When I was a kid it seemed like I had a million aunts and uncles. My father's mother Nana was one of ten children, five boys and five girls. The aunts were: Aunt Sadie, who lived to be 84. I have a note from her at age 80 when she was still working, watching three children. I had sent her a Christmas picture of the kids and she said she had red hair like Ria when she was a kid. Aunt Sadie always remembered our birthdays. A card carrying a dime would arrive right on time. She lived in Connecticut so we didn't see much of her, but you could always count on that card and that dime. Aunt Mae lived in Glenham, married to Mitt Moseman with three boys. She was a tiny woman with a gray bun, always wearing an apron, and most often sitting in front of the tv watching wrestling. Aunt Gert shared my twin sisters birthday, so every year she would come to their party, with TWO store bought cakes. Gert died young of cancer. Aunt Mina lived in California, so I don't remember even meeting her. I had even forgotten her name and that now Kathleen's granddaughter is named Mina, I find that interesting. The Uncles are less memorable, one died before I was even born. But I do remember stories about Uncle Sam and Uncle Teddy. These were just my father's aunts and uncles on his mother's side.

Nana had five children, Daddy, Joe who died young, Uncle Ed who died last year at 96 and two girls, Aunt El and Aunt Grace. Aunt El was my favorite aunt, made wonderful toll house cookies and gave beautiful gifts for all the holidays. Aunt Grace lived on Long Island, but later moved to Glenham so I got to know her better. She had her last two children, girls, late in life. At 41 years she had Margaret and at 45 she had Ellie. She was very cheerful, with a big smile and lived to be 84.

My Grandmother had a brother Joe, Great Uncle Joe that lived in the city. When we visited him and his wife Rose we were warned to be quiet because Uncle Joe had been gassed in the war, MUSTARD gas, which we thought was kind of funny. Her sister Mary lived in the city too, was custodian for an apartment building, lived in a basement apartment. I remember visiting and not seeing a handle to flush the toilet with. My mother showed me a string hanging from the ceiling that you pulled. Aunt Mary was a good cook. I remember her creamed potatoes with dill. Aunt Anna lived in New Jersey, married to Uncle Arnold. When they visited they would bring their dog, a little dachsund and Uncle Arnold would be told to go climb up Mount Beacon while the sisters talked. There was another sister Julia, but she lived in Arizona I believe so I only heard about her and saw pictures of her as a beautiful young woman.

Poppy had a sister Pauline that lived nearby, and Mrs. Pipi (we called her Mrs Peepa or Peepot) who lived in the city. There were two brothers, Uncle Steve and Uncle Cy but I can't remember them. Mrs. Peepa also was a good cook, and I remember eating golden rice at her house. How does it get this color? someone asked and the answer was goose fat. Delicious.

Bucky had two brothers, Uncle Joe who married Aunt Rose. Aunt Rose was from an Italian family, a good cook, and put up with Uncle Joe's antics, with just a shake of her head, and an "oh Joe". Uncle Eddie married Aunt Muriel. She was from Montreal and spoke French and wore makeup and fancy clothes. She drank wine and smoked cigarettes and called him Ed Dee and he called her Mur EE ALE. They lived in Vermont and then moved to Florida, where for the past fifteen years or so I would visit them on our Florida trips. Aunt Muriel wore a hearing aid and Uncle Eddie would hollar at her...."turn it down, Mur EE ALE. You're buzzing".

So that's my aunts and uncles. I probably forgot some, but my point is that at one time, and it doesn't seem that long ago, I had aunts and uncles a plenty. Yesterday my Uncle Ed died in Florida. This leaves me with one uncle, Uncle Joe who is 90 and lives in Beacon and Aunt Alice who was married to my father's brother and is almost 90.

My kids still call my sisters and brother with the title Aunt or Uncle and John O'Leary, my godson at age 50 still addresses me as Aunt Linda. Aunts and Uncles are so special, and play such a part in our lives, but few books are written about them (oh there's Auntie Mame) and they are kind of the unsung heros and heroines of our families. Playing the role of our father or mother's sisters and brothers, they help complete the family picture. Rest in peace Uncle Eddie.
Rest in peace all of you.

OK, let me report to you on The Eskimo Twins. When I first started to reread it, I was reading as a cynical, feminist - the first chapter introduces the twins, Menie and Monnie, (Monnie is the girl) and to quote: "They would have thought it luckier still if Monnie had been a boy, too, because boys grow up to hunt and fish and help get food for the family." I snarled, "No wonder I have no self esteem, brought up in an Irish Catholic family, one of five daughters whose father used to say, "in China they drown baby girls" and then I had to read this garbage to reinforce my feminine worthlessness." Oh, I was hard on Lucy Fitch Perkins.

