It's funny how things
come to you. The other day I flashed back to when I was a kid and
spending time with a woman who I called "Aunt" Winnie. (She
wasn't a blood relative, but you know what I mean) This came about as I
was listened to a sermon about bread. That may sound strange but the particular
passage that was being used (John 6:35, 41-51) mentions a lot! (Check it
out for yourself!) The priest spoke in great length about bread, particularly
how it was important at his family's table. He reflected back on a restaurant
where he went with his family called The Afton. When he mentioned that
restaurant a light just went off in the back of my head. I remembered
that I had gone to the same restaurant several times; always (only) with
"Aunt" Winnie. I hadn't thought about that in years because wasn't a
restaurant that was really close by to my home. (And it turns out it no
longer exists...replaced by a bank. Ugh!) Then he mentioned the
restaurant's sticky buns memories from 30 or more years ago came flooding
back.
I'm probably one of the
youngest people who remembers Winnie. (Not that I'm young.) She taught
piano so maybe there are some younger who have vague recollections, but I'm
betting most of them have blotted that time out of their minds. Winnie
wasn't a bad person, but she was a selfish person. I don't say that
to be mean, I say it because I see it as true and a commentary on what you
might NOT want your life to be.
What do I know about
Winnie? Not much. I had to search for her obituary from 2005 and it
wasn't an easy find. But then Winnie wasn't an easy person. Her
obituary (which reminded me that she was actually F. Winifred), was less
than one hundred words long and didn't include her date of birth (I'm sure that's
what SHE wanted) or any real personal information other than where she had
resided and who she had been married to.
What I vaguely know is
that she and her husband (who I never really knew; I believe he was quite ill
during my lifetime) were friends of my maternal grandparents. I believe
they vacationed in Cape Cod at the same hotel for a while. Was that a
result of them living in the same town for a while? Winnie and her
husband (who I believe was an executive at Bell back when it was THE phone company)
moved to "more impressive" town and belonged to an exclusive country
club.
Winnie was all about
appearance. Things had to be done the "proper" way (her
way). She wouldn't leave her home until her hair and makeup was
done. She didn't wear pants and certainly never went without panty hose
and pumps. And this was the case even if it was an emergency. (I
say this from experience; there were times when my mother or I would have to
rush her to the ENT for an urgent issue, but despite the emergency, she STILL
wouldn't go until everything was "just so." She was a woman of
the time when everything was done in a certain way. You dressed a certain way
you put on your makeup a certain way you didn't had your hair done once a week
at the salon. You didn't go out unless you were dressed appropriately. She was
very much a stickler for the way things should be done and she was very eager
to tell you how things should be done. Her way with the way things should be
done and that was that.
So what does all of this
have to do with the restaurant and sticky buns mentioned in the sermon?
When I was a pre-teen or a teen (not sure which, I was in middle school at the
time) for some reason I would regularly go out to dinner at The Afton with
Winnie. It was always a Saturday night. I would, of course, dress
up. (It goes without saying that she was "dressed.") I
think my mom would drop me off at her house with an overnight bag and then
Winnie and I would drive from her house to the restaurant in Florham
Park. I don't know why we went there. It was a good 10 miles away
from her house (and further from mine). I know I didn't rate going to the
country club for dinner, but...
She was a picky
eater. Again, appearances meant EVERYTHING and she was a small, slender woman
who was always dressed "appropriately." I don't recall what we
ate, but I do know that she would eat the sticky bun. She might have even
eaten mine or brought it home. (Due to my allergies I couldn't eat
it.) I don't think the restaurant was particularly expensive, but it fit
her bill of acceptable places to dine and as far as I recall, we never ate
anywhere else. I my memory (which has definitely faded), it was a special
place. Did she have some sort of tie to this restaurant? Was the place where
she and her husband went? I have no idea but it was the only place that we
would go. I never thought to ask why I just went.
After dinner we would go
back to her house. And we would watch TV in her little den. I'm really
dating myself by saying we would watch The Love Boat and
maybe Fantasy Island. Then we would go upstairs to sleep. I
slept in a larger guest room that I think maybe a relative of hers had once
stayed in or lived in. She slept in a very small bedroom across the
hall. When I think about it it's really quite odd because it was a large master
bedroom suite downstairs that abutted the den. I don't think she ever sleep
there. However she did use the dressing room and the bathroom down there when
she was getting ready in the mornings. It was quite a suite with a huge
closet full of clothes. (Something I can appreciate now.) They were beautiful
clothes. Everything was hung up perfectly and meticulously and dry cleaned and
I just can't imagine anyone doing that now, but...
I believe my mother
would pick me up on Sunday after breakfast. I don't remember much other
than that we always had toast with grape jelly. These Saturday night
sleep overs stopped around the time I was in high school. I'd say it's
because as a teen I had a social life, but that's not really true.
As you might have
guessed, she and her husband had no children and that's probably for the best.
She he was very rigid and particular. I think that would have been very
difficult for a child. For example she taught piano and she would hold a
recital at the end of the school year for her students. She would have 20 or so
children from the age of five to maybe 15. She expected them all to sit
quietly in folding chairs and listen to each other play without any fidgeting. What
kind of child could do that? She didn't understand children at all, which is
probably why she asked me to help her when I was older. I think the kids
were grateful to have me there.
As you might have guess
she was accustomed to living a certain style and unsurprisingly as she reached
the end of her life, financially she couldn't maintain that style. It was a
bitter reality. She ended up having to sell her house and moving
into a senior facility where she lived her remaining years.
She died in March of 2005.
I remember it being very cold. At the time my parents would spend several
months in Florida, so I was the one who represented the family. Prior to
the funeral, I spoke to our minister. We may have belonged to the same
church, but I don't recall her ever coming to a service (although her
photo was in the church directory). He didn't really know her (did anyone?) and
I didn't have much to tell him.
There was snow on the
ground that day. There were four of us in attendance. Her executor,
my aunt (my father's sister), the minister and myself. That was it.
Three of us (my aunt, the minister and myself) drove from the funeral parlor to
the cemetery for a very brief service. That was it.
I hadn't really thought
about her much since her death. It took the mention of the restaurant The
Afton and the sticky buns for all these memories to come back. I ended up
today taking a long walk and going by her house which is in the next town over.
I wonder what the people who live there now are like. I saw that there was a
soccer net on the lawn and I think about how appalled she'd be to see that.
She'd be appalled at much of the world now. And I think she’d be
disappointed that you still can’t put your wet laundry in the dryer and have it
come out not just dry, but folded because that’s what she expected.
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