The Attic: A Memoir

Bertha's Time

BERTHA'S TIME Under the eaves, where as children Lois and I never penetrated, we now find early rural school readers and exercise books, German language children's tales, a set ofetchedfingerbowls, a brokendouble-globedkerosene lamp ofthekind antiquedealerscall "GoneWith theWind," and two diaries by my father's sisters: Elizabeth's covers her first year at Cedar Falls Normal School in 1907; Bertha's records the year 1913, when she turns twenty-seven. I tuck them in a pocket for careful perusal later. Bertha's diary was perhaps undertaken as a New Year's resolution. The lined notepad surely wasn't a Christmas gift, for it's an ordinary sort, available in any notions store of the time. She would set herself the task ofjotting down remarks about each day, to see if she could, and to test her powers of determination, her character. Making faithful entries would prove hermettle, at least to herself. Nobody was expected to read it, and she herself forgot the diary in her move to town with her parents seven years later. "Happy New Year 1913," she begins, and certainly it starts off that way, with cousins Herman and Will Katter as houseguests and Elizabeth homefor theholidaysfrom teaching. "Have potatoes,roast goose, dressing,citron pickles, peas, apple and banana salad, tapioca pudding. Sit in front room and talk, later take Kodak pictures. Then make ice cream. Dress and get things ready for our evening party. Have a crowd ofthirty-five." They play Show and Blindman's Bluff and finish by eating "chicken sandwiches, pickles, light and dark cake, pink and white ice cream with cherries and apples." Next day "us three 'spinsters"'-herself, Elizabeth, and Anna-walk half a mile to a neighbors' and stay for supper, then home "to visit with the boys again. Lots of fun." She cites further holiday activities-a movie at the Mystic, get-togethers in various relatives' homes: "Have a dandy fine time ... Especially the wrestling 89 90 TIlE ATTIC match between Anna and Will." At season's end, Bertha's cousins leave and Elizabeth returns to teaching. "Clean up the whole house after they are gone. Feel very punk." And no wonder, for she lives on the euphoria of parties and social activities, since her ordinary daily routine consists of housework. Fortunately, a neighbor six miles down the road invites Anna and Bertha for an oyster supper. "Home at about three." The scandalously late hour is proof to her scribe-self that she's still gadding about. Allowed to sleep until eleven, she offsets her sloth by doing fancywork and writing letters. The very next night, a young man's birthday party. "Have a fine time and splendid supper. Home at two." After the holiday binge, the diary entries tum meager and sad. Shedoesn't bother to attend church on Sunday. "Arise at nine. Clean upstairs, dress, practice, read in Bible. Afternoon, read At Cloudy Pass. Evening at home and fool around." Once on her normal schedule,the writingconsistsofan almostimpersonalrecording: type ofdress she's sewing, what the weather's like, the bedtime hour; it's typical of any nonliterary, unself-conscious diary. No attempts to examine what is happening or why; no inner dialogue. Madchen Bertha, with her fair hair, strong cheekbones, pleasing Teutonic features, attractive clothes, and fun-loving manner,merely setsdown the obvious. And yet the deeper motive for this diary writing is a yearning to come to terms with the passage of time in order to understand the meaning ofher life, though this is never stated. I will have to fill in some of the gaps from the vantage point of decades later, long after her life achieved its shape. Every child should be lucky enough to have an Aunt Bertha, available for fondling and hand-paddling, with an amplelap to climb up on. We did a lot ofkissing and were foolish together, playing silly games. Her black seal coat in winter was great to stroke and awfully warm inside. Living in town with Grandma, running her store, she seemed happy enough. Sometimes among ourselves we might impudently specUlate about Bertha's marrying, but we knew it was probably too late and had never heard of any interested suitor. She served as an adjunct parent, somebody always around, looking out for our interests-an ally, not a spy from the adult world. She had a lively mind, enjoyed reading, was musical. Why hadn't she become a teacher, like my mother and Bertha's sisters, Elizabeth...