Good-bye and Amen PDF
Preview Good-bye and Amen
G O O D - B Y E and A M E N B E T H G U TC H E O N For Ann Standish Mueller Beloved Old Same C O N T E N T S I. The Lottery 1 II. Ancient and Modern History 55 III. Nora’s Photo Archive (so far . . . ) 99 Photographic Insert IV. The Summer of Sharing 113 V. The Prodigal Son 181 Biographies of Contributors 227 Ac know ledg ments 243 About the Author Other Books by Beth Gutcheon Credits Cover Copyright About the Publisher . . I T H E L O T T E R Y T he trouble started when Jimmy took the piano. Not their famous father’s concert Steinway; that was too valu- able to keep and was, anyway, nine feet long. Jimmy took the piano from the living room, the baby grand that had belonged to their Danish aunt Nina, the Res ist ance hero. Everyone knew Monica wanted that piano more than anything, and certainly more than Jimmy did. Well, we all knew it. We assume Jimmy knew. The middle-aged orphans’ lottery. Three grown siblings come together at the scene of their shared childhood, which they experi- enced the same and totally differently in about equal parts, to di- vide up the contents of the house they grew up in. Was there ever a scene more fraught with possibility for bloodless injuries, sepsis in wounds no sane person wants to reopen? They’d have been bet- ter off burning the house down. But they hadn’t. So few do. Which we think is just as well. Birth is usually instructive. Death always. But as one of the minor passages, this one holds much interest. Deciding within a family how to divide or share what the dead leave behind is a test that tells. In this family, Eleanor needs neither money nor things, but she likes to win, at least sometimes. And as eldest, feels entitled. Monica needs everything, and as middle and least-loved child, BETH GUTCHEON has her issues. And Jimmy as the youngest and well-known favor- ite feels . . . well, it’s often impossible to know what Jimmy feels. He’s a stage-five thinker, to the surprise of a good many of us. We’d love to know if this came from his Buddhist period, or if it was all those psychedelic drugs. † Eleanor Moss Applegate We were in the dining room of the house in Connecticut. We grew up there, but none of us had lived there full-time since we were fifteen, forty years ago in my case. Jimmy did, here and there, whenever he was kicked out of school, but not for de cades. Of course we visited our parents there, but Mother was pretty terri- torial. She didn’t like people prowling, especially her grand- children, so now that we had the run of the house, what was there came as a revelation. All our mother’s stuff from her childhood was up in the attic, and a lot from genera- tions before that. Mother and Papa had died together last Labor Day weekend. That was a bad shock, of course, but not the only one. Andrew Carnegie said that if you die rich, you die dis- graced. Well, Mother will be safe with Andrew, if they meet in heaven. She’d been living beyond her means for years. Way beyond. Bobby Applegate One of the first things my future mother-in-law told me when we met was that her grand- mother used to cross the street to avoid shaking hands with a man who was known to be Spending Principal. Those robber barons, who made their money before the income tax, you’d have thought their shit didn’t smell. Oh, sorry. 4
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