A Visit With Someone From Your Past (not a relative)
I am writing today on the topic. Sort of. The person I have selected to “visit” from my past is my mom. Yes. A relative. And the reason is -- Even though I had a very warm and loving relationship with her and she was 88 years old when she died – I still had questions and needed answers from her. My problem was that I didn’t realize I had all those questions until years after she died. And so, my writing today will be a letter to my mom.
“Hi mom,
You don’t know it; but, I joined a wonderful creative writing group seven years ago and I’ve spent those years writing about you – and dad – my life growing up in Forest Lake – my friends – and my life as a wife and mother, among other adventures, trips, and relationships.
When writing about you, mom, I found myself asking questions that I wished I had asked you when I had the chance. So, let’s start at the beginning, My beginning.
I’ve written the story about the day I was born. I was two months’ early and I was born via a C-section. I weighed 3 pounds, 3 ounces, 17” long and was in an incubator for five weeks before I was allowed to go home. That’s all I knew.
But…… a few years ago, you just happened to mention to me that you had confirmed with your doctor that yes, in fact, you had died on the operating table while giving birth to me. It took you twenty years to ask your doctor about that day and then another twenty years before you told me. All you told me was that you remember going through a tunnel and seeing the doctor work on you while on the table. I wish I would have asked you to describe your near-death experience in more detail to me. Were you calm or anxious? Could you hear what the doctor was saying? How long did your experience last? Did you see anyone who had died before you? Did you tell Dad what happened to you? If so – right away? Or, did you keep it to yourself?
Well, I’ll never know, will I? I have other questions about you and your relationship with your mom, Grandma Lehecka. I know that you were an only child until the age of 12 when your brother, my Uncle Tommy, was born. You lived in Finlayson, MN when you were in grade school. I remember you telling me that every summer after school was out, Grandma would put you on the passenger train in Finlayson and 11 miles later, your aunt and uncle and cousins would meet you in Willow River and keep you for the entire summer. You enjoyed those summers with your cousins. But….. you were only 6, 7, and 8 years old!! Who puts a little kid on the train all by herself? Couldn’t Grandma have taken you on the train and maybe visited with your aunt and uncle for the afternoon and then return home later in the day? Did she ever visit you during those three months? What did she do while you were gone? Uncle Tommy wasn’t born until you were 12!! And then, I remember you saying that all you were good for was to babysit him !!
Another thing about Grandma. And Grandpa, I guess. Although I think Grandma was in charge. Was she? I remember you telling me that when you were seven years old, the only gift you got at Christmas was coal in your stocking! How could you be so bad that all you got was coal? You were an only child, for heaven’s sake! Who did you fight with? How cruel! Did you later get a doll or another gift? You must have been so traumatized? Were you? This inquiring mind wants to know!
You always said that Uncle Tommy was the child that Grandma always wanted. At last! A boy to carry on the Lehecka name. He was spoiled. Even as an adult. I remember you telling me that Uncle Tommy and Aunt Bev would travel from South Minneapolis to Forest Lake at least once a month to visit Grandma and Grandma. These visits occurred during the 12 years Grandma was bedridden after suffering a stroke. Grandpa kept a very good record of all of their financial transactions. And, after their deaths, you discovered that after each visit every month, Grandpa would give Uncle Tommy a check for $150 to help “tide them over.” I remember you were very angry when you found out about all those checks to Uncle Tommy – because your mom and dad never gave you a penny!
Even though you were not the “loved” one, you loved your mom and dad and took care of them both when they needed help. Grandpa needed help to care for Grandma for the 12 years while she was bedridden. YOU provided that help – and care – and love that they needed. You cleaned their house, did their grocery shopping, planned birthday and anniversary parties, and many more caregiving activities too numerous to mention. You even made the meals when Uncle Tommy and Aunt Bev came to visit – and collect their $150 check!
You didn’t hold a grudge or stop caring because they didn’t treat you fairly. You were a dutiful and loving daughter to them. I’m proud of you, mom.”
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