This girl-baby was given the operatic name of Aida when she was born. My grandparents pronounced this name "Ai-eee-da," which would explain the Americanization of the name to Anita when she started school. Further on in years, her brothers and sisters began calling her Edie, and that's the name that reigned with the family.
And 'reigned' is the correct word for Edie. She not only had a definite, commanding presence, but she reigned as Queen of The Family. For as long as I can remember, Aunt Edie wanted to have the last word on everything. It was her way or the highway, and she didn't care who liked it. If you wore too short a dress (especially in the 1960s), she not only let you know it, but she would put a pencil mark near your knee to let you know where the hem needed to be. Wrong color nail polish? She'd look through magazines to find just the right color that she thought would be better for you. Same went for hair styles, fashions, shoes, purses, home furnishings.
Aunt Edie was the only one of my aunts who lived in an apartment house, and I thought that was the most marvelous accomplishment when I was a kid. Yellowstone Blvd. in Queens in the 1950s and 1960s was an 'important' location. Right in the heart of one of the nicest parts of the borough, close to The City, and surrounded by hundreds if not thousands of specialty shops where you could buy anything at all shipped in from every country on the globe.
Edie's apartment reflected her sense of style, independence and all things out-of-the-ordinary. Her Yellowstone Blvd. apartment was filled with black lacquer Oriental furnishings that were so different than any of the traditional antiques that were in all of the other family homes.
The first time I went to Aunt Edie's apartment, I remember standing there at the doorway to her living room and just staring.... I didn't know where to look first because everything in her living/dining room just looked so different. Aunt Edie thought I was being quiet and polite that day, and she complimented my three-year-old self on my good behavior. Later on that same day, she would be scolding me because I had sunk my teeth (and left marks!) in one of her Oriental tables. That particular table was hand-painted with delicious looking fruit in baskets and I guess I wanted to see if the fruit was edible. The black lacquer was a soft wood.... my baby teeth were harder than anyone thought... and those two little teeth marks stayed in that table for as long as she owned it, which was as long as she lived. I remember being at a family Christmas party in my early 40s..... Aunt Edie was still telling that story: "Do you remember when Larrie tried to eat the fruit on my little Chinese table?"
Aunt Edie had a heart of gold, even though some people may have thought it was made of brass. She was just so determined to do things 'the right way,' and she just believed that her way was always the right way. Naturally, not everyone in the family agreed with that theory, and there were times when she would clash with her brothers and sisters to the point of a loud discussion that would last for weeks. I can remember my grandmother begging Aunt Edie to "let people make their own decisions... if they make a mistake, then they'll learn a lesson." Aunt Edie's answer to that was always the same: "If they do what I tell them, they won't make a mistake." My grandmother would go back to stirring the sauce or making dough for ravioli and just try and ignore the debate that was going on in her kitchen.
Aunt Edie was married and divorced before I was born. She had two children from that marriage, a son and a daughter. Edie's son was the only boy in my grandparents' house during World War II.... all of Edie's brothers had enlisted in the military, so it was just my grandfather and Edies' son for all of the war years, surrounded by "all these girls," as Grandpa would say. Because Aunt Edie's children were so much older than I was when I was in grade school, I thought her son was my uncle and her daughter was my aunt. I addressed them as such during one of the holiday dinners and Aunt Edie lost not a second in correcting me: "R and L are my children, which makes them your cousins, not your uncle and aunt. I am your Aunt. They are your cousins." She had me repeat that whole formal decree so I wouldn't soon forget it. While I was repeating that all back to her, one of my other cousins (of my own age) was whispering "You don't have to listen to her, Larrie... she's only your aunt, not your mother." Which, of course, brought on another lecture from Aunt Edie to that cousin, and another debate with that cousin's mother (which was Edie's younger sister).
Because of Aunt Edie's 'single' status, she went out to The City quite a bit. She was very pretty (as were all of my grandparents' daughters) and Edie attracted various gentlemen callers. That's how she referred to them, giving them numbers over the years. Gentleman Caller #1, Gentleman Caller #2, etc. If she permanently said good-bye to one particular Caller, she didn't re-assign his number to someone else. Reasons for being dismissed by Aunt Edie would be disrespecting either her or anyone in the family, being late for a date, or drinking, smoking, or eating too much. Aunt Edie wouldn't tolerate lateness, except if you got hit by a bus. She had no patience with people who drank too much because she wanted to be driven home, not put in a taxi. As for men who smoked more than one cigarette after dinner, her attitude with that was she didn't want to end up "smelling like an ash tray" by the end of the evening. And if a man ate too much, she just couldn't cope with that at all.... "He might have a heart attack in the middle of a good restaurant and I'll never be able to show my face in there again!"
Aunt Edie liked big spenders, though. She didn't like a man who was cheap with his money, because after all, "What's he going to do with it? Have his bank account buried in his casket?" Edie liked fine restaurants, well-made clothing, the theatre and the opera, and she loved The City. Manhattan was never frowned upon by Aunt Edie. The City was exciting, vivacious, thrilling, and alive, and she loved every bit of it. New York City was like Edie: glittery, sparkling, always ready for a party.
