like to be an elephant . . " but mostly, she'd listen to instrumental orchestral music.  She obviously kept a good listen to the radio as my kids will attest to her doing a Michael Jackson-esque dance in her kitchen one afternoon.  My grandmother - well - she deserves her own entry.  It'd probably take more than one.  I love her, I cherish her imprint on my life, I miss her.

I now realize that one blog entry won't even come close to cover the entire topic of the women who shaped me.  I keep having floods of experiences that I want to share.  I'll just have to take them one at a time.  But know for now, I am who I am because of them.  And I think that that's a very good thing.