Thursday, August 23, 2012
It has been 2 1/2 years since my beloved and treasured Aunt Zabel died. I think of her often and miss her very much. I remember family gatherings in her house on Hempstead Road in Spring Valley. There was always good food, fun and music there-especially polka music. The guys would be in the sun room and there was usually a football game on, Aunt Zabel might be playing the organ in her living room, Uncle Louie would be making his great pasta sauce and meatballs made with cheese. And good bakery rolls. Pedro and Blackie (their cats) would be hanging around. These family gatherings meant more to me than I knew then. My Dad left the family and Aunt Zabel and Uncle Lou took us under their wing and provided some much needed family stability. If something happened to my Mom, the plan was that they would raise me. We spent so many Thanksgivings and Christmas together. It was tradition, and this stuck in my mind and helped shape my life. In later years when I moved from New Jersey to Las Vegas, she'd vacation with my Dad and we'd all go to brunches and shows and hang around the house listening to polka music and we'd dance with each other. Every single time I hear a polka I miss her so much. I want to call her on the phone, and visit with her at my home in Calif. That awful stroke robbed everyone of more of the kindness, fun, silliness, generosity and love that Aunt Zabel could give. My Mom (now 90) and I are doing very well here in Calif. We go to water aerobics and see each other all the time; I live 10 minutes away from her. My heartless and cruel brother and sister-in-law have dis-owned my Mother for over 20 years now-for reasons that are a complete mystery to her and me; he has never given us a reason. They forbid her to see or write to the grandsons for years, both when they were small children and even when they were in college. It crushed her. She wants to be in all their lives, she's begged them for years to talk to her. I don't know how my brother can live with himself, my Mom doesn't deserve this at all. Thank Goodness for memories of Aunt Zabel to help wipe out that ugliness. I hope all is well with the family and I know you miss Aunt Zabel too. As the saying (and song) goes "Those were the days, my friend". Love, Janet
