Clarice Goebel Williams 1929 - 2009

Clarice Goebel Williams was my only female cousin. Well, actually she was only one of two cousins on my mother's side.

Clarice was my mother's cousin, so she would be my second cousin.

When I was growing up in the home of my father's sister and brother-in-law, who were much, much older, with married children who had children of their own, my summer vacations consisted of a one week trip to visit "Great Aunt May and Uncle Bill Goebel" and their two children Clarice and Paul. The trips to Lakewood to the house on Lincoln where the cousins would take a gangly, scrawny, tall kid with unruly hair to the Franklin Ice Cream store for a chocolate chip ice cream cone. Where I could sit on one of the two built-in benches on their front porch and attend mass at St. Clements Church.

Where I could later go to Gates Mills and visit the brick house on the huge, huge lot and Aunt May would prepare peeled and sliced oranges sprinkled with sugar on a breakfast tray for me.
Where Clarice (the College Girl at Notre Dame) and Paul, the high school senior would take time to sit at the spinet piano and teach me to play "Heart and Soul" and I played and played until I'm sure someone would slam the lid down on the keys.

Where I would sit in awe and watch Clarice come down the stairs in a silky gown that she had made herself.

Where later I attended her wedding in Westlake. Where later I attended the funerals of both Aunt May and Uncle Bill.

My happiest childhood memories were created by this family. The prom dress Aunt May bought me at Halle Bros. The lunches at Heilman's restaurant in Lorain. The blanket in the back seat of their car to keep me and my brother Bill from getting cold in the winter.

All of these wonderful memories tumbled back into my head last evening when I received the phone call from Clarice's son, John.

"Hi Judy, I am calling to tell you Mom passed away"!

She had moved to Florida to be close to her only child, but her only son's wife despised her.
So Clarice just faded away in Florida. Never to be invited to a meal at her son's home, or taken to church by him or welcomed into his home.

She lived in a senior complex a few miles away. When I would call, she seemed to be getting further and further away, as dementia overtook her mind. She would wait for the phone to ring. And wait, and wait.

Now she is gone and the waiting is over. She was 80. Just a few years older than me.

But now her constant talking has found new ears, and perhaps old ears too!

The art above is a painting she did that was put into the 2003 calendar for the Harford Art, Maryland annual Art Calendar month of May.

It seems we all would get tired of her non stop talking, reminiscing and chattering all the time.

Well,......I wish I could hear her now.