Aunt Reba, Miami, c. 1975
My Aunt Reba was a character. She wanted her picture made with the birthday hat on. It wasn't HER birthday, but she liked being the center of attention. One of the reasons she was the favored daughter of the James family was that she was musically gifted. She could play the piano by ear, and she later took lessons somewhere. I admit Aunt Reba was a truly talented evangelical style pianist and organist. She and I had playing the piano in common. When I visited her home, I loved to sit and go through her music--she had probably a hundred sheet music songs, in addition to the many hymnals she played in various churches. On Sundays, after church, she and Uncle Frank would come for Sunday dinner. Afterwards, I'd sit and play the piano, and if my friend Patti was there, we'd practice singing the alto part of the hymns for choir. Aunt Reba had to get involved. She'd listen, and then tell us we were singing it all wrong. She'd push me off the piano bench, play, and sing. The playing was fine; the singing, not so much. It was NOT the alto part. In fact, it was amazing that she had such a good ear for the piano, but such a bad ear for singing. She was tone deaf when it came to vocal music. Patti and I would just sing along and then crack up later. Uncle Frank, well, he'd tell her to stop messing with us. When she didn't, he'd just lay low. He laid low a lot.
Before my mom died, the family always went down to Grandmother's for Sunday dinner. Aunt Reba and Uncle Frank would come by to visit. Aunt Reba was a flashy dresser, and she always had to check out and try the new styles. My Uncle Son lived with Grandmother, and he could never resist picking at Aunt Reba.He also had a habit of just yelling out rhymes he made up or funny comments.One of his favorites to shout out was "Tussy Red, Knock 'em dead!" One Sunday, she flounced in and announced, "I'm wearing the latest style. Elephant bells!" Uncle Son couldn't resist the perfect set-up she had given him. He shouted, "Hey, Donna Jo and Billy--the circus has done come to town. See! There's the elephant and it's wearing a tent!" Poor Aunt Reba, but it was funny. And Uncle Son never gave up. No matter what kind of get-up she wore, he had a comment. She wore a loose caftan. And he screamed, "Kids, look here come de bus, here come de bus!" Aunt Reba would just tell him he never had no sense and no style. Uncle Frank? He lay low.
Finally, the day came when I was engaged, and Aunt Reba had to have all of us down to her house for a good dinner (because Grandmother didn't cook fancy enough, according to her). My Rick was not used to someone so boisterous. Uncle Frank gave him the house tour, while I looked over the table and the food. I walked into the dining room and found Aunt Reba spraying Black Flag pesticide all over the top of a most delicious looking chocolate cake. "What are you doing, Aunt Reba!" She just calmly replied that she'd been having a problem with sugar ants, and the Black Flag would keep them off the cake. I had to ask what other foods she had sprayed--just the cake, she promised. I had to sneak off and tell everyone NOT to eat any of the poison cake. Poor Uncle Frank--he told us she'd been spraying everything for ants, and he'd been going to eat at the cafeteria because he was in fear for his life. Somehow, we managed to eat the other food and avoid the cake. I think we were all too full of her delicious dinner to have dessert. At least that's what we told her.
Food was always a problem. After Grandmother came to live with us permanently, Aunt Reba and Uncle Frank always came for Thanksgiving Dinner. As soon as they would get to the house, the arguments would begin. Grandmother and Aunt Reba would argue about their cousins 'Lil Sis and Iney and someone falling, or being pushed, off the mule wagon. They would argue about the food Grandmother had been preparing. Aunt Reba always insisted that she make her apple salad for the table. Grandmother would say, "Now Reba, you know nobody wants that nasty apple salad." Aunt Reba would insist that it was everyone's favorite (it was NOT), and she'd practically push Grandmother out of the way to make it. She'd even bring her own fancy dish for the apple salad. Uncle Frank was only concerned that Dolly would be sure to get some of the best bits of the turkey to eat. Uncle Son would come in and egg on the arguments. I'd be playing the piano, to try to draw her out with me. But, she wouldn't budge until that apple salad was made and in its fancy bowl. When everything was ready, Daddy would pray, and we'd dig in. All arguments forgotten, as long as the food lasted. Afterwards, Grandmother would do the dishes while Aunt Reba laid up and rested from her labor on the apple salad. Uncle Son would be sitting on the front porch screaming out whatever was on his mind. And Uncle Frank, he just lay low.
No comments:
Post a Comment