Making It Right

I had some bad news while out for dinner with my family for our Christmas Eve tradition. My uncle called me to let me know that his girlfriend, who he lived with in Wisconsin, had died last Friday. My heart just sank for what he must be going through.

I didn't know Phyllis, but had spoken to her on the phone when I would call for Uncle Jerry and he wasn't there. She knew she was dying, and he had wanted to go back home, but wouldn't leave while she was like this. I understood, and also understand the pain he is going through now. No one should lose someone they care about during the holidays. But we can't always choose who we will lose, at what time and in what way. In a strange way, I feel like this was Phyllis' way of making things right so he could go home, like he wanted to. She had said many times that she wanted him to divorce my aunt and marry her instead. I knew before he ever told me, that that would never happen. I think Phyllis knew it too. No matter what happened over the years, my aunt and uncle would remain married. And so it is. There are a lot of people who wouldn't necessarily agree with the way my uncle has lived his life and the things he's done, but I chose a long time ago not to judge him. My own life has not been lily-white, and I have no room to judge others. Instead, I chose to accept him and his new life, even if it was flawed, as we all are. We have always been able to talk to each other... always close. My decision not to condemn him made us closer. I'm glad. No one should judge anyone else too harshly. After all, are YOU perfect? Thought not.

This brought something to mind that happened earlier this year. Whenever I am in Chicago, I try to spend some time with family, and my Aunt Marge had come in for this funeral. I hadn't seen her in 40 years, since I was a young teen. We were visiting at the home of my sister, "Little Miss Greed", when she said something to my Aunt Marge that horrified me. She was talking about Busia, my grandmother, and said that Busia "was a horrible person". I was stunned. How could she say such a thing? Whatever Busia was to anyone else, she was a good grandmother to ME. She came through time and again for me.

I remember one Christmas when I was young and we lived at the house on Oglesby. I asked Santa for a Barbie doll. Barbie was new at the time, and I wanted one so badly. Santa brought me a doll, but it wasn't a Barbie. It was a "Barbette". I was crushed. It may not have mattered to my mother (who bought this doll) whether it was a name-brand doll but it mattered to ME. But it might not have mattered at ALL if I were able to use regular Barbie clothes for the Barbette. The whole idea was to be able to dress up the doll. The thing was, Barbette was larger than Barbie, and so I couldn't use them. I had a doll that I would never be able to dress up. I don't know if I told her, or if someone else did, but that's when Busia went into action.

Despite losing the thumb on her right hand (an accident with a drill-press machine at work), Busia went to work and sewed clothes for my Barbette. There were suits, dresses, blouses and pants. I remember looking at them in amazement. She put snaps on them... teeny, tiny snaps... and even put snaps at the cuffs of sleeves so they wouldn't hang ridiculously. She made small collars, and crocheted sweaters and ponchos for the doll. Barbette was the most fashionable doll around. Busia loved me enough to do this for me... to make hordes of clothes for my doll so her granddaughter wouldn't be disappointed. She made it RIGHT for me.

A horrible person? Your premise is incorrect.

Merry Christmas and Nazdrovie'

Paczki Puta