My
Aunt Joan was possibly one of the most authentic people I’ve ever met. Aunt
Joan possessed both a canny intelligence and guileless world view. She was beautiful in an unadorned way and very
intact and self confident without a trace of arrogance. When visiting their beautiful Springfield, Massachusetts
home one time Uncle Charlie was explaining the new alarm system and added, “Your
Aunt Joan likes to help the less fortunate and gives them jobs in our
home. Sometimes they come back and steal.”
There
might have been 4 people left in Springfield
that didn’t know the alarm code.
Because, Aunt Joan and Uncle Charlie’s home was HOME central to family
and friends whether or not they were around.
And the heart of that home was the old scarred wooden table in the
kitchen. They had a formal, lovely
dining room – but everyone always gathered at the kitchen table, that’s where
family and friends go.
I
never remember my Aunt not doing something with her hands. She’d do something which allowed her to be
fully engaged in conversation but productive at the same time; like making one
of those braided New England rugs out of
material scraps. She had an amazing eye
for the beauty of old, beat up pieces of furniture and her home was a testament
to her remarkable vision. She’s restored
old treasures and created an “Architectural Digest” worthy home. In commenting about their home (which really
was once featured in a magazine) she would simply say, “Really, it’s just a
bunch of junk I found.”
While
she knew how to dress up for the many formal occasions she attended on my
handsome uncle’s arm (he being involved in politics and community always) my
Aunt Joan was most often seen in jeans and the type of clothing that suited the
day to day tasks indoor and out that kept her occupied – something suitable for
riding herd on her countless grandchildren.
Another
family gathering spot is simply called “The Farm.” It is a beautiful restored farmhouse in the
Berkshires dating back to the 1700’s on acreage that has provided home sites
for some of my cousins and their families too.
And, again, it is at the kitchen table where most visiting happens with
the adults while most of the kids are out at the pool. Aunt Joan had this quiet way of orchestrating
the schedule of events without ever needing to boss anyone around. She was a consummate matriarch although she’d
laugh if I ever told her that to her face.
How
she kept track of their 11 children, not to mention the extended families of
her two brothers and one sister, was legendary in itself. While a lifelong devout Catholic; she
retained a sense of humour with all the twists and turns of her families lives
and always saw the best in everyone. My
father, fondly called “Bud” gave new meaning to “black sheep of the
family.” Yet, he was always included in
the sanctuary of his sister’s home. In
his final years, back to being on his own, he would regularly walk the several
blocks over to Aunt Joan’s house for dinner – and without any communication
being needed she would have cooked enough for him….and often enough for him to
“take a plate home” for one of his drifter friends.
My
Aunt Joan was not impressed by celebrities or people in power. She had occasion to meet several presidents
while my Uncle Charlie was Springfield’s
mayor. Being an Irish democrat elected
to office back in the day of course, there is a great photo I saw of my Uncle
Charlie shaking John F. Kennedy’s hand.
I asked Aunt Joan if she’d met JFK and she paused to think before
replying, “I can’t remember, I met so many of those guys.” And, that was Aunt Joan in a nutshell. She was just as taken with someone passing by
on the street as she was with someone in power.
Aunt
Joan valued personal character. And, she
never gave up on anyone even if they took themselves in a wide orbit from her
home.
My
Aunt Joan has had a profound influence on my life. I am thankful she lived such a long and
magnificent life; a hugely impactful life.
She remains my hero, and doubtless the benchmark of excellence and
genuineness for many.
Uncle
Charlie has loved her all these years; adored is a better word. I have never seen modeled a love like theirs
and I reveled in hearing how it all started back in 1949. Whenever Uncle Charlie spoke about Aunt Joan
it was with nothing short of reverence.
He was throughout like a besotted teenager with stars in his eyes for
the girl of his dreams. He dedicated a
booklet outlining his vision for Springfield
to her. If memory serves it was “For
Joan, who is my everything.”
Doubtless
Uncle Charlie will most feel the absence of My Aunt Joan. While family will gather, support, hug and
uplift, to no longer look into the wise, kind and unmasked eyes of his beloved
will simply be heart shattering. But,
he’ll go on being valuable and practical – Aunt Joan wouldn’t have it any other
way.
Beth
McCarthy Marks
March
9, 2015
