By Margaret Ann Gethers Scott, Ph.D.

Margaret is her family’s historian, and author of two books on family history. This post is the first of a two-part series; next week, Margaret will share her thoughts on being a family historian.

In the fall of 2013, I began compiling and editing the various musings and recollections my then 88-year-old mother (Mother Dear) had jotted down over the years. Mother Dear’s words were photocopied and spiral-bound into a book which was eventually distributed to family and friends. I invited my siblings and first cousins to send an anecdote or reflection about Mother Dear that would be included in an appendix titled, “Our Recollections of Nettie.” My brother Danny sent the following:

“The Firecrackers Christmas”

One year just after Thanksgiving, Muz [derivative of Mother Dear] asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I told her all I wanted was some firecrackers, nothing else! She kept asking was I sure? I kept saying “Yes.” So, Christmas morning I got a lot of firecrackers, nothing else. When my cousins came over to show what they had gotten, it hit me: “All I have is firecrackers!” The day went on. I was feeling bad now; everyone had nice things but me. Muz sent me to her bedroom to get something for her. Behold, there on the bed was a BB rifle and a tan sweater with brown trim and brown suede patches on the elbows! I think that was the biggest hug Muz ever received from me, ever! She really played along and fooled me that year. That’s why I love her so-o-o-o much!

I illustrated Danny’s story with a school days picture of him wearing that tan sweater. On Friday night, January 10,2014, I called Danny to ask if he liked Mother Dear’s book. The first thing he said was: “You found a picture of the sweater!”

We talked about the book for a while and then I asked, “How are you doing these days?” (He was a disabled veteran diagnosed with pulmonary sarcoidosis.) He said, “Lately, I’ve been having to use more oxygen.” I asked, “When was the last time you saw your pulmonologist?” “I have a two o’clock appointment at the VA Hospital on Monday,” he said. “Good,” I said.

Danny shared that it seemed as if he couldn’t eat the foods he liked anymore – beans, peas, greens, and things like that. I said, “It’s probably because of all that fat you put in your food.” “Yeah,” he laughed, “I was thinking the same thing.” He said he hadn’t eaten yet and would be having a bowl of cereal when he got off the phone. Then he said, “But I have some oxtails that Lawrence gave me, and I’m going to cook my oxtails!” We both laughed then and I responded, “Oxtails are a delicacy. If somebody gives you some oxtails, you’d better enjoy them!”

Danny experienced a respiratory event early on the morning of Monday, January 13, 2014, and died just hours before his scheduled doctor’s appointment. He was 62 years old. I don’t know if my brother ever got a chance to cook those oxtails.

© 2024 Margaret Scott

Margaret Ann Gethers Scott, Ph.D. is a retired school librarian, family historian, and author of two books on family history. Her workshops, classes, and lectures help everyday ordinary people tell their family story. To learn more visit  https://www.familyhistoryplace.com