I Love:
Ethel-Lee and Marie- my widowed neighbor lady friends who I keep tabs on...
and who keep tabs on me.
Ethel-Lee and Marie- my widowed neighbor lady friends who I keep tabs on...
and who keep tabs on me.
These two lovely ladies could not be more different then night and day. How they were raised, their personal attributes, hobbies, and events of married life and family life are opposite one another. One lives adjacent me, the other directly across the street. I enjoy serving them, spending time with them- each separately, watching their comings and goings, vicariously learning a great deal from them and hearing all about their personal history.
Ethel-Lee grew up a "bastard child". As she recounts, her step-father never let her forget the undesired label that two people bestowed upon her when she entered this world. When she related this to me, I nearly fell of my chair forgetting that in recent history (all too recent history!) it was customary to shun a child for the choices of his/her parents. He sounded like a real winner! She did not waste one more breath providing information about her step father, or what I am assuming was a horrible childhood with him, or bothered with even sharing his name. She only mentioned that when her mother divorced him, it was the best decision her mother ever made, and that she and her mother both hated him with vengeance.
As the only child, her mother kept her close. So much so, that Barbara shut out everyone in Ethel-Lee's life. Her peers, boyfriends, friends. Who ever, you name it, and this carried on until her mother died at age 97. Since I've known her for eight years, I've only ever heard her mention one close friend. Barbara was demanding and emotionally abusive to many degrees. To this day, Ethel-Lee is extremely bitter towards her mother for drowning her and taking away every chance at a normal life. She feels it is too late in life to jump back on ship and enjoy good health, loving relationships and dare I mention- dating. It is hard to see why she would not be bitter after hearing several of her stories, but as an outsider to her life- the three aforementioned things would be her miracle cure. She tells me no one would want her, not now, not after how she has become or how she looks. I tell her she has to learn to swim sometime. She speaks of love often and relishes any good romantic love story that will most assuredly reduce her to tears.
In her twenties, Ethel-Lee was married for a short time to a Tongan man (she has never disclosed his name). He was a big man, a fine cook, and had a fiery temper. She became pregnant with his child and divorced him soon after he beat her silly which caused her to have a miscarriage. She has never told me she hates men, but I get the impression she distrusts and does not like many of them much. She is, however, very appreciative of Mick, or when a man takes care of things she cannot do for herself.
She retired as a secretary from the Utah State Department of Education and enjoyed her work there. Theater was her degree in college. She is a talented singer who used to act and run every thing behind the stage at a few Theaters and Opera houses in Salt Lake City. Today, she keeps me educated in the arts and we enjoy attending Ellen Eccles Theater and the Utah Festival Opera Company together.
Her house is never open to visitors. I have never set foot inside, or had her open the door in front of me. "A hundred plus years of stuff" is piled inside her home, or so the plumber, who is also a neighbor, tells me. She rarely comes out, she's lonely, has no family to speak of- except for "cousin" who used to be like kin, but has more recently acted like a name I won't disclose.
She enjoys being around my family and will never turn down an invitation for dinner, or a movie night unless she is feeling awful. Often times, she invites herself. Even though our family reminds her of what she does not have, she has expressed to me, many times through tears, how grateful she is for our noisy house and how it makes her feel included in a family. A sense of place for her that she was never afforded.
Ethel-Lee loves chocolate, fine dessert, authentic cuisine, and a good deal. Each year she showers us with a gigantic box of See's Chocolates for Christmas, Lindt Lindor balls on special occasions, delectable deserts after dinner and coupons galore! Even though she is eccentric, opinionated and is always telling me how to parent, I let her be that way and after the evenings spent with her, I come away with a finer appreciation for all I've been blessed with.
