Inheriting the Matriarchy

(I wrote this the day my aunt died. I'm publishing it today because when I read it again, it meant even more to me than the day that I wrote it. I hope it brings you comfort, or inspires, or that you just find it to be an interesting read. Thanks for clicking the link - I love to write and rarely share any of it. Deep breaths... here goes.....)

I come from a long line of strong, independent women and as of today marks five years that all of them are gone. My great grandmother, Busia, came to the US as a teenager and somehow figured out how to make a new life for herself out of nothing. My grandmother, Grammie, left high school for beauty school and worked as a beauty operator for the next 70 years. First in a salon in Detroit during years that saw economic prosperity, followed by race riots, followed by white flight and urban blight that destroyed that city. Her husband left her and she figured out a way to support 3 kids at a time that women couldn't easily do that. When she worked at the beauty salon, I remember sitting on the front porch of her house, waiting for her to come from work. When we spotted her VW Bug or her Chevette (years later), we would run to the car as it pulled into the driveway. After the shop closed, she took her skills on the road and would do hair for her clients who were now residents at nursing homes and assisted living centers and occasionally, patients in local hospitals. It's amazing that Gram lived to be 98 - the chemicals that she used when giving permanents and coloring hair were so caustic that she didnt have any fingerprints. We thought this was amazing and confusing but were sure it would help evade police if she was ever involved in a crime and police came to dust for prints afterwards.

Through it all, Grammie had her sister, Josie. We called her Cioci Jo and we spent a ton of time with her as kids, running between my Grammies house and Josie's house just a few doors down the street. Josie was a single mom too. And she was more of a strong, serious type. I remember her driving me to buy me new books (hardcovers!) as a kid, and I credit her with my voracious love of reading. She promised a new book (and a trip to the bookstore and lunch with her) in exchange for every book that I finished. Josie drove a big red Olds and worked at a pharmaceutical plant. I thought it was a glamorous and powerful career. I assumed she was super smart and a chemist or something. In actuality, i think she worked on the line in the manufacturing plant, spent long hours in the factory doing physically demanding work so that she could support her son, help my Grammie, and buy us books and Chiclets. I remember when Josie died because she was the first death I had ever experienced. But I remember most clearly my mom, my aunt, and gram caring for her during those final years as she struggled with Alzheimer's and all the painful effects of that disease.

Then there were the twins - Patricia (my mom) who was blindsided and had her life turned upside down when my dad walked out when I was in junior high. My mom could light up a room, bring laughter to situations at the most inappropriate times, and loved fully, deeply, and with reckless abandon. She believed that all 3 of her kids could have anything we wanted in life, even though the same was not true for her. She made me believe that I had magic in me from as early as I can remember and I actually grew up believing that she believed that my potential in school and life had no limits. Never underestimate the power of someone believing in you. We lost my mom when she was only 46. Cancer. A brutal end to a hard life, dotted with joyous events and memories, weighed down by struggle and unrequited love. But through it all, she always had my aunt, her twin, Elaine.

I grew up spending a lot of my summer days and nights with Aunt Elaine and Uncle Tony. Between my mom and Elaine, there are 7 kids. We have always been more like siblings than cousins - a dynamic that I have always cherished and relationships that helped make my moms death survivable for me. After my dad walked out, my mom and Elaine, both armed only with high school diplomas and killer sewing skills, started a company together- a bridal store. That store can be credited with equal measures of joy and pain for the decade that followed, right up until my mom got sick. But it also can be credited with supporting both women, their families, and setting an example for all of us of how to use only your own two hands to build something out of nothing, all for the promise of creating a better life for your kids and ultimately, their kids too.

We lost Aunt Elaine exactly five years ago today. That is incredibly sad in itself, especially given the repeat experience of the brutal and inhumane trajectory of death by cancer. But today is a reminder that the torch was officially passed, and the matriarchy shifted on that day to my generation.

To Elaine, to mom, to Josie, to Busia, and to my beloved and cherished Grammie... we love you all, we miss you all dearly and we will never forget all that you have given to us. May strong women, against all odds, prevail always. And I hope that you were all standing there together with open arms five years ago, welcoming Elaine to the promise of an endless universe filled with magic, love, beauty, and laughter that exists beyond our mortal life on earth.