Memorinis are like appletinis, perhaps, or best composed with the help of such - sweet but potent, possibly silly, possibly cloying, possibly consciousness-altering. In other words, they are short vignettes about our loved ones who are no longer with us, fragments of family memoirs. I'm presuming that no one has the patience to write a book about our family, so this is a place where we can submit snippets about Grandma and Grandpa Mewhirter, Yorkville, our parents, our brother . . . memories we'd like to share and/or preserve.
For example, a few weeks ago, Dave C. and I were chatting about summers in Yorkville. Here's a composite memorini:
--ICE CREAM It was incredibly hot and, at night, incredibly hot and still. No air moved in the back bedroom upstairs. It seemed like we children were usually packed off to bed early, while our parents and grandparents talked or played cards. Occasionally, though, Grandpa Mewhirter would come upstairs and ask, deadpan, if anyone would like to go out for ice cream. We'd pile into his car (always a black Cadillac, wasn't it?), roll down the windows, and lurch down Highway 47 to Morris, the only semi-nearby town that boasted of a dairy bar that didn't close at 5:00p.m. Since we were in pajamas, Grandpa would go in to get the ice cream. Were they cones or cups? We can't remember, but we seem to recall that it was usually vanilla ice cream - either because that was the only flavor available, or, more likely, because it was Grandpa's favorite. [Dave C. and Deb W.]
Here's one I wrote during the Master's Golf Tournament, as the Golf Channel advertised a Father's Day competition for 200-word essays about what 'life-lessons' you learned from playing golf with your father. This is what I wrote about my dad (Uncle Dick):
As I was looking for pictures, I came across this composite letter from G&G, written on the occasion of my (dangerously delayed) birth; it was interesting to me in the way it reflected their different personalities. My explanations are in square brackets.--DAD'S LAST GOLF GAME The last time I played golf with my father was about fifteen years ago. He called on an early summer afternoon, asking if I were free for a nine-hole game. A very good golfer all his life, he had not played since suffering a serious stroke.
We teed off from the women's tees, gave each other mulligans, ignored water penalties - all things he never would have done a year previously. I am a terrible golfer, despite Dad's decades of efforts to teach me, and he'd had a single-digit handicap for as long as I could remember. We matched short drive with short drive, tentative chip shot with tentative chip shot, off-line putt with off-line putt. But on the eighth hole, he hit a nice approach and landed within ten feet of the pin.
"Putt out," I suggested, as I had my customary dismal lie and Dad seemed to be on a roll. He sank the putt firmly. I three-putted and trotted back to the golfcart.
"Let's go home now," Dad said, "and celebrate my putt with your mother." We did, and that was my father's final game. In seventy years of golf, he had gathered quite a few club-level championships and enjoyed playing on five continents. That day, he went out a winner. [Deb W.]
LETTER FROM GRANDMA AND GRANDPA [This part from Grandma:] Dearest Children, How we wish we were near enough to run in and see you for even a few minutes. We won't go into the story of the anxiety of the waiting etc. but we have gone around on much lighter feet since Molly [my mother's best friend in Marinette, WI] called yesterday. Laura [Grandma's sister] called last night and of course when we knew Ruth [another sister, a nurse] was with you we really did feel a thousand times better, so much so that when the Fishers [Yorkville friends] called and wanted us to come over and play bridge we accepted. The phone has been on the go too. The announcement of Deborah's arrival was in the record [Kendall County Record, the local weekly] so this morning people began calling.Email me some of your memorinis, and I'll post them here.I can come any time and I wondered if you would let me know Dick just when I should come. While Dad could bring me up I think it wiser if I come by train and he can come up later. He has a bad cold and if the roads up there aren't any better than they are here [this is written in February] it would be a rather bad drive. If I can be of any use at the hospital I'll be only too happy to come the first of the week. In fact I'm ready any minute.
Molly said the baby was a darling. I'm sure she is and of course we are eager to see her. Georgiana you rest every minute you can dear and I'll se you before long. Much love - Mother.
[This part is from Grandpa:] Hello Honey: I supposed that you are really thrilled. We are too but have not really come to realize that we are grandparents as well as that you are parents. Take care of yourself and if there is any help we can be in any way I know that you or Dick will tell us. Give our love to Aunt Ruth. We are very grateful to her for coming to the rescue as she did when you arrived. Will be seeing you all before too long. Love, Daddy.
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