Ethel-Lee grew up a "bastard child". As she recounts, her step-father never let her forget the undesired label that two people bestowed upon her when she entered this world. When she related this to me, I nearly fell of my chair forgetting that in recent history (all too recent history!) it was customary to shun a child for the choices of his/her parents. He sounded like a real winner! She did not waste one more breath providing information about her step father, or what I am assuming was a horrible childhood with him, or bothered with even sharing his name. She only mentioned that when her mother divorced him, it was the best decision her mother ever made, and that she and her mother both hated him with vengeance.
As the only child, her mother kept her close. So much so, that Barbara shut out everyone in Ethel-Lee's life. Her peers, boyfriends, friends. Who ever, you name it, and this carried on until her mother died at age 97. Since I've known her for eight years, I've only ever heard her mention one close friend. Barbara was demanding and emotionally abusive to many degrees. To this day, Ethel-Lee is extremely bitter towards her mother for drowning her and taking away every chance at a normal life. She feels it is too late in life to jump back on ship and enjoy good health, loving relationships and dare I mention- dating. It is hard to see why she would not be bitter after hearing several of her stories, but as an outsider to her life- the three aforementioned things would be her miracle cure. She tells me no one would want her, not now, not after how she has become or how she looks. I tell her she has to learn to swim sometime. She speaks of love often and relishes any good romantic love story that will most assuredly reduce her to tears.
In her twenties, Ethel-Lee was married for a short time to a Tongan man (she has never disclosed his name). He was a big man, a fine cook, and had a fiery temper. She became pregnant with his child and divorced him soon after he beat her silly which caused her to have a miscarriage. She has never told me she hates men, but I get the impression she distrusts and does not like many of them much. She is, however, very appreciative of Mick, or when a man takes care of things she cannot do for herself.
She retired as a secretary from the Utah State Department of Education and enjoyed her work there. Theater was her degree in college. She is a talented singer who used to act and run every thing behind the stage at a few Theaters and Opera houses in Salt Lake City. Today, she keeps me educated in the arts and we enjoy attending Ellen Eccles Theater and the Utah Festival Opera Company together.
Her house is never open to visitors. I have never set foot inside, or had her open the door in front of me. "A hundred plus years of stuff" is piled inside her home, or so the plumber, who is also a neighbor, tells me. She rarely comes out, she's lonely, has no family to speak of- except for "cousin" who used to be like kin, but has more recently acted like a name I won't disclose.
She enjoys being around my family and will never turn down an invitation for dinner, or a movie night unless she is feeling awful. Often times, she invites herself. Even though our family reminds her of what she does not have, she has expressed to me, many times through tears, how grateful she is for our noisy house and how it makes her feel included in a family. A sense of place for her that she was never afforded.
Ethel-Lee loves chocolate, fine dessert, authentic cuisine, and a good deal. Each year she showers us with a gigantic box of See's Chocolates for Christmas, Lindt Lindor balls on special occasions, delectable deserts after dinner and coupons galore! Even though she is eccentric, opinionated and is always telling me how to parent, I let her be that way and after the evenings spent with her, I come away with a finer appreciation for all I've been blessed with.
Marie- has had all the blessings and sorrows a normal life could afford. She was a mother of three, a wife, and a cherished daughter. She is genuine, nurturing, interested, educated, knowledgeable, patriotic, quiet yet firm, generous and kind.
She lives a quiet life now, mostly due to her decreased lung capacity, but she keeps busy reading, doing handwork of all sorts, and collecting and researching dolls. I have to practically restrain my girls in finger handcuffs each time I see their eyes light up over one of Marie's decorative dolls. Marie is creative, industrious, and loves to make things for her grandchildren or for humanitarian projects. She is always giving service where she can.
Back in the day, she used to enjoy cooking and baking pies. Now she anticipates when she can cook for her college grandchildren that visit most Sundays. Little did I know she was an expert pie maker until after she had eaten my first experimental pie. Had I known she was an expert, I would have never, NEVER in a million years, shared my experiments with her! I'm glad I did, or I would have missed out on her yummy old pumpkin pie recipe and crust making knowledge.
