"Thing" and "Mimi"

I don't know why I had such a problem remembering my grandfather's (second) wife's name when I was a kid. I think it had to do with the fact that we knew our parents and grandparents not by their names but by their familial relationship to us. With Charlotte, I think I simply didn't know what to call her, since she wasn't my grandmother, so.. I called her "Thing." It wasn't intentional. I didn't think to myself, "I'll call her 'Thing'"... it just popped out.

My mom got rather upset every time I did. I think I'd broken the habit by the time I'd taken this picture, which I think dates back to about 1977 or 1978 – I think they were in town for my younger brother's wedding.



In all the years my grandfather and I were alive at the same time (he died in early 1981), I probably saw him less than ten times. He lived in New York City (Manhattan) and rarely traveled to Ohio. We made occasional trips to New York but not so often as to develop a relationship with the man.

Charlotte, as the picture illustrates was rather unassuming and withdrawn. I've never given a whole lot of thought about why she didn't seem particularly friendly, but I often wonder if my mother hadn't rejected her at some point for having become her mother's "replacement." My grandparents divorced and my grandmother died before I had been born, I think. I'm not quite sure when Charlotte came onto the scene, but the picture reflects precisely how I recall her. From what I recall, though, she was a dancer on Broadway at one time. (My father was a bookkeeper – I've been told he kept books for Guy Lombardo at one time.)

While I was digging up the above picture, I came across several others worth mentioning...



Mimi was my favorite aunt. Bar none.

Above is Mimi on the morning of my brother's wedding, sitting at our kitchen table with her husband, my mom's brother, my favorite uncle "Skip". I think that Mimi was my first relative outside of our household who seemed to genuinely like me – and showed it. Skip is one of the most generous people I've ever known. (By the way, on the right is the piano I played as a kid. Also, note the milk container on the table – pre-HDPE-2.)

Her real name was Madeline, but she was Mimi to everybody. She and Skip married when I was about ten, if I recall... my parents went to New York for the wedding and we kids didn't. Skip had a job with United Air Lines in Chicago, so Mimi moved to be with him in Elk Grove Village (recently shortened to Elk Grove), Illinois, but we visited them quite often and once, when I was in sixth or seventh grade, I stayed with them for a couple of weeks, returning home to Toledo via my first airplane trip.

I don't know that I can recall much about Mimi in particular, except that she was possibly the first adult woman to whom I was attracted (as young boys might be). She was pretty and funny and kind and had one of the thickest New York accents I'd ever heard – and I lived with one! Somehow, I just knew that I was her favorite nephew, too.

Mimi died of cancer that had developed in her pelvis. It was, from all accounts, an excruciating death for her. I was playing softball near Flint, Michigan when I got the news and it was quite devastating to hear it. When I talked to Skip about it, he told me that on the day she died, she had become delusional. The pain was so bad that she hadn't remembered that Skip had already given her her dose of morphine. She was violently belligerent, accusing him of holding out on her. It sounded right out of a movie.

I learned only a few years before she died that she played violin prior to getting married. I never got to hear her play... I'm sorry I never asked her to. After she died, I fantasized that Skip might offer her violin to me, but that never came to be. I wonder what became of it.

I thought of Mimi last evening as I was preparing dinner. I was slicing an onion for dinner and it was a seriously strong one; it got my eyes to watering big time. I recalled that Mimi was the first person I'd ever seen "cry" as a result of slicing onions – I'd seen it in cartoons or TV shows, but had never witnessed it first-hand.

The most recent photo I have of Mimi is this one (with her near carbon-copy son, Donald) – taken while I was in college. I can't recall the occasion, but I think I hadn't graduated yet. Her cancer hadn't been discovered yet.