For years, my aunt Anna was the pharmacist at my uncle Louis Cleages clinic. When we went to the doctor’s, my sister, mother and I would stop in the back for a visit with her. Sometimes she would give us things that I guess were trinkets from the drug salesman. The only one I remember was a pile of what looked like pennies painted a gold