- AUNT FANNIE
From this lovely lady, I learned about granulated dishes, false teeth a nd seeds in salami. It was at her house in the country that I experienc ed a funeral for the first time. She with poise and dignity, laid her hus band, Uncle Lou to rest...she was 36... I was four, and my woolen dress it ched, and I asked, "Why do they cry."
There was always a smile of welcome whenever we came ... any time. She ca red for Grandma over the winters when a slip and fall on the ice out on t he farm could be dangerous. Her neat home in Ellis was so inviting. She l oved and could make the best coffee I ever fasted. I was about eight wh en she was at our house for dinner, and rinsed her dentures. We kids push ed and pushed like she did, but couldn't get our teeth out, and we knew th at she had some kind of magic in there. For a champion dish-breaker, tho se granulated dishes she had sure sounded like the real ticket.
She didn't coin the phrase, "I'd rather be an old man's sweetie than a you ng man's fool " but used it, when at 19 she married Uncle Lou (Broth er to Aunt Mary's husband, Uncle Joe Locker) who was 17 years older than s he. She raised four super nice children; Louise, Blanche, Frances and Art hur alone.
About the salami? We were at her house one summer day when she sent Arthu r, my sister Frances and I to the grocery store for salami for lunch. I 'd never eaten salami before, and encountered a peppercorn. She must ha ve seen the surprised look on my face, because she said, "If you don't li ke the seeds, pick them out. " Logical of course ... How often we p ut up with the peppercorns of life, simply because they are "there".
I remember her hair as being brown, and I can't remember her wearing it a ny way except in two braids, wrapped around her head like a regal crown.
She was my sister, Frances' favorite Aunt, and I think I know why. France s, forever the little peacemaker, didn't have a husband for Daddy to get i nto one of his loud "debates" that the Schuster men and in-laws always se emed to indulge. She said one time, "At Aunt Fanny's it's nice. Daddy go es over and argues with Uncle Jake, and Mom and Aunt Fanny talk about quil ts and stuff, talk Dutch and laugh."
In later years Uncle Paul Schuster made his home with her. Her last da ys were spent in a wheelchair, a victim of a stroke. Her daughter wrote t hat even after the stroke she remained bright and alert, cared for by Loui se (who was by this time herself a widow), and occasionally by daughter Bl anche. She was 89 when she passed away last January 1988.
One more little story, then I'll move on. In the back yard, back to ba ck with hers, lived a boy who was handicapped. He couldn't talk nor wa lk and spent his days hitching his chair up and down the back sidewalk a nd jabbering. We gawked through the fence. Seeing other children, he hitc hed his chair towards us jabbering his own kind of communication. We rac ed into the house to tell Aunt Fanny. She set us down, and explained th at we were not to mock or taunt him ... that he was a Child of God, ju st a little different. From this lovely lady, I learned compassion.
Written by Mary (Conard) Kaiser - 1984
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1898 - 1988 (89 years)
Immigration
