AND THEN THERE WAS ONE . . .

           She was her parents' 'baby' . . .the last born of  twelve.  She was twenty years younger than her oldest sibling.  Of that 12, ten grew to adulthood; two died as infants. Now, she is the sole surviving sibling.  





        After 


completing high school, she came to live with us while pursuing cosmetology training in Raleigh. While there, she met Wade, her husband for over fifty years until his death several years ago.  They raised three of my cousins --each a distinctive kar'akter in their own right (as are many of our other cousins).

     Being only ten years older than I, as well as our having lived for several years in the same town, she has been a combination of aunt and 'big sister' for me.  When I was an adolescent, the older sister of my first 'girl friend' lived directly across the street from Rachel.  I have distant memories of 'courting' in her living room.

     There is a family story . . .mom told it as 'truth'; Rachel says it is more 'myth'.  One Summer while she was in high school, part of her family responsibility was to have a meal prepared when her dad, the village postmaster, came home for lunch.  Allegedly, she would often become immersed in a radio program (no t.v.'s at the time, remember !) and at the last minute open a can of English peas for grand-pa.  After a few times of this, he asked her if she liked them?  'Yes'.  Grand-pa: 'Good, because if you cook those again, you get to eat them all.'

    Now, even if there is an element of truth in that narrative, she has more than 'redeemed' herself.  Do you like chicken and dumplings?  Angels in heaven will eat hers.  Lemon pie?  She has no equal.  When her son operated a cafe in their hometown, Rachel's dumplings were a menu mainstay and always disappeared quickly.  Leaving her house last week-end after I had extracted a promise to cook some chicken and dumplings soon for us, she wryly noted: "I can cook other things as well."  My mom's three sons used to tweak her when one of her meals was especially good: "Has Rachel been by here?" . . . a supreme compliment.  

     'Growing Old' has not been part of her vocabulary or experience.  She has seen more of this globe than Marco Polo did in his travels.  She continues to be active and engaged with life in many ways and her 'friendship network' is extensive.     

                      (Always adventuresome.  One of her and Wade's many trips.)

     Many persons have commented on our strong family facial resemblance.  During our brief visit last Saturday, she told us of having been on an elevator at UNC Hospital years ago.  A brother and a sister worked there at the time and yet another sister (my mom) had once been there.  A man unknown to her but apparently the brother's co-worker entered the elevator, looked , no, stared, at her and in time exclaimed, "Another damned Cooper"!  Whoever that man was, he could have learned something of Gail Lumet Buckley's observation that "family faces are magic mirrors. Looking at people who belong to us, we see the past, present and future."  Among the threads that hold her close to my heart are the memories of the many ways she continued to show her love to my mother during the latter years of her life, spent in an area 'nursing home'.  The 'family resemblance' included more than facial features . . .more like 'the heart'.
  
     She is a 'family treasure' . . . a link between the generations.  She is among but a handful of people who have known me for all my 75 years.  There are lots of good stories from that large family's past that need to be told and re-told and passed on to 'the next generation'.  'Stories' can be wonderful 'connectors' and given the fragmentation that is so ingredient to contemporary society, 'connectedness' can actually enhance our self-knowledge and functioning.  
  
   It could be said of our extended family that "some family trees bear an enormous crop of nuts."  There is absolutely nothing disparaging implied in that statement because as someone else has noted, "Family is a bit like a runny peach pie-not perfect but who's complaining ?".  Ogden Nash wrote that "family isn't about whose blood you have. It's about who you care about."  And, as some unknown (to me) person has written: "If you don't believe in ghosts, go to a family reunion" . . . you might just meet someone who reminds you of  . . .you.

                            (Second from right with several of her siblings)


And, an early 'Happy Birthday, Rachel !'  "Tell us some family stories."

     Satchel