Edie's nick-name was "Sparkle Plenty," given to her by her sister Dolly. No matter what sort of porcelain figurine Edie bought for her apartment, she would douse it with a bit of clear glue and then dust it with gold or silver glitter. Edie's daughter L sent me some Oriental figurines a few years ago because she thought I'd like them for our big Victorian house. The figurines were white porcelain, a man and a woman, in delicate dancing poses.... frozen-in-time Asian dancers that were very fragile and very pretty. If I hadn't known their origin, one look at the gold glitter all over their porcelain costumes would have told me that they began their shelf-life on one of Aunt Edie's tables.
When I was a kid, Aunt Edie's Oriental-style apartment was like walking into a Hollywood movie. And if that hadn't been enough, visiting Aunt Edie along with Aunt Dolly was a special treat because the three of us would walk from that apartment up to Queens Blvd. and have lunch in one of the little coffee shops. Aunt Edie didn't always want to "mess up her kitchen" with cooking. The kitchen table, along with the counter-top and storage cabinets, were embellished with her collection of Oriental figurines, plates, and small lamps. I don't think she wanted to move anything out of the way for a mere sandwich or a bowl of soup.
In our family, especially at my grandmother's, everyone ate at home. No one trusted the ingredients from a restaurant to be fresh and of the best quality. (The exception to that rule was "Mama Leone's Italian Restaurant" in Manhattan.) Aside from that, we all believed that no one on the planet cooked as well as my grandmother and Aunt Dolly anyway, so why bother going out. Aunt Edie risked health and food poisoning every chance she got... she just loved being served, and if she didn't have to cook it, she would bravely choose from a menu of cafes and restaurants that she was familiar with. And I'm positive that if she had ever been served anything that wasn't up to her standards, she would have asked to speak to the chef.
As if it were just yesterday, I can remember sitting in a small cafe with my Aunt Edie and Aunt Dolly, and they had ordered a slice of chocolate cake for me, and one Charlotte Russe for them. Chocolate cake was my favorite dessert as a kid, and I remember telling Aunt Dolly "This cake isn't as good as yours." Aunt Edie told me to be polite and eat as much as I could without making a face. Aunt Dolly told me she would bake me a chocolate cake when we got home. While I was eating my not-so-good chocolate cake, my aunts were oohing and aahing over their Charlotte Russe. Back in the day, a Charlotte Russe was made in individual servings, not in a crowd-sized cake pan. The layers of angel food cake, cream, and berries were stacked in a cardboard cylinder and then sprinkled with powdered sugar and presented on a doily-embellished plate. Without a doubt, each of my aunts could have eaten a Charlotte Russe by themselves, but they preferred to share just one because it was so rich--- rich in both taste and in calories. It was Edie who would count the bites, making sure that Dolly didn't get more than she did.
My generation of 'the cousins' seemed at times to be intimidated by Aunt Edie. She told you what she thought you should do, wear, and be. And if that was in direct contrast to what you were thinking, then you were wrong. As we grew into adults, however, we recognized Aunt Edie's sincerity. She didn't want all of us to be just normal kids, she wanted us to be better than the normal kids.
Edie had a sense of fun which floored us..... as with her tiny French poodle named FiFi. Every Easter, she would use food coloring to dye that little dog pink or blue or yellow, and she would even polish its nails. Edie and FiFi would strut into my grandparents' house as if they were going to the Easter Parade on Fifth Avenue. The adults would groan and say "Would you look at that poor dog?" and us kids would be screeching "Look at Aunt Edie's cute little Easter Poodle! She's all pink!!"
Like all of my grandmother's daughters, Edie had a flair for fashion. She loved going to the New York City opera and stage shows, and she had a closet filled with beautiful gowns. She shopped for beautiful shoes and gloves to match, delicate "hose" (as she called it), and purses that were like jewels. When Edie "stepped out," she was noticed by everyone. You just couldn't help admiring how beautifully she put herself together.
Aunt Edie passed away in 2005, a year or two before or after her 90th birthday. She spent the very last part of her life in a nursing home because she could no longer be taken care of in her own home. Her daughter L made sure that "Sparkle Plenty" was always beautifully coifed and dressed in that facility, although the opera gowns remained in a dark closet that Edie wouldn't ever see again.
Aunt Edie had two children (a son and a daughter), both of whom had two children of their own. Edie's son and his wife gave her two grandsons: both are married now, one has a young son, which is Edie's great-grandson. Edie's daughter gave her two granddaughters: one gave her a great-granddaughter, the other gave her three great-granddaughters and one great-grandson. Two of Edie's great-grandchildren now have children of their own, giving Edie three great-great-grandchildren.
I was not in New York for Edie's funeral, but the family told me that when Edie was put to rest in her casket, her daughter picked out one of her most beautiful gowns and her prettiest pair of shoes from her "opera closet." She arranged for her mother's hair and make-up to be fixed just the way Edie liked, and the ultimate result was a beautifully restful Edie who looked very much at peace. I like to imagine that Aunt Edie has been coasting on the puffiest of clouds up there since her passing, keeping company with my grandparents and other family members who have passed on over the years since.
I am certain that Edie has also been watching over her ever-growing branch of the family tree down here, and I can imagine her sprinkling golden glitter wherever she can so everything will be sparkling and pretty. As Aunt Edie always told the family: "A little extra sparkle never hurt anybody."
No comments:
Post a Comment