AUNT MARY LOU

   If you name your child Mary Lou, you have pretty much mapped out what type of person you will get.  A Mary Lou will be a bit of a hell raiser, quick with a quip, speak her mind and never be middle of the road (the same can be said for a Vinny, Lou, Patti spelled with an I and Wanda).

   I have an Aunt Mary Lou.  She is my mom’s older sister and has been part of my life since I can remember.  She is in Applewood Nursing Center now, and struggling.  It is tough for her and tough for everyone who cares for her, especially my Mom.  Mary Lou is the last living member of my Mom’s family growing up, her parents and twin brother having died some time ago.  

   Aunt Mary Lou’s current difficulties belie the life she lead.  Her legend has come to me through both direct observations and story.  These are some of the stories that go into making a Mary Lou:

*As a young adult, Mary Lou would ride the train from Detroit to Chicago just to party with the World War II troops going between those two cities.  To my knowledge, she did not have any other destination other than fun.  Destination reached.

 *In my earliest memories of Aunt Mary Lou, she is wearing loud print dresses and oversized earrings and necklaces, sporting what she always termed her “Italian hair-do” (long I sound on Italian, if you please).  I can see her at family Christmas parties dancing into the kitchen using an empty holiday plate in one hand as a prop.

*When the after affects of surgery left Mary Lou with a severely enlarged arm, she did not hide it in embarrassment or get pissed if anyone noticed.  Instead she laughingly referred to this enlargement as her “bionic arm”  and hinted at its possible use as a weapon.

*Church at St. Francis Xavier in Ecorse was a big part of Mary Lou’s life.  Though she could not drive ( thinking back, I never recall her driving and am not sure if she ever had a license), Mary Lou made it to church most Sundays with rides from my Mom or my sister Chris.  On one particular Sunday, Chris picked her up and was stunned to see that Aunt Mary Lou’s carefully penciled in eyebrows were colored a shocking bright blue.  Everyone was careful not to mention this change, though my brother Tony did secretly dub her “Aunt Mary Blue.”

*Aunt Mary Lou had a difficult time in church using her inside voice.  Not a big deal unless she was commenting on something that did not suit her fancy.  When a cell phone went off during mass, the only sound louder than the ringtone was Mary Lou’s admonishment that, “That is the rudest thing I ever heard.”  When a churchgoer showed up in a tank top, Mary Lou loudly observed, “It looks like she is going to a weenie roast.”

*Upon seeing Aunt Mary Lou at a family function, my daughter Rachel asked, “How are you doing Aunt Mary Lou ?”  Her reply, “Everyone I can sweetie, and the good ones twice.”  Rachel has never forgotten this.

   This is no eulogy, Mary Lou is alive and doing the best she can with the help of family and dedicated health care workers.  The reason I write this somewhat rambling list of memories is threefold:

1. Lesson for all you youngsters:  When you see an old timer with baggy eyes, loose neck skin and hair sprouting from their ears, chances are the person inside that wrinkled suit of skin has a past that could make your toes curl.  Be careful what you say to that person, they may have enough vitality and memory left for one last ass kicking.

2. If you meet a person named Mary Lou (or Vinny, Lou, Patti with an I or Wanda), stick close.  You’ll probably be in for a wild ride.

3. If you find the face looking back at you in the morning mirror aging, don’t despair.  You still have a reflection, after all.  And, no matter what name you were given at birth, if you live your life like a Mary Lou, chances are the people you bump into along the way will be better for the bumping.  There will always be plenty of routine and mundane, and not enough Mary Lou.

Cheers! Jim