Aunt Selma at 92 in her comfy chair. Her audio player is to her right. A great reader, she's gotten mac degeneration and now listens to audio books from the library. On my last nite there, the two of us listened to Danielle Steele's "Journey." I read her the cover of the book. She asked me what "abridged" meant and I said "shortened."
The book was suspenseful and enjoyable, about domestic violence. Sitting in the den and listening to it w/Selma was possibly the most enjoyable thing I did in Cleveland.
Aunt Selma's tub. If she could see these pictures now, she would say in her broad midwestern drawl, Ruthie, why would anybody want to take a picture of the tub. Even my sister Donna commented on the old fixtures when she saw it. And that pink puff! Whew! There's a connection somewhere w/her son Mark's paintings of home interiors.
Selma's grandson Adam is marrying an Irish woman, Molly, from Buffalo. I'll tell you one thing about being part of this family: talk talk talk.
Uncle Marvin Greenwold. In WW2, he served in Belgium.
In the hot summers, I would ride my bike over to Marvin and Selma's and read sitting on the front steps. Dostoevsky and other gloomy Russians.
Selma has two kids, Mark and Linda. Linda lives 10 minutes away. She works as a roving miracle-worker at the JCC. Her good cheer and boundless energy help motivate the many octogenarians who frequent the place daily.
After work, she reports to her mom's house. She opens the mail for Selma and brings her food and medicine. She goes to the library and checks out piles of audio books for mom.
Selma is very organized. Since she's visibly impaired she uses clever strategies to make life easier. In the measuring cup, for example, she keeps her morning pills. She awakes at 11 - Why should I get up any earlier? she asks - I have nothing to do all day.
"Can't you talk to your friends on the phone?" I suggest.
"Friends! They're all dead," she says matter of factly.
Her mobility is very good. She climbs the steep stairs to the second-floor bathroom and her bedroom a couple times a day. I would climb the stairs on my belly due to sciatica, and finally camped out on the first floor, making the loveseat my bed.
Here's Mark Greenwold. He teaches at SUNY Albany.
Altho he looks dreadfully grim in his self-portrait, I'd describe him as cheerful and energetic. His candor is shocking and his humor will keep you laffing thru the funeral.
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