Turtle Rock

Moxy is the word that comes to mind when I think of Aunt Paige. One of Ohmer’s four sisters, she was quite colorful, a hard-worker, with a heart of gold, not to mention being the mother of 21 children.

Like Ohmer, she too displayed extraordinary fetes of strength on occasion. I’ve heard stories of her toting two one-hundred pound sacks of beets, one under each arm from the storage shack to the house. Of course, the average person was stronger 100 years ago, after all, life was a great deal more physical then compared to today. Spending much of her time working on the farm like so many other mountain women, she was without a doubt, a Jackson.

Naming so many children might have been a challenge for some, but not Aunt Paige. I can’t help but think of the former Heavyweight Boxing Champion, George Foreman, who named all his sons George when I think of having to name so many children. Aunt Paige, however was a bit more original than George. Inspired by the tomato patch she had been working in prior to giving birth to one of her many children, she named him Cluster. Yes she did!

An exceptional marksman, Aunt Paige would drag a deer out of the woods after shooting it and dress it out all by herself. When she shot a trophy bear, she had it mounted and displayed it proudly. Playing cards was one of her favorite pastimes and she always kept a roll of money pinned to her undergarments in case a game of poker found her. Then it was Katie bar the door! Her love for music was such that she couldn’t resist cutting a rug whenever the opportunity presented itself and she could dance for hours.

A youthful 98 year-old, Aunt Paige showed no signs of slowing down. Ohmer once went to pay her a visit and found her up a tree, trimming branches. After talking her down and into the house, a squirrel outside her kitchen window caught her attention. Immediately dashing into the other room, she fetched her rifle. Upon her return, she aimed the barrel through that kitchen window, zeroed in on the squirrel and shot it dead before scuffling outside to bring it back into the house where she dressed it out and had it for supper that evening.

When she was no longer able to care for herself, she was placed in a convalescent home, against her wishes I might add, where she could continue being somewhat active. One day, in fact, while playing catch with one of the other resident’s, a very frisky Aunt Paige threw the ball so hard that it knocked him out of his chair. The nurse, knowing all too well, Aunt Paige’s temper, scolded her, saying, “Okay Paige, you know you ain’t supposed to throw the ball that hard.” Smiling back at the nurse and knowing she just got away with something, she agreed to behave from then on.

The first time she received visitors, she became enthusiastically excited. Thinking her son, Bradley had come to take her home. She said, “you gonna take me home?” Before Bradley and his wife could respond, scampering away, she added, “I’ll be ready in just a minute.” She returned with a pillowcase filled with her belongings slung over her shoulder, exclaiming, “I’m ready to go now!” The nurse was then summoned to explain to her that she couldn’t leave without the doctor’s orders. Not easily discouraged, Aunt Paige said, “I ain’t seen no doctor” before demanding that he hurry and get there. Unfortunately, the doctor never showed up and she wasn’t allowed to leave.

Not long before her centennial birthday, Aunt Paige was walking down one of the hallways of the convalescent home when she collapsed and fell to the floor, never recovering.

I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s always worth mentioning again; as far as I’m concerned because you just can’t make this stuff up. I mean, I wouldn’t have believed it myself it if it didn’t actually happened to me. While I have met some of Aunt Paige’s children, I never had the pleasure of knowing or meeting her. I didn’t even know of her until about 15 years ago. One of the strange coincidences in my life was the fact that my first granddaughter, Madison Paige, was born 25 years ago, long before I knew anything about my biological family. Making this story even more incredible was the name Madison because that’s where I later learned I was actually born, in lieu of what my birth certificate reflects. If it sounds too good to be true, it must be Twice Delivered.

One if my younger sisters, Darlene, was forced to retire when she began to experience memory lapses at work about ten years ago as best I can remember. It was about two years ago when our paths crossed at one of her grandchildren’s ballgames and she no longer recognized me. Heartbroken, I did however, give her a hug after a very brief conversation before going our separate ways. That’s the last time I saw her. Even though ours was a very brief relationship, I will always cherish my memories of her. Bed-ridden now, she no longer recognizes anyone. The hardest part to accept is that before she began her decline, her husband forbade her to see Jeanette, any of her children, and me and refuses to give us an explanation why.

Dinah, Cheryl, and Susan are the only siblings that he allows to visit her. Dinah recently managed to sneak a picture of her without his knowledge before sharing it with Jeanette who in turn, shared it with me. Her hair is now completely white and she remains as beautiful as ever, however no longer the cantankerous person she had always been. Much to his credit, however, her husband seems to be taking good care of her at home with the help of hospice I’m told, and I’m very thankful for that even though he wouldn’t give me the time of day.

There is so much more from my story, I truly don’t know where to go from here at the moment. I do promise to document it here as I think of it. Rest assured however that I will continue commenting here from time to time. So, until then, God bless you all and be well.