My father was born when his father was 47 years old. All of his siblings were teenagers then. His mother died when he was three, and so he
lived with his aunt and uncle until he was seven. Nevertheless, he became very close with his
oldest brother, Cecil, who was 16 when my father was born, and in his twenties
when my dad came home in 1941 to live again with his family.
The first time I remember meeting Cecil was when I was a
little kid at my aunt Betty’s house down in Anderson ,
Indiana .
He came alone, wore a fedora, and brought bananas, which seemed strange
to me, and yet very funny. I could tell
immediately that he was a smart and congenial guy and that I liked him. He held me on his lap and he talked to me not
like I was a child, but like I was a real person. I liked that.
Cecil was very heavily involved in the Lions Club and so
every once in awhile he would come up from Indiana
to Chicago for a convention and
stay at our house. Those were fun times.
One night when I was a little boy he came in with my dad and his tie had
been cut off about halfway. As he lied down with sheets and blankets on the
couch for the night, I asked him, “Uncle Cece, how did that happen that your
tie got cut off?” He groggily smiled and
replied, “Don’t ever bet bar waitresses, Tommy. You’ll lose your tie.” He gave
me a rub on the head and then he went to sleep.
When I was a junior in high school I thought about going to Indiana
University , so my Dad and I went to
visit the campus and then stayed with Cecil and his wife, Jean, who I also
loved. She was a librarian and one of
the easiest people to talk to I have ever met.
She knew I liked books and writing so every year on my birthday she
would send me a novel or some non-fiction thing that she thought was
interesting and would catch my interest too.
On the night that we visited, Cecil, who was retired by then, he showed me all of the things he was working on, or had accomplished. He showed
me pictures of the boat he sailed on out at the reservoir; he showed me the
wine he had made; he showed me the big loom he had made so that he could create
tapestries; he showed me the layout for the physical fitness course he was
designing for his town, and he showed me the published book he wrote on making
rocking horses. It was fascinating.
Later on, he and my dad went out on the patio to talk, and
so Jean and I sat in the kitchen rolling out dough for pies. We talked and talked too. We talked about books mostly. We kept putting
the product into large and then increasingly smaller dishes. I think the last
one was no more than four inches in diameter. I asked my Aunt Jean, “How many
pies do you think we can make out of this?” She looked around us and said, “Well,
if I had the fillings I think we could make about thirty. That’s not going to
happen. It’s good but also very bad when
you and I talk.”
The next morning on the patio as Cecil and I were drinking
coffee, he said to me, “T.S., if you go to Indiana ,
and I am to be your second father, there will be rules about your behavior, but
here is the big rule. You never limit
yourself. You explore everything you can
and then decide what you want to pursue.
Then when you decide what you want to pursue, the things you are
interested in, you do it with enormous vigor.”
I did not go to Indiana ,
I went to Illinois . I started as
a pre-med and then swiftly changed my major to English because all I wanted to
do was read and write. On my birthday
that year Cecil and Jean sent me a hardcover version of The Hotel New Hampshire by John Irving. Cecil stuck a note in the book. It just said, “Make good choices. I know that
you will.” I did. I made good choices and finished well in
school. I also met a girl who I decided
I wanted to spend my life with. After some time, and for some inexplicable
reason, she also decided that she wanted to spend her life with me.
Cecil and Jean came to my wedding. In the receiving line
after the ceremony Cecil gave me a hug and said, “I’m glad you married a
Lutheran. They don’t waste anyone’s time. Twenty minutes and we’re done. That’s
perfect.” Jean hugged me also and said, “I’m slightly disappointed. I expected less traditional readings. I
thought you would have more Vonnegut in there.” That made me laugh…It was pure
Jean.
Just about the time my oldest son, Ben, was born, Jean died.
I went to her funeral alone because my wife had taken Ben down to another
funeral for one of her great-grandparents in Louisiana ,
which is where she was born. When I saw Cecil I was shocked. He looked so frail….a weak, bloated old man
on an oxygen tank, who couldn't even wear shoes. It made me very sad to see him like that. Yet
I could see in his face the same intelligent, sweet guy who offered to be, and
always was, my second father. That made
me happy.
After the service my siblings and my father went back to
Cecil’s son, John’s house. John is an
attorney, but he is also a master guitarist.
We had lunch together, I talked to John’s daughters, who were very young
at that time, John played, and it was all quite beautiful. At one point Cecil called me over to where he
was sitting on the couch. He basically
said to me the same thing he had said to me on the patio so many years before.
“I know you’re working now, have a family and a career, but look at me, look at
your dad, look at John. Don’t limit yourself. Stay close to your passions.”
A week after Jean died, so did Cecil. My dad called me and simply said, “Sorry,
bud, but Cecil, didn't make it.” After we talked a bit, I wandered the house aimlessly,
alone, in a fog because my second father, who I loved, was gone.
Over time I have heard stories about how Cecil was a hellion
and a hooligan in his youth. I don’t care about that. I didn't know him then. When I think of Cecil,
and I do often, I think about the things he told me throughout my life. I think
about what he accomplished. Despite what is going on in my life right now, I always
remember what his key message was to me and I am sure many others: There are no
limits to what you can imagine and can accomplish in this world.
Tom, what a lovely surprise to learn that you are now blogging. I have read and enjoyed all three blogs you have posted so far.
ReplyDeleteI love you dearly, my friend, and look forward to reading your posts.
Kelly Ann.
Thank you, Kelly Ann! It's a start. I love you, friend.
DeleteBeautiful memory Tom. I think I shall remember Cecil and Jean forever now. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, I have just discovered your blog. I think it is brilliant! I am currently reading them ALL to try and quickly catch up. I know when I am finished with the catch up, your blog will become my weekly read of inspiration, joy and love. So happy to see you writing dear friend. Love you so much.
Yours Very Truly,
Anne
Beautiful memory Tom. I think I shall remember Cecil and Jean forever now. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, I have just discovered your blog. I think it is brilliant! I am currently reading them ALL to try and quickly catch up. I know when I am finished with the catch up, your blog will become my weekly read of inspiration, joy and love. So happy to see you writing dear friend. Love you so much.
Yours Very Truly,
Anne