Mabel

Her last few years were spent in the shadows of dementia. When she was somewhat lucid, she used to say to me, "My shelf is full, and everything keeps falling off the front." I always thought that was a brilliant insight into her condition, because it was her short-term memory that went first. Eventually she lived from moment to moment with no concept of the past or of the future.

Mabel was born on April 12, 1905. Periodically, her father kept a diary. I have the diary he kept over that particular period of time. He would say from time to time that Lena, that's Mabel's mother, is not feeling well today. But he never mentioned her pregnancy. On April 12, he had one entry in large letters, "MABEL WAS BORN." The silence about Grandma Weaver's pregnancy was so typical of the sexual views of that family. Everything sexual in nature was always treated in a hush-hush manner.

Mabel grew up and was pulled from school to go to work. She always resented the fact that she was not allowed to get her High School Diploma even though my Dad, who was her younger brother, did finish high school. Later she attended a six-week bible course at Eastern Mennonite School in Harrisonburg, Virginia. That school is now Eastern Mennonite University. I think that experience was the high point of her life.

Mabel did not marry until she was 51 years old. But on March 9, 1956, she married Emanuel, a widower, and their marriage lasted until his death on February 1, 1983. They did celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary in 1981.

Mabel was not the easiest person to be with. She was very opinionated and tended to turn people off. For that reason I did not visit her as often as I should have. I somewhat regret that now. My dad did visit her every week after Emanuel died in 1983. She and Dad used to argue a lot when he visited, but he did hang in there with her until his death. He even visited her the morning he died in 1991.

When she was a young woman, she began doing some artwork. She made a number of oil paintings. I suppose one could consider her work as folk art. It was rather mediocre, but she enjoyed it. We still have one or two of her paintings hanging in our house.

Goodbye, Aunt Mabel. Bon voyage! My prayer is that the world you are now in is a much happier one than the one you left. If you see my parents and grandparents, give them my best. With love, your nephew, Jay.