Let's move on to Aunt Letha and Uncle Ray now. I don't think it really means a thing, but I've noticed that I always say "Uncle Joe and Aunt Pauline," but reverse the order for Letha and Ray. But it is interesting (for me anyway) that I've had a much harder time writing about them. Joe and Pauline were so flamboyant with such strong personalities, it's actually hard to stop talking (or writing) those memories. There's always one more story about Joe and Pauline...I know it could go on for pages.
I'm going to suggest that Ray was a middle child...more toward the older than the younger end of the Weigel tribe. I would also suggest that Ray was an introvert. He wasn't unfriendly, nor was he unkind, he was just very quiet and as withdrawn as he could manage with only a newspaper between himself and whoever else was in the room. It was easy to forget that Ray was even there. He did say "Hello" as we came in and "Goodbye" as we left (with, no doubt a sigh of relief), but that was generally it.
Despite his frugal lifestyle...or, perhaps because of it, Ray was filthy rich. His oil wells gushed while Daddy's went dry. (I was very little then, but that fact was always a sore point with Mother). Letha grew up somewhere near Cimarron on a farm and then, after high school, became a secretary. I don't know how she and Ray met, but the two opposites did create a life together. Sometime when I was in grade school, Letha's father died, leaving her a healthy portion of Gray County. Even with that, the two of them continued to live as simply as they always had. Letha did dress well. She was always very stylish in a matronly sort of way. I don't know why women were "matronly" then. I think it was the undergarments, but it was difficult to tell 40 from 70. Pauline dressed exactly the same, but in much darker colors. Especially brown.
Despite having raised two children, Letha seemed to like me and, occasionally, invited me to spend the night with her and Ray. Spending the night with Letha (always a Friday) guaranteed a meal that included Banana Cream Pie. And Letha's Banana Cream Pie, I guarantee, was the best you would ever taste. In addition, I got to sleep in Barbara's bedroom in her high, soft, fluffy double bed and read as late as I wanted. Barbara must have had every Nancy Drew book, and I borrowed them all. It was heaven, I tell you. Heaven.
While Ray read his newspapers and monitored his investments, Letha played Bridge. And, she went to Philomath Club, and Ladies Day at the Country Club, and PEO and whatever else was available in those days. Letha was social, likable, thoughtful and loved Uncle Ray year after year.
Sadly, Letha's end was due to Alzheimer's Disease. The slow, steady, forever kind. Uncle Ray died in the spring of 1975 and Letha couldn't live alone. In contrast to Aunt Pauline, Letha was very good at writing checks, but household management would have been too much for her. And, Letha was totally addicted to cigarettes, but, as we learned, completely unaware of whether or not she was smoking one at any particular moment, and where she might have laid it down. My sweet, favorite aunt was a danger to herself and anyone else who might be in the house. Barbara would take Letha to Kansas City and find a nice retirement community for her to live in.
Mother was livid. Barbara was ruining Letha's life...snatching her from her friends, her bridge games, and her home. I felt terrible for Letha and had mixed feelings about Barbara. It was a bad time. None of us volunteered to take care of Letha, and none of us had any idea of the complexities of care for someone with dementia. The Who and the What and the When and the Where became overwhelming. Barbara was right. Letha could not be alone, and Dodge City had nothing for her.
Much later, I realized Mother's vitriol, which I always believed was directed at me, was really her reaction against the circumstances...neither me nor Barbara. Mother's best friend had dropped dead a few months before Ray's death had precipitated this crisis, and now Letha, her second best friend, was leaving. Poor Mother couldn't deal (well) with losing them both. It was terribly hard for her and I'm sure she was anticipating what her future might be as she aged.
As it turned out, Letha did very well in Kansas City. She found new friends, participated in activities, spent time with Barbara and her family, and continued to play Championship Bridge even though she had no idea where she was or, sometimes, who she was.
