In the Fullness of
Time
In 1995 my family published a cookbook. It was a work of
love and many of the family members, men and women, boys and girls
contributed. It was intended for family
members, but the interest was so great that many other people wanted copies of
the book as well. (It was sold at Book Nook in Monroe, MI). This cookbook was dedicated to the wonderful
Mother and Grandmother that we missed so much.
Intertwined with the recipes were stories and memories of Lena
Wickenheiser, many showing the impact this woman made on all our lives. She was a strong woman, who buried her
husband and infant daughter, raised 9 children during the depression, took in 5
orphaned nieces and nephews to raise as her own, and did all this with a cheery
disposition and a pocketful of prayer. She was a real prayer warrior!
When I sent in my contributions to the cookbook, I had to
think long and hard about one of the stories I was submitting. I even prefaced it with a disclaimer:
“My favorite story about Grandma Lena is one I never shared
before. It made me cry to write it
out. I hope others are touched by it
also. I always felt I was the only one
she shared this story with, and in a way, I hope that is true.”
(My aunts agreed I must have been the only one, since none
of them had heard it.) Here is my story.
Joe’s Coat
All the grandchildren must remember spending the night at
Grandma’s. I remember one special occasion when Grandma was first sick. Perhaps she had a premonition and had stories
to tell. I just felt very lucky to be
the one there that night, to hear the stories. She told of Grandpa’s courtship.
Howe her Pa told him she was too young. He said go away for year. She said he went away for a year, the asked
her Pa again. They courted in a horse
drawn buggy, and he gave her a lovely ruby necklace, she called it a lavaliere,
which she showed me. She also said the
necklace was to go to her youngest child, my Aunt Rita, who had the least
amount of time with Grandpa Gus. Grandma
hinted delicately of “marital duties” and talked about the hardships of marriage. Grandma faced every challenge with faith and
a stout back. After more memories of her
marriage and children, she started talking about her childhood. This was a something I had never heard
Grandma talk about before.
She told a poignant story of her earliest years. There was a
terrible diphtheria epidemic, and the house was quarantined. Many people perished, and her family was not
spared. When the disease entered her
home, the house was quarantined with a big notice place on the door. No one other than the doctor could enter or
leave. I don’t know how many of the family were affected, but I do know her
brother Joe was very, very sick. With
pain I could hear almost 80 years later Grandma told me that her brother Joe
had died. They were not allowed to leave the house for the funeral, and his
little body was placed outside for others to take care of. I suppose his things must have been burned,
for she said they didn’t have anything of his for a remembrance. Then she
smiled and said, “But I cut out a small piece from the pocket of his
coat.” Grandma said no one even
remembered Joe anymore. Almost everyone who loved him was gone. The story made me cry. Poor little Lena, poor Joe.
Later, in tidying up her affairs, she purchased some grave
markers. There were two grandsons who didn’t have permanent markers, and her parent’s
markers were aged into nothingness. She also tried to buy one for Joe. There
was some mix up in the cemetery records, and no record at the courthouse, and
no one could find his grave. She replaced her brother Eli’s marker with a stone
that had his name and Joe’s on it, and the dates she remembered for Joe. Grandma was very hurt that he could not be
located, and she thought her children did not believe her story. I can feel the
pain in her voice still today. She said
“I did have a brother Joe. I saved a
piece of his coat!” but she couldn’t find it anywhere. She sighed and said that
she would see Joe in soon in heaven anyway.
Sometime after her death, and after my own mother had died,
I was sorting through some of their things.
I came upon a small tin box of Grandma’s. A few trinkets, some army insignia, a
ring. There was an especially touching
yellowed envelope carefully and lovingly labeled “Clara’s Braids” (my Mom),
containing two small blond braids. And a piece of tattered cloth pinned to a
paper which read “Joe’s Coat.”
That was my story then. It was not used in the
cookbook. (the family was planning on
doing another book with longer stories…. I was glad it was still just my
story).
Since then all of Aunt Rita’s daughters, daughters- in-law,
and granddaughters have worn Grandma’s engagement gift, the ruby lavaliere on
their wedding days.
Flash forward to today.
I spent a couple of hours poring over microfiche looking for Grandma’s
Baptism record, which I found. Then I
was able to post the following on our family Facebook page.
“When Grandma W was ill, she talked about her brother
Joe. Any headstone was long eroded away,
and the grave was lost. Some of her children tried to find a record but
couldn’t. Grandma was very upset. She put a joint marker for him and her other
brother who died young; (Eli Napoleon Rivard 1890-1914) She felt no one would
remember Joe once she was gone. Today I
found his burial record on microfiche.
See Grandma. I didn’t forget
him. I will never forget you either.”
Rest in Peace Joseph Felix Rivard 1892-1897.
Rana Joblinski Willit
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