Then I started to read it for the story, so what if the women had to pull the dead bear back into town. So what...women have been cleaning up messes that men started forever and will be doing it forever. So what if the medicine man is a pain-in-the-ass that uses his power to control the villagers (there are only five families) and gets to keep the best pieces of the kills. He's so fat he gets stuck in the tunnel leading into Monnie's igloo. The kids know he's a phony..Menie says, to his mother, If the Angakok (medicine man, leader, whatever) can go anywhere he wants to, why couldn't he get out of the tunnel?" Like the kid exclaiming the Emperor has no clothes on, Menie wasn't taken in by the old liar. Maybe Lucy was telling us to question authority.

The story starts in the winter, dark all the time, then it becomes summer and the whole village climbs into the Woman Boats and goes to a green, grassy, flower filled valley, where the salmon are spawning. They pack everything they own into these boats (kind of like us going to Cape Cod) and set up tents there and fish and hunt and play for four months. Their lives are so simple, without night and day, they just call the passage of time "sleeps" - five sleeps ago this happened or two sleeps ago that happened. And the love and care they have for each other is heartwarming, each sharing what they have, each pulling his own load with an eye out for their neighbor at all times.

Back in their winter home, the mother tellls the children, "The Giants are always waiting before the igloo and we must work very hard to keep them outside" - and they know she doesn't really mean giants, she means the Hunger and Want are always waiting to seize the Eskimo who doesn't work all the time to provide for himself and his family. Now that's a lesson we have not learned or taken to heart. What's in it for me? How can I beat the system? Never heard or thought of from an Eskimo.

So, all in all, I am still happy with the Eskimo Twin book, maybe I even enjoyed it more than 60 years ago. And today, it even hit 34 degrees, first day above freezing - and you know what? it's even lighter earlier. Cape Cod here we come.

Sunday, yesterday, was the fourth day in a row that I didn't go out of the house, just once next door to Sabra's and a trip to the Tivoli Thrift Shop on Saturday. But no car out of the garage. Yesterday it started to get to me. I looked at all the Christmas curios (junk) in the window and thought only of clutter. I looked at the manger scene on the nearby table and thought "that looks more like an oversold rock festival than a manger scene". (I can't resist buying more and more manger figures, there are about 5 Marys and the Wise Men are a crowd, not three.) Anyway, I guess that is what "Cabin Fever" does to you- you get sick of your surroundings.

When I was a kid going to the Howland Library the children's section was way in the corner, you had to pull a cord to get the light to go on so you could find a book. At one time I was hooked on the Twin Series, 26 books by Lucy Fitch Perkins (1865-1937). She wrote about twins around the world, The Irish Twins, The Dutch Twins, Japanese, Mexican, even cave twins. The twins were almost always a girl and a boy (one time they were both boys) and I got drawn into their worlds, so different from mine. The book I loved the best was the "Eskimo Twins", the girl was Monnie and the boy was Mennie. They lived in an igloo, freezing cold, dark half of the year and yet they had the best times....playing in the snow, tracking polar bears, jumping on a fur skin held by the men in the village. I loved their life and wanted to be an Eskimo. A typical scene in the igloo would feature their mother sitting in a corner, making a needle out of a whale bone, their grandmoter chewing on a fur to tenderize it....God it was so exciting.

I just looked up the author, that's why I have that little bit of information, and her books were reprinted in the early 2000's. Then I checked the Tivoli Library, and sure enough, there was the Eskimo twins, so I requested it, and will let everybody know if it still has the appeal that it did 60 years ago. Also, it just might make me appreciate the winter a little bit more.

Hard to believe this year is ending in a few hours. It wasn't a bad year - all things considered, the economy (I guess that says it all) the economy with all its concerns and uncertainty. But here are what I myself consider the best things of 2009.

(1) The Wacky Raft Race. When I first told my family this was my favorite thing of the year, they looked at me like I was crazy. But it was wonderful. Being on that little raft, in the middle of the river, just trying to make it to Catskill made for an exciting, amusing, exhausting, exhilerating experience. And we made it - did not even consider quitting. My family at their best. And being on that raft, with just my family, for all those hours, was more time than we have spent together, alone, in a long time. Sabra is already planning our next wacky race.

(2) Maribeth giving me the woodpecker painting. So unexpected, so kind, so touching. God Bless you Maribeth and family. Everytime I look at it, it makes me happy.

(3) Meeting Caleb Potter at the Oysterfest. After all those months, in which he played the invisible but prominent role in our family, in our thoughts, in our prayers, the boy that survived. In some way his recovery, his continued recovery gives hope. And he looked so good, and kissed me, I can still feel the stubble of his beard. God Bless you too Caleb. I continue to read his mother's blog and keep him in my thoughts and his Christmas card to me is placed with honor near Maria's picture.

(4) The week in Wellfleet with my family. The Monkey Party, the snail race, laughing in bed with my sister Maureen, the surprise visit of John O'Leary and family, the mermaid sand lady, all the experience - even being in the same cottage that I had shared with Ria for her last trip to the Cape - like the commercial says "priceless".

