MY Great Aunt Mary
THIS IS MY Great Aunt Mary. Although I only ever knew her as ‘Aunt Mary.’ When she was only 17, my dad Jim and his brother Dick—due to a family trauma—came to live with her and their grandparents on the farm near Douglas, Minnesota. Grandpa Frank died not long after, and Aunt Mary became, in effect, their mother. With everything that means. She also became the rock of the family, never marrying, always caring for others. She later became Grandma, effectively, to Bruce and Tom and me, though we always called her, Aunt Mary.
Aunt Mary held the Wood family together, through the decades, through sicknesses and deaths, Christmases and Thanksgivings, through a Great Depression and a World War. Dick was killed at the Battle of the Bulge fighting against Nazis/fascism. Meanwhile Aunt Mary worked as a postmistress, clerk, and for many years a schoolteacher—while also making turkey dinners and bologna sandwiches and fabulous apple pies. She dried many tears, wiped many noses, and tended many a skinned knee. She nursed my dad through polio and scarlet fever. She nursed us all through a great many things.
She passed away at age 83, not well-known, but as beloved and admired as a person can be. I was so very glad my Kathy got to know and love her. I wrote this book about her, about her 100-year-old rose bush, and how as a boy I learned to help tend it. Aunt Mary believed in people. She believed in strong, simple values, in good behavior, in kindness and decency. She believed in God, in neighbors and in country, and in the strength to always carry on and do what needs to be done.
I have been thinking about my Aunt Mary, a lot, these past few days. Missing her wisdom, her smile, her gentle strength. I wonder why? I miss you Aunt Mary. But I’m glad you’re still with me…