When I first met Marie, she was taking care of her husband who was dying of Cancer. When he passed away, her father whom she saw daily, died a few months later, and then just a short year later, her only daughter died unexpectedly. Often she will express to me often how lucky I am to be in the thick of life, having children to care for and Mick around to help me. "Men aren't supposed to die before women" she's told me often. Each time we visit, she shares her most recent worries about house and yard maintenance, the farms, her various properties and all the things that "Jack would just take care of. Oh, how I miss him!" I know she shared a special bond with her daughter, because her smile deepens when I share stories with her about my girls, and then she tells me how lucky I am to have THREE! Sometimes I beg to differ on the luck, so her words are a good reminder.
Marie belongs to the Utah Daughter of Pioneers association and is a fabulous historian- especially when it comes to Pioneer heritage. She will often tell me stories of her own ancestors or stories of projects her son is working on with his job in the LDS church history department. No doubt he got his appreciation of history from his mother.
When Logan City was reclaiming park strips, she and I would debate with officials until we were blue in the face. We would get angry together, make signs together, write letters together and then laugh at how much better the world would be if women ran the show. I loved to see her get fired up for her rights as a woman and citizen. Alas, we would reconsider our thinking and remember that we need good men around, so we will cope with the worst of them in exchange for a few good ones.
I love Marie. She's my nearby grandma of sorts. Her sweet nature, her happy smile, her living room chairs and her stories are always inviting. She helps me appreciate my life, as it is, in the moment, and to not wish certain times away.
I'll be sad when the day comes that these ladies are not around to enjoy.
She lives a quiet life now, mostly due to her decreased lung capacity, but she keeps busy reading, doing handwork of all sorts, and collecting and researching dolls. I have to practically restrain my girls in finger handcuffs each time I see their eyes light up over one of Marie's decorative dolls. Marie is creative, industrious, and loves to make things for her grandchildren or for humanitarian projects. She is always giving service where she can.
Back in the day, she used to enjoy cooking and baking pies. Now she anticipates when she can cook for her college grandchildren that visit most Sundays. Little did I know she was an expert pie maker until after she had eaten my first experimental pie. Had I known she was an expert, I would have never, NEVER in a million years, shared my experiments with her! I'm glad I did, or I would have missed out on her yummy old pumpkin pie recipe and crust making knowledge.
When I first met Marie, she was taking care of her husband who was dying of Cancer. When he passed away, her father whom she saw daily, died a few months later, and then just a short year later, her only daughter died unexpectedly. Often she will express to me often how lucky I am to be in the thick of life, having children to care for and Mick around to help me. "Men aren't supposed to die before women" she's told me often. Each time we visit, she shares her most recent worries about house and yard maintenance, the farms, her various properties and all the things that "Jack would just take care of. Oh, how I miss him!" I know she shared a special bond with her daughter, because her smile deepens when I share stories with her about my girls, and then she tells me how lucky I am to have THREE! Sometimes I beg to differ on the luck, so her words are a good reminder.
Marie belongs to the Utah Daughter of Pioneers association and is a fabulous historian- especially when it comes to Pioneer heritage. She will often tell me stories of her own ancestors or stories of projects her son is working on with his job in the LDS church history department. No doubt he got his appreciation of history from his mother.
When Logan City was reclaiming park strips, she and I would debate with officials until we were blue in the face. We would get angry together, make signs together, write letters together and then laugh at how much better the world would be if women ran the show. I loved to see her get fired up for her rights as a woman and citizen. Alas, we would reconsider our thinking and remember that we need good men around, so we will cope with the worst of them in exchange for a few good ones.
I love Marie. She's my nearby grandma of sorts. Her sweet nature, her happy smile, her living room chairs and her stories are always inviting. She helps me appreciate my life, as it is, in the moment, and to not wish certain times away.
I'll be sad when the day comes that these ladies are not around to enjoy.
What neat neighbors. I lived next to two elderly ladies when we lived in Tremonton, and I loved getting to know them both before they passed away. They're lucky to have you live by them too!!!
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