“I got a letter from Marie.”
“Oh, how is she doing?”
“Well, she and The Doctor are headed off on some cruise again.”
Growing up, my great-aunt Marie was a shadowy, mysterious glamour figure in my life. All I knew was that my grandmother and great-aunts envied both her beauty and her money. She was the eldest of my grandfather’s 9 siblings, and the only one to have moved away from our little corner of New York state – all the way to exotic northern California! Occasionally a present for me would arrive, accompanied by a scented note in Aunt Marie’s spidery handwriting. When I’d ask about it, my mother said presents came because my grandfather was Marie’s favorite baby brother.
What no one spoke about was that Marie and Pops (eldest daughter and youngest son) were the only two siblings who had broken out of their lower middle-class upbringing. They’d taken very different, gender-based paths to success. My grandfather worked hard to slowly rise up the corporate ladder. Marie “married up.” As a young woman, she worked in our new hospital and caught the eye of one of the founding doctors. I learned later that it was quite the scandal at the time, the rich older doctor leaving his wife to marry the beautiful girl from the other side of the tracks. Such a scandal, in fact, that when The Doctor was offered a job in Oakland, he took it and away they went. This left the rest of the family to imagine Marie in her furs, living a life of luxury with a wealthy man 20 years her senior.
“Oh, how is she doing?”
“Well, she and The Doctor are headed off on some cruise again.”
Growing up, my great-aunt Marie was a shadowy, mysterious glamour figure in my life. All I knew was that my grandmother and great-aunts envied both her beauty and her money. She was the eldest of my grandfather’s 9 siblings, and the only one to have moved away from our little corner of New York state – all the way to exotic northern California! Occasionally a present for me would arrive, accompanied by a scented note in Aunt Marie’s spidery handwriting. When I’d ask about it, my mother said presents came because my grandfather was Marie’s favorite baby brother.
What no one spoke about was that Marie and Pops (eldest daughter and youngest son) were the only two siblings who had broken out of their lower middle-class upbringing. They’d taken very different, gender-based paths to success. My grandfather worked hard to slowly rise up the corporate ladder. Marie “married up.” As a young woman, she worked in our new hospital and caught the eye of one of the founding doctors. I learned later that it was quite the scandal at the time, the rich older doctor leaving his wife to marry the beautiful girl from the other side of the tracks. Such a scandal, in fact, that when The Doctor was offered a job in Oakland, he took it and away they went. This left the rest of the family to imagine Marie in her furs, living a life of luxury with a wealthy man 20 years her senior.
The other seven siblings married, had families and worked as bus drivers, small-scale farmers, merchants - the kinds of jobs that keep a community running. They lived lives with little room for luxury. My grandfather, on the other hand, retired as a bank Vice President. There were nice cars, golf vacations and, an eventual college education for me. In the rest of the family there was struggling to make ends meet, genetic obesity, diabetes, and even epilepsy. Despite the differences in their lives, the siblings relied on my grandfather for advice, and he was their executor as he gradually outlived them all.
The Rosenbrock siblings at a family reunion in 1972. From L to R - Top Row: Grace, Herman, Lilian. Bottom Row: Barbara, Ken. Missing: Marie. Deceased: Emmet, Fred, Alice and unnamed twins who died in infancy.
At family gatherings, no one talked about anything that wasn’t status quo, other than in whispers away from the children. So what was life like for Marie, living so far away, so removed from her close-knit family?
As a young woman, I found out. I was accepted to a graduate program at Holy Names College in Oakland, California. I went to meet the famous Aunt Marie. At this point, she was in her 90s, childless, and The Doctor was long ago deceased. I had no idea what I would find. Expecting a mansion, I was shocked when the taxi pulled up in a shabby neighborhood of small 1920s one-story bungalows. Was I in the right place?
I was indeed, and Marie was delightful. She made us tea and regaled me with stories of her many travels with The Doctor. They’d done very well for their day, but the picture of flaunted wealth my grandmother had painted was clearly not true. They’d lived in this little house since it was built. Sadly, drugs were changing Marie’s neighborhood for the worse. She was fearful, but she had good neighbors who remained to take care of her. I visited her several times during the year I lived there, and it was always the same – the frail, birdlike woman who had married for love and moved away to create a new life, happily sharing stories and tea with her great-niece from afar.
As a young woman, I found out. I was accepted to a graduate program at Holy Names College in Oakland, California. I went to meet the famous Aunt Marie. At this point, she was in her 90s, childless, and The Doctor was long ago deceased. I had no idea what I would find. Expecting a mansion, I was shocked when the taxi pulled up in a shabby neighborhood of small 1920s one-story bungalows. Was I in the right place?
I was indeed, and Marie was delightful. She made us tea and regaled me with stories of her many travels with The Doctor. They’d done very well for their day, but the picture of flaunted wealth my grandmother had painted was clearly not true. They’d lived in this little house since it was built. Sadly, drugs were changing Marie’s neighborhood for the worse. She was fearful, but she had good neighbors who remained to take care of her. I visited her several times during the year I lived there, and it was always the same – the frail, birdlike woman who had married for love and moved away to create a new life, happily sharing stories and tea with her great-niece from afar.
Marie's house, and a visit with my parents about 5 years before my move to Oakland.
When Marie passed away a few years later, she left me some money – enough for the down payment on my first house. I never expected that, but I was incredibly grateful for the gift that arrived at exactly the right time. In retrospect, I am more grateful for the opportunity to have met someone who courageously stepped outside the family box, who missed them but never looked back while following her own path. Our instantaneous connection remains and continues to lovingly inspire my own journey.
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