As I think about Letha, I can wax a bit philosophical and note that she had always been a woman who accepted what was. She could mold herself to the circumstances, find her niche and enjoy it. By contrast, Pauline was a fighter...a "My Way" type of person. When Pauline broke her hip and learned that she would have to move into a nursing home--at least until she was entirely healed...if, indeed, that was possible--she simply died. Pauline willed herself dead. Letha found new Bridge partners.
I'm going to suggest that Ray was a middle child...more toward the older than the younger end of the Weigel tribe. I would also suggest that Ray was an introvert. He wasn't unfriendly, nor was he unkind, he was just very quiet and as withdrawn as he could manage with only a newspaper between himself and whoever else was in the room. It was easy to forget that Ray was even there. He did say "Hello" as we came in and "Goodbye" as we left (with, no doubt a sigh of relief), but that was generally it.
Despite his frugal lifestyle...or, perhaps because of it, Ray was filthy rich. His oil wells gushed while Daddy's went dry. (I was very little then, but that fact was always a sore point with Mother). Letha grew up somewhere near Cimarron on a farm and then, after high school, became a secretary. I don't know how she and Ray met, but the two opposites did create a life together. Sometime when I was in grade school, Letha's father died, leaving her a healthy portion of Gray County. Even with that, the two of them continued to live as simply as they always had. Letha did dress well. She was always very stylish in a matronly sort of way. I don't know why women were "matronly" then. I think it was the undergarments, but it was difficult to tell 40 from 70. Pauline dressed exactly the same, but in much darker colors. Especially brown.
Despite having raised two children, Letha seemed to like me and, occasionally, invited me to spend the night with her and Ray. Spending the night with Letha (always a Friday) guaranteed a meal that included Banana Cream Pie. And Letha's Banana Cream Pie, I guarantee, was the best you would ever taste. In addition, I got to sleep in Barbara's bedroom in her high, soft, fluffy double bed and read as late as I wanted. Barbara must have had every Nancy Drew book, and I borrowed them all. It was heaven, I tell you. Heaven.
While Ray read his newspapers and monitored his investments, Letha played Bridge. And, she went to Philomath Club, and Ladies Day at the Country Club, and PEO and whatever else was available in those days. Letha was social, likable, thoughtful and loved Uncle Ray year after year.
Sadly, Letha's end was due to Alzheimer's Disease. The slow, steady, forever kind. Uncle Ray died in the spring of 1975 and Letha couldn't live alone. In contrast to Aunt Pauline, Letha was very good at writing checks, but household management would have been too much for her. And, Letha was totally addicted to cigarettes, but, as we learned, completely unaware of whether or not she was smoking one at any particular moment, and where she might have laid it down. My sweet, favorite aunt was a danger to herself and anyone else who might be in the house. Barbara would take Letha to Kansas City and find a nice retirement community for her to live in.
Mother was livid. Barbara was ruining Letha's life...snatching her from her friends, her bridge games, and her home. I felt terrible for Letha and had mixed feelings about Barbara. It was a bad time. None of us volunteered to take care of Letha, and none of us had any idea of the complexities of care for someone with dementia. The Who and the What and the When and the Where became overwhelming. Barbara was right. Letha could not be alone, and Dodge City had nothing for her.
Much later, I realized Mother's vitriol, which I always believed was directed at me, was really her reaction against the circumstances...neither me nor Barbara. Mother's best friend had dropped dead a few months before Ray's death had precipitated this crisis, and now Letha, her second best friend, was leaving. Poor Mother couldn't deal (well) with losing them both. It was terribly hard for her and I'm sure she was anticipating what her future might be as she aged.
As it turned out, Letha did very well in Kansas City. She found new friends, participated in activities, spent time with Barbara and her family, and continued to play Championship Bridge even though she had no idea where she was or, sometimes, who she was.
As I think about Letha, I can wax a bit philosophical and note that she had always been a woman who accepted what was. She could mold herself to the circumstances, find her niche and enjoy it. By contrast, Pauline was a fighter...a "My Way" type of person. When Pauline broke her hip and learned that she would have to move into a nursing home--at least until she was entirely healed...if, indeed, that was possible--she simply died. Pauline willed herself dead. Letha found new Bridge partners.
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