10:13 a.m. - 2004-12-13
Back from West Virginia

In the bosom of my family

I am a Slanchik. That is my Mother's maiden name. I live near my fathers family but don't really identify with them. Although they are lovely people, when I visit them I always feel like company. With the Slanchik side I feel like I am in the heart of my family. There is a glowing like the burning of E.T.'s "Heartlight".

I was born and raised in the Chicago area but when I travel back to Wellsburg, West Virginia, I know I am going home. The West Virginia panhandle with it's industrial steel mill smells blended with the damp smell of the great Ohio River is like perfume to my senses.

I know I am on my way home about midway through the state of Ohio as the flatland falls away to hills and the road I am on becomes lined by rocky walls where bulldozers have scraped a level highway. As the terrain gets hillier, the road climbs higher, I am treated to a postcard perfect panorama of the countryside. Little towns of turn of the century houses, clustered cozy. My heartlight starts to warm as I drive East. Coming down Route 11 South heading toward East Liverpool, I spot the river. My heartlight is fully warmed now as I slip onto Route 7 that runs along the river on the Ohio side and will take me to the bridge that crosses over into the place my heart lives, Wild and Wonderful West Virginia. As I ride along that river road, there is only one recurring sound running through my head. I turn off the radio to listen to my heart sing, "Country Road....Take me home....to the place...I belong...West Virginia...Mountain Mama...Take me home...country road."

I usually stay at my Grandmothers home. She is 100 years old now and is still able to live in her little home because my Aunt Joanne and Uncle Carl have moved in to take care of her. They willingly give up their lives in Florida to do this. It is a selfless act of love that is so touching it makes me cry. Granny's house is one bedroom and they sleep on an airbed in the living room to be able to stay with her so she can stay in her little house.

This visit, I stayed with my Aunt Edie who lives 2 blocks away. Aunt Edie is my Grandma's youngest daughter. She is the daughter who stayed in West Virginia close to Grandma all these years. Through thick and thin, Aunt Edie, Uncle Freddie and their two sons, Rusty and Andy helped Grandma along. When Aunt Jo and Uncle Carl would visit, Uncle Carl would make necessary repairs on the little house and Aunt Joanne would organize anything that needed organizing on the inside. Between all of them that little house and Grandma were kept neat as a pin. Mom used to drive in from Chicago to help where she could.

Mom is gone now and so is Uncle Freddie. As Granny is getting older needing more and more care, there are 3 senior citizens now to do more work than 5 younger people used to do.

I still remember the day the whole family came in from wherever we were all living to help Aunt Edie and Uncle Freddie clean up the old house they bought accross from the ball fields on the bank of the Ohio River. We all sort of camped out in this beautiful old house that needed some TLC. Grandma was young enough to help too. I'll never forget her coming up from the basement where she was sweeping, covered in black dust. Us cousins were really too young to be of much help so we ran around and played with each other.

That old house was the source of many childhood memories when we would get to play with our cousins and sit on the front porch swing and look across the ball fields at the barges going up and down the river.

Aunt Edie and Uncle Freddie's home was always open to hold the people who came to visit. It was home base for Grandmas 80th and 90th and 100th birthday parties and for when we came for both of her sons weddings and the double event of her youngest son's wedding which then turned into a funeral for my Mother who died while we were there. This is the house where my sisters and I met with the funeral director, where we made the phone calls we needed to make. It seems like we had the whole town of Wellsburg for support. Friends and neighbors of my Aunt brought over food and condolences. It was in this house where we sat next to our Aunts, Uncles, Grandma and cousins while they held us in their arms so we could cry. I somehow wonder if God planned it this way so we could be in the place where our family spirit lies...the place where other heartlights burn.

Before I left on this trip, Mike had our mechanic fix something he was worried about and give the car a once over. He was worried about my traveling alone.

"Don't worry, Uncle Carl will be there." I said with no hesitation.

Knowing that Uncle Carl would be on the other side made me feel safe. At one time I had a Dad and two uncles to rely on. Now I only have Uncle Carl but in my opinion, Uncle Carl can do anything. I always feel safe knowing my Aunts and Uncle are on the other end the trip. As it turned out, I did have a problem with my windhshield wiper. Uncle Carl fixed it just as I knew he would.

Grandmas house was warm and charming. Aunt Jo has a flair for arranging things in a homey and comfey manner. Granny was dressed neat as a pin and looked so cute. I watched the loving care they give my Grandma, making sure she has what she needs, even before she needs it. After visiting with them for a while, I went to Aunt Edies house where she greeted me with a smile, a hug, a big bowl of delicious home made soup and some garlic bread. This house too is homey and comfey and dressed up just right for Christmas with little knick knacks placed perfectly. Both houses are the source of many fond and heart lighting memories.

When I am home in West Virginia. I am no longer just Paula. I am a Slanchik. I am part of an organism all its own. It not only includes those of us who are there right at the moment, it includes all of the cousins that are back in their own homes in Chicago, Australia, Florida and South Carolina and the ones who have gone on to Heaven. I can feel my Grandpap, my Mother, and Uncle Freddie looking down on us, laughing at the tales we are telling, the news we are sharing about our lives and our loved ones and the memories we all have of Grandma and Grandpap and their old house up on Grant Street. We are a warm, hearty, happy family and the word "love" doesn't do it justice...It is more than love. There is a tie that binds that can never be broken. Even now as I sit back here in Illinois typing this, my heart light is glowing bright.

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