Reading the Obituaries

On a daily basis, I turn to The Denver Post to check the obituaries.  This habit began long ago when I contacted my aunt (who herself was the subject of an obituary in the 90's) to ask why she hadn't notified me that a somewhat distant cousin of our large extended family, had passed on.  She shocked me with her reply "what's the matter with you-don't you know you are supposed to read the obituaries every day yourself."  Since being chastised rather harshly because of that innocent question, I have been hooked on Denver's obituaries ever since.

You might well ask (or wonder), what does she get out of the obituaries?  Isn't that practice a little morbid?  My answer is "I get a lot out of reading the obituaries and no, it is not morbid, death is a fact of life."  Also, being out of town allows me to express my sympathies when necessary, to family members whom I know that have lost a loved one.

Take today's obituaries for example (Sunday, August 2, 2009).  I come across one very familiar name "Leona 'Lil' Averch" and "Marijean Frickel" an unknown name, but possibly related to somebody I do remember.

Lil Averch's obituary says "arrangements pending."  However, her name sets my mind to whirling.  She was the wife of one of my Dad's friends and arch-business rival, Meyer Averch.  Meyer was a heavy-set blustery man with a big red face, whose face got redder every time he and my dad argued over the price of cattle my dad should be paid by Meyer for being sent to Meyer's slaughterhouse, Averch Packing.  I remember Meyer and Lil, dressed  up together for fancy fundraising dinners; I remember their fancy house in the "better" part our our neighborhood and I marvel at the fact that she has managed to live so long when my mother, her contemporary, has been dead since August 5, 1975.   I also recall that one of Meyer's sons came to my house to pay his respects when my dad passed away in 1989.  That in itself, was a gesture of profound respect for a longstanding relationship.

So seeing Lil Averch's name brings up a whole host of memories, some funny, some not so pleasant (i.e. that my dad was the instrument of slaughter for thousands of cattle so we could all eat beef, my dad and Meyer in their perpetual argument, my mother long dead).

Marijean Frickel is not a name I recognized, but I scanned her obituary and sure enough, she is listed as the wife of Ron Frickel.  I gasp.  We lived across the street from Ron and Ardie Frickel in 1967-1970, on a bucolic rural street in Lakewood, Colorado where our first two sons, Oliver and Joseph were born.  

The Frickels were lovely neighbors.  They had two beautiful little  blonde daughters and the 

thing I remember most was Ardie's big role in the first fundraisers ever for Public Television.  She dressed up as Big Bird so Channel 6 could do fundraising for Sesame Street.  I was so impressed by Ardie's enthusiasm and her commitment-after all, I was the mother of two little boys and could hardly manage to get out of the house and here was Ardie, running around as Big Bird.    

My mind spins again:  why did Ardie and Ron divorce (or had Ardie passed on)?  They seemed like such a happy couple.  What has happened to those beautiful little girls?

Obituaries:  the reality of the present, reminders of our past, providing emotional moments or memories that always live with us and can be retrieved in a second with a glance at a familiar name.  My aunt was right after all.