It's Not Over Yet

Mom and her brothers: Al, Ray, Mom, and Art

I was just at the point where I thought, “I don’t know if I really have anything left to post to the blog.” Maybe at anniversaries, but I had nothing more to say. I’m not one of those bloggers who writes daily or weekly or even monthly “columns” of useful or interesting information. I pretty much write what I hope will be helpful to me. It’s not exactly, or maybe not only that I’m being self-serving. It’s really just all I think I have to offer.

Then two weeks ago today, I got a phone call from my Aunt Marian. Marian is the wife of my mom’s younger brother, Art. As soon as I saw the name on the caller i.d., I knew why she was calling. Uncle Art had died at 4 that morning. He’d been in the hospital or a nursing home since December. She didn’t know what they would consider the cause of death; he had Parkinson’s, and a number of other health issues. His latest problems were all respiratory.

I expressed my condolences, thanked Marian for calling, and asked her to call me back once the arrangements were made. I wasn’t seriously considering attending the funeral, but I did want to know the details.

The thing is, I did not expect that the news of Art’s death would affect me the way it did. Even though on some level I was expecting it, I was stunned. The news affected me rather strongly. It sent me deep inside, which I guess is really me withdrawing into myself while I try to process something. I’m still not sure why I had such a strong reaction. Art was the youngest of the four Leininger children, 2 years younger than Mom. Al and Ray (first and second respectively in birth order) had died years ago. I believe Ray’s wife Geneva has also died, but Al’s wife Analie is still alive, and of course, Art’s wife Marian. And yet, Art was the last of the Leininger children in that generation. In some ways, I guess, it is the ending of an era.

Mom did not stay particularly close to her brothers during the time we kids were growing up. Art and Marian, along with their kids John and Kris, were by far the ones we saw most often. Even with them, I think my dad was more of the driving force to spend time with them. We liked Uncle Art and his family. Uncles Al and Ray, the rarely seen, were much crabbier, I thought, and scarier.

The evening after I received Marian’s call, I sent an email to my siblings, letting them know. I told them Marian would be getting back to me with additional information. Two or three days went by, and I heard nothing back from Marian or my siblings. I couldn’t believe they were just going to not respond. Then Marian called again. During all the arrangements, she had forgotten if she was supposed to call me back or not. She asked if she could email the information to me, which I was fine with. Then we actually had a nice chat. My last few (and infrequent) encounters with Art and Marian over the phone while Mom was staying with us were on the strange side. In fact, I think I’ve always thought Marian a little odd, and Art seemed to be growing more so. But first when I talked to Marian last year to tell them Mom died, and now again with Art’s death, she seemed surprisingly fine—not odd, even likable. It was refreshing to have this talk with her.

The next day, the email with Art’s funeral information arrived, and I forwarded it to my siblings. Lo and behold, they each wrote back. Paranoid? Me? Well, perhaps just a touch over-sensitive.

The day after Marian first called me with the news about Art, I was already over the initial shock. I still don’t fully know what that was about. But as soon as you think, I have nothing more to write, look what happens. Not always a death, I’m assuming, because I do actually have another entry I want to write when I get the time, which is Mom-related but not death-related. So here’s to Uncle Art, and I hope to write again soon.