(5) Sharing with Margaret her last year with us. Zach's pirate show in Catskill, eating the boxed supper after the show down at the Park, drinking a beer with her on my birthday, walking with her at the Street Painting, and finally speaking and sharing at her memorial. Rest in Peace Margaret.

I probably will think of another hundred or so things that I should have included, but right now I am happy with the above. Happy New Year - bring on 2010. God Bless.

This morning, before eight, I went to watch Sabra's boys open their presents and on the way home I heard the loud rat-tat-tat of a woodpecker, a big woodpecker sound. Could it be the piliated woodpecker? Yes, he flew right over my head and then from the back yard the loud squawk of another woodpecker, and another piliated woodpecker flew over. My heart pounded as I got this rush, this feeling that Maria was saying Merry Christmas Ma. A wonderful gift on this gray but beautiful Christmas morning.

Today, Christmas Eve, I received a card from Cape Cod, from Caleb. This is what he wrote:

Ho Ho Ho !!!! Merry Christmas to you and your entire family...& I hope you get every gift you wish for.....soooo have a great holiday !! & thank you!!! (Drawn heart) Caleb! (15 little drawn hearts).

And I just want to say Ho Ho Ho Merry Christmas to all. God Bless us all and give us peace and good health in the next year. (Drawn heart)

Today I was remembering a Christmas six years ago, a hard Christmas for Maria because she had to make life defining decisions for her Godmother and Aunt, Aunt Lillian. Lillian was in the hospital in Poughkeepsie and the staff was adamant that this time she was not going home. She had to go to a Nursing Facility. Although there is usually a long waiting line, and lots of foot work and paper work, Maria managed to get her in Northern Dutchess, close to Maria's home. Lillian was admitted a week before Christmas. Maria followed the ambulance that brought her to Rhinebeck. As they were getting Lillian out of the vehicle, one of the men said to Maria, "Boy, that Aunt of yours is a real pisser" and told her that before they took off, Aunt Lillian said to the two men, "Boys, can you do something for me? Make a stop for me?" The men thinking that she wanted some magazines to read or personal items, said sure, and Aunt Lillian said, "Take me to the Poughkeepsie Bridge. I want to jump off."

Aunt Lillian seemed to adjust well the first day. The dietician came up to ask her what she liked to eat. "Oh, said Aunt Lillian, "I'm a vegetarian. But I would love a lamb chop." Because they rushed her into the Nursing Home, she had to share a room. She didn't like this and neither did the woman with her, who called her a "Princess" and would talk aloud to herself about the "spoiled princess". I let her get settled and went to see her after two days. Maria was in her room with her. Her roommate was wheeled out to see the Christmas Pageant, loudly discussing how the "princess doesn't want to go to the show like everybody else. Trying to make small talk, I told Maria that I had heard the coyotes the night before. Aunt Lillian looked up from the bed. Coyote? Uncle Phil had a coyote during the war. He carried it around with him." Maria and I exchanged looks and then Aunt Lillian asked for a cup of tea. Maria offered to go and get it and said she wanted to see the Christmas pageant anyway. Lillian and I had a nice talk, about family and old times and Maria came back with the tea. Later, going home Maria said the Pageant was beautiful, sad but beautiful, with the players being the patients. The three wise men came in on wheel chairs and Ria had tears in her eyes when she said one old man had a big bandage on his head, but a great big smile.

Maria was called in daily to calm Aunt Lillian down, who was not happy to be there and even managed for her to get a private room. The day before Christmas a nurse told Maria to stay home tomorrow, spend Christmas with your family. Besides, Aunt Lillian might adapt better if not given the chance to lean on Maria all the time. So she did. She called and the staff said she had visitors from Beacon and was talkative and responsive to her guests. But Sunday after Christmas they again called Maria, that things were not going well. Aunt Lillian was going downhill fast. Maria called the priest to come for the last rites, but found Lillian naked, not even a blanket on in her bed. The nurse explained that sometimes near death the human "thermostat" goes crazy and Aunt Lillian could not cool down. "Help me, help me die,"she begged Ria. "I called the priest, he will help you." But the priest seeing she had no clothes on would not go into the room. Get her dressed, he directed and Maria went back into the room. Again Aunt Lillian asked for her help, help me die. The nurse looked at Maria and Maria said sternly, We will help you Aunt Lillian, We will help you die. But first you have to get dressed. " Maria said the nurse laughed right out loud at Maria's words. But Aunt Lillian did get covered up and the priest said his prayers which calmed Lillian right down.

The next morning while Maria and I talked on the phone, Aunt Lillian died. I went with Maria to the funeral home. Lillian had made all the arrangements before, just the obituary had to be written. Where was she born? He asked Maria. "Harlem", she was always proud of that fact. He shook his head, we better just say New York City...people might misunderstand. He asked a few more questions, and then Ria said to him...about her birthplace - I want you to put in Harlem. That's what she wanted, that's what she is going to get" Maria did a great job taking care of Aunt Lillian, right to the end....and more.