Lilabel
She was old the day I met her- the kind of really wrinkled up old I mean. She had a hearing aide and thick glasses, and she was the most exotic person I knew. She was never married. She lived by herself in a really cool San Francisco flat. She traveled in taxi's and on busses. She worked in a bank. She always wore dresses and heals and the kind of hose that required garters. She was my mother's father's sister. Her name was Lilabel, and we called her Lala.
I never knew her brother Dick, my grandfather. He died when my mother was still a young girl. He seemed perfect in all the pictures. A real Ward Cleaver type. I always wished we knew him. My brother Rich was named after him. I think Lala wished we knew him too. She was a good aunt to my mother, and a great aunt to us, pardon my pun.
She would come visit us. Just that alone was amazing, but she would come visit with a pink box from the bakery! And always a deck of cards, and chicklets or those melty mints with a jelly like filling. There were five of us, each 14 months apart, and we were wild indians (that's what they used to call misbehaved children). She would come and we would gobble up those most amazing bakery brownies in the most uncouth fashion. Then she would teach us to play cards, and she would play cards with us forever. She expected us to play by the rules, and we did. I know we fought with eachother, because we always fought with each other, but I don’t remember that part. I just remember learning to shuffle, and "no kibitzing!" and that our turn wasn’t over till we knocked on the table.
I think I only heard her swear a few times, and I think the only swear words she used were "damn" and "bastard". That was a noticeable oddity to me, because swearing was really common in our home and on our block. And she didn’t say it often, but when she did it was either to my dad, or about my dad. I think it was one of the reasons we kids liked her, not just loved her, the brownies accomplished that, but we liked her. We didn’t like too many adults. Partly because my dad was a "Damn Bastard".
My dad was a big brut of a man. Dick would have never approved, I’m sure Lala didn’t approve either. But Dick was dead, and my mom was a silly girl in love with a controlling man because of his movie star good looks. Several people tried to warn her not to marry him, but she was deaf to their warnings, and to the signals of danger ahead. She became pregnant soon after their nuptials, and was basically pregnant for the next 6 years. Five consecutive kids 14 months apart is a challenge for any family, but it proved impossible for my parents. It’s no wonder he snapped. He didn’t set out to be a “Damn Bastard”, he just was one.
Needless to say we had few visitors, the façade was thin, the explosions too frequent. Few were welcome, most preferred to stay away. Except Lilabel. She came, with her little pink boxes. She’d spend the night even. She slept in my room and snored something awful. I loved her snores so much, because I knew I was safe with her there in my room.
The Brut knocked her down once, when she tried to come between him and one of us. She yelled “Damn Bastard!”. I think even he was ashamed of himself for hitting a seventy year old lady. I don’t remember him ever hitting her again, I do remember her still coming back after that, with a pink box and cards and chicklets, many times, even when we were teenagers and didn’t seem interested in playing Kings in the Corner anymore.
So we moved on to scrabble. And after I was grown up I visited her often in her retirement home. I’d take her out to the market, she’d buy me lunch. We’d play Scrabble and Kings in the Corner. I’d eat her little melty mints with jelly like filling that she always had in a little crystal bowl. She would tell me about her brother and show me old pictures. She held my first born, her great great nephew. How precious it must have been to her, how many times she must have prayed for us. I wonder if she had any idea how much she was helping us just by showing up.
I love you Lala, thank you for being there. Thank you for coming back. Thank you for teaching us about love and family. I think of you often. I look forward to seeing you in heaven some day. I miss you.
