Bittersweet

Having put away the turkey, we trekked north to the Land of Fabled Health Care. We saw Aunt Sue, who didn't quite remember who I was at first (being 91 may have some disadvantages), and then Aunt Mary, who seemed resigned to her fate as prisoner in a nursing home. She looked well and appeared to be adequately taken care of. Uncle George was our host for Friday and Saturday nights; and Cuzzin Willie threw a spectacular bash (he is becoming famous for that!) Saturday night, complete with his traditional roast pig.

The weekend did have its somber spots. Saturday afternoon was the funeral for Helen Varga, and in the evening, we met Sybil and Serena Kamasz after the testimonies at church. Sybil stunned us with the news (news to us, at least) that Gus had passed away 10 months ago to the day.

Gus Kamasz I counted as one of those people who was a "straight arrow". He immigrated to Canada from Communist Hungary as a young man, and while his English always had something of an accent, he was meticulous about his word usage and pronunciation. Like my father-in-law, he was scornful of those who were born in this country (or Canada) and were ignorant of proper English grammar. However, he had an extremely compassionate side reserved for those who were victims of misfortune and were in need of instruction and assistance. Gus and I got along famously. We could have significant disagreements and still talk and work together as brothers. We saw each other only a few times after he moved his family to Kitchener, and we moved back to Ohio, but I will miss him nonetheless. Sybil said he went out to get the snowblower from the garage, started it and put it in the driveway, came into the house to sit down for a moment, and asked her to keep an eye on it. She began to walk toward the door, heard a coughing sound from him, turned around, and he was gone. January 28, 2009.

Finally, this weekend gave me a chance to meet some more family. The Hrubik Boys from Glozan, at the turn of the last century (1900), were Paul, Mike, and John. Mike and John each had sons they named Carl (Karol). Dad corresponded with his cousin, Karol; Karol had a son (also Karol) and a daughter, Rose. I had met Rose's daughter, Caroline, many years ago, but this morning I met Rose. I also met Karol's grandson (Rose's nephew) Vladimir Hrubik, who had emailed me back in September asking me to read his new book, "When They Say Peace, Seek Shelter". So here's a plug for his book, which I have not yet read (although Willie says he has read the first chapter and part of the second but just has not had time to finish it). It's available at Amazon, Google, Barns & Noble, Author House and others.

At lunch, we sat with John and Susie Stajfer (Susie is Mom's cousin, daughter of Steve Cipkar Sr.). John's mother was a Miklovic (ah -- is Jaroslav lurking?) and I told them about the blog comments and emails I had had from both "Miklovic" and "K_C34". John said he didn't know too much about the Miklovic side of the family; he claimed he had tried to talk to his uncles at a family picnic in Cleveland years ago but the old folks suspected the younger ones of being Bolsheviks and wouldn't have too much to do with them. However, shortly after lunch, someone tapped me on the back and, when I turned around, asked if I knew who she was. She announced that she was Kathy Cipkar -- John and Susie were standing there with her, with big smiles on their faces. Kathy is K_C34's mother. We had an interesting chat.

'Nuff gossip. Time to catch some z's. Work to do tomorrow.