Sudden Unexpected Memories

Sometimes memories of people and events from long ago just pop into my aging brain. Only rarely can I articulate why this happens. Often enough there doesn’t seem to be an obvious cause. For example, yesterday evening, as Diane and I watched one of Agatha Christie’s “Miss Marple” mysteries, out of the blue I thought of Aunt Ella and Uncle Edgar. Neither had crossed my mind in years, but there they were, interfering with my ability to follow a sinister plot that led to multiple murders in a quaint English village.

"Aunt" Ella and "Uncle" Edgar were not actually my aunt and uncle. I'm pretty sure Edgar McManus was my dad's second cousin, the first cousin of my paternal grandfather, making him my third cousin. Ella, of course, was related to me only through her marriage to Edgar. Edgar was born on March 13, 1876 and Ella on May 29, 1883. Moved by the arrival of these unexpected memories, I looked all this up last night. Their dates of birth surprised me since this discovery caused me to realize I have known people who were born almost 150 years ago. But that was true as well for all four of my grandparents. I just never thought much about it. The only conclusion from this revelation: I, too, am getting old.

Both Ella and Edgar died in 1959, she on August 22, at the age of 76, and Edgar less than a month later on September 15. He was 83 when he died. My folks were very close to this wonderful couple who I discovered were married on June 12, 1907, two years before my mom and dad were born. Interestingly, I'm currently the same age (76) as Ella when she died, and like Diane and me, this couple had been married 52 years. To be brutally honest, I thought Ella was very, very old. Of course, in September 1959, I had just celebrated my 15th birthday.

Back in 1959, we lived in Larchmont, New York, and Edgar and Ella lived in Holyoke, Massachusetts. We visited them occasionally, perhaps once or twice a year but, sadly, were not informed of their deaths. Both had already been buried before we learned anything. I can recall how devastated my folks were when they found out. It seems that Edgar just gave up the will to live after Ella's death and simply longed to join her. 

Edgar was an executive in the Insurance industry and part of what my dad called the Protestant wing of the family. The religious difference was absolutely irrelevant, though. Dad truly loved his cousin and whenever they got together the conversation would cover the waterfront. I learned a lot just sitting nearby and listening to these two men as they talked. Mom and Ella would, of course, carry on a simultaneous conversation as we all sat in their Victorian-furnished living room. I sometimes slipped away into the kitchen where I could watch the birds and squirrels come up to Ella's kitchen window to eat the seed and nuts she placed on a platform Edgar had attached to the window frame. And Ella always had a ready supply of cake and cookies which she would tell me to "eat until your tummy tells you to stop."

Ella, whose maiden name was Mayhew, was a descendant of an old Yankee family that arrived in this country in the 1630s. Her branch of the Mayhews descended from Thomas Mayhew, one of the original settlers of Martha's Vineyard. Ella had a huge (3 foot by 4 foot), very elaborate, and beautifully framed Mayhew family tree made in the late 19th century. It was truly a work of art, and included the names of hundreds of Mayhew descendants, including Ella herself. A few years before her death she inexplicably gave this family tree to my parents, even though we certainly had no direct familial connection to the Mayhews. Years later, I "inherited" the tree which we displayed on the wall of our family room until the day of a remarkably serendipitous phone conversation.

I was on the phone with Chuck Smiley, my former commanding officer, a dear friend, godfather of our eldest child, and truly one of the best men I have ever known. Knowing we lived on Cape Cod, Chuck mentioned that in the course of doing some genealogical digging, he discovered that he was a direct descendant of a Thomas Mayhew of Martha's Vineyard, an island off the coast of Cape Cod. Had I ever heard of him? I simply said, "Chuck, as we speak I am looking at Thomas Mayhew's family tree, which is hanging on our wall." I then asked, "Would you like it?" I had it safely packaged and shipped directly to Chuck and Sally who lived in San Diego. Both Chuck and Sally died not too long ago, but I expect one of their children now has the tree which for them must be a wonderful family treasure. I've always thought there was a reason, at the time unknown to all, why Ella Mayhew McManus gave that family tree to my folks. Just look where it is now.

You see, Ella and Edgar had no children...at least that's what I thought. Because my dad was almost like a son to this couple, I suppose giving the tree to my folks made some sense. On all those many visits I can recall no one ever mentioning children, but I do remember my mom once saying they were a childless couple. But then yesterday I found a photo of their gravestone on findagrave.com. The stone contains three names: Edgar, Ella, and a child with the unusual name of Lepha Duncan McManus. It seems they had a daughter who was born on May 9, 1909 -- just weeks before both of my parents were born -- and died only six months later on November 23, 1909. I was astounded and saddened, and wonder if my parents even knew about this contemporary of theirs who died so young. I was saddened, too, that nobody had added the year of their deaths after Edgar's and  Ella's names. 

All of this began with last night's uninvited memory, caused by who knows what, and yet led me to recall this wonderful couple about whom I really know so very little. I will add them and their infant daughter to my prayers. And maybe, if I ever again get to Springfield, Massachusetts, I'll stop by their grave and leave a bouquet along with a prayer.

So many people I have known, so many I have forgotten, so many memories to arise when I least expect them.