I am primarily of Slovakian and German heritage with a little Irish and Ukrainian tossed in. My father passed away in 1955, leaving my mother a widow at forty with four children. For the most part, my father’s family lost touch with us, leaving my mom and her sisters as our primary links to the past.
Irene, my mother, Aunt Mary, and Aunt Agnes were born to Michael and Maria Fecinko early in the 20th century. They were the surviving three of sixteen children. The Spanish Flu claimed the others. It’s hard to imagine suffering such sustained loss but my mom and aunts persisted.
Aunt Mary, the oldest, would greet us with “Jak se máš” when we visited. It means “How are you” in Czech. Little did we know that most people would eventually associate that expression with Borat.
I remember Aunt Agnes for often saying “The hurrider I go, the behinder I get.” When I would act up, she’d say, “Come over here so I can hit you.” She never actually hit me and instead put up with a nephew asking to stay over in their three story North Philly row house, originally owned by Michael and Maria Fecinko.
The sisters built their own lives, Irene and Agnes had children and grandchildren, while Mary went childless and lost multiple husbands until marrying Uncle Johnny late in life. Johnny ended up murdering his neighbor and was sent off to prison. Mary was alone again.
The three maintained a close, if not sometimes, contentious relationship, with Mary dominating her younger siblings. It’s hard to judge her given her lifetime of loss. Agnes bore Mary’s disapproval with a stoic nature, accepting her status as youngest, even into her seventies. Irene, caught in the middle most times, became the Switzerland of the three, keeping harmony when possible.
We read of close, happy sisters in fiction, but the truth is usually more skewed. Surviving, maintaining contact, and doting of nieces and nephews while loving each other in their own way, is as much as we can expect from siblings when life has other plans for us.
Irene, my mother, Aunt Mary, and Aunt Agnes were born to Michael and Maria Fecinko early in the 20th century. They were the surviving three of sixteen children. The Spanish Flu claimed the others. It’s hard to imagine suffering such sustained loss but my mom and aunts persisted.
Aunt Mary, the oldest, would greet us with “Jak se máš” when we visited. It means “How are you” in Czech. Little did we know that most people would eventually associate that expression with Borat.
I remember Aunt Agnes for often saying “The hurrider I go, the behinder I get.” When I would act up, she’d say, “Come over here so I can hit you.” She never actually hit me and instead put up with a nephew asking to stay over in their three story North Philly row house, originally owned by Michael and Maria Fecinko.
The sisters built their own lives, Irene and Agnes had children and grandchildren, while Mary went childless and lost multiple husbands until marrying Uncle Johnny late in life. Johnny ended up murdering his neighbor and was sent off to prison. Mary was alone again.
The three maintained a close, if not sometimes, contentious relationship, with Mary dominating her younger siblings. It’s hard to judge her given her lifetime of loss. Agnes bore Mary’s disapproval with a stoic nature, accepting her status as youngest, even into her seventies. Irene, caught in the middle most times, became the Switzerland of the three, keeping harmony when possible.
We read of close, happy sisters in fiction, but the truth is usually more skewed. Surviving, maintaining contact, and doting of nieces and nephews while loving each other in their own way, is as much as we can expect from siblings when life has other plans for us.