|My mom made his coat. Such a beautiful family.|
A few months later his folks move to a rent house. As I remember it was close to his first birthday. Chiffon pies were big that summer. Chiffon pies were dissolved Jello folded into whipped cream poured into a baked pie crust. The flavor depended on the flavor of Jello. Oldest Nephew was sitting in the high chair in the kitchen of the house just off Waddill St. He put a piece of the pie in his mouth only to begin searching for the food in his lap. The chiffon pie was so light he thought he had dropped it. The semi-circle of people watching the apple of our eyes, Oldest Nephew/Grandson, broke into laughter as we realized what had happened. Then he smiled that beautiful smile.
The faces of the family surrounding Oldest Nephew as he unwrapped his gifts have changed. Gone are his Dad, both grandfathers, Granny Mozelle and Great Granny Chandler. The faces of those still alive show the 57 years of living since that first birthday. The birthday man/boy is showing the years, too. Oldest Nephew has cirrhosis of the liver. Treatments are very limited and pain is ever present on his face. So this was a melancholy party as we sang the traditional song.
Rather than dwell on the sight of a person very ill with liver failure I choose to think of these images.