One of the things about having parents who both are from
large families is the number of aunts and uncles one gets to enjoy and learn
from growing up. I love(d) all of them,
and I cherish the lessons each one has taught me over the years in faith, hope,
and love.
My cousin Margaret posted a picture of her mom and dad on
Facebook today that got me nostalgic for their presence so much that I decided
to be late for work today (the boss is out of town anyway) and write a little
bit about each of them and what their influence on my life was.
Aunt “Gennie" was always there when anyone needed her.
In a family of 10 kids, Mom was born 1st, then Aunt Genevieve. I
can't tell you how many times Aunt Gennie came over to take us all to
Mass. Or to come and get my brother Tom
and I and let us spend the day with her while Mom and Dad were busy with
something else. Many, many times she
simply came over to visit Mom and keep her company.
Since
Mom didn’t drive until we moved to Lodi, Aunt Gennie was Mom’s “chauffeur” when
Dad was at work. She took my mom to the
cemetery every day for the first couple of weeks after Dad died, until Mom told
her she was OK with his passing and that they both needed to move on. After the first Northridge earthquake in
1971, Mom and I took Tom over to her house because it just seemed safer to us
than an upstairs apartment.
Eventually,
she and my Uncle Phil moved into the apartment across the parking lot from Mom
in Lodi and continued to help Mom and Grandma get to church, go grocery
shopping and provide support, until they both passed away. She was so kind and generous and giving.
January 3 is the feast day of St. Genevieve. Anyone who really knows me knows of my
devotion and reliance on the Saints of the Church to help me through life’s
experiences. When I was researching
Saint Genevieve this last January 3rd, I came across her icon (a story
of her life in a sacred picture using symbols instead of words). I could just as well as been looking at an
icon for Aunt Gennie!
The symbols associated with Saint Genevieve are:
A loaf of bread because she was generous to those in need.
(Just like my aunt!)
A coin suspended around her neck symbolizing her
consecration to God. (Aunt Gennie’s
devotion to God was second to none)
A candle which it said she used as she walked to church at
night and which stayed lit despite the devil’s attempts to extinguish it. (Like Mom, nothing shook Aunt Gen’s faith)
The clothing of a shepherdess because she grew up tending to
flocks. (As busy as she was with her own
family, she always made time to help Mom and Dad with their family as well)
St. Genevieve’s tomb
is at the church of Saint Etienne du Mon
in Paris, France. I don't believe in
coincidences. Etienne is French for
Stephen. No wonder I feel so
blessed. It seems like every time I
research something, the Holy Spirit sends me to resources to remind me that we
are all called to be saints, and that He has surrounded us with contemporary
saints, as well.
The descriptions I tend to use when thinking of Uncle Phil
are “quiet”, “brilliant”, “loving”, “humble” and, at times, “humorous.”
I never heard Uncle Phil raise his voice. Come to think of it, I never think of Uncle
Phil as a conversationalist in any sense of the word. In conversations around the dinner table and
at other family functions I remember Uncle Phil as the “listener”. This doesn’t mean he had nothing to say. Rather, he chose to humble himself and listen
to others first and give his input when asked.
At least that’s the way I saw it.
As a result of his humility, I
didn’t learn much about Uncle Phil until after my dad passed away and I spent
some time with him during my grieving process. I learned
that he had been in the Army and served with honor, and that he had been with
the Forestry Department for some time when he and Aunt Gennie were first
married. I also knew that like my dad,
he worked for Rocketdyne as they were developing the Atlas rockets that would
lead to the moon landings. What I didn’t
know was that Uncle Phil was a chemist!
As a teenager, that impressed me beyond all get-out! I am ashamed to admit that because Uncle Phil
was always a listener, I thought he had nothing of interest to say. Boy, was I wrong! As we grew closer at Dad’s passing, I found
out all I had to do was ask. He was a
veritable treasure trove of knowledge; not just the sciences but history,
current events, and math! He also knew
how to impart that knowledge without talking down to me, as a lot of grown-ups
tended to do with youngsters.
And, like Aunt Gennie he was
generous to a fault. Whatever he had was
yours. If you needed it more, he would
give it all to you. One of my favorite
memories of Uncle Phil was when I considered throwing out a favorite lamp I use
to have at my bedroom desk that I would turn on when doing my homework. I told my mom I didn’t have enough money to
buy a new one just like it. She
suggested I asked Uncle Phil to take a look at it. I left it with him and went to school. When I got home that afternoon, there was my
lamp with a brand new power cord and all shined up, looking like new! I don’t know why that impressed me so much,
but I remember thinking “He’s a chemist AND he can fix things!”
His faith life was also an
inspiration to me. He taught me through
example that one doesn’t need to shout from the rooftops their belief in God
and faith in His providence, but only live a faith-filled life and follow
Christ’s commandments to love one another.
No comments:
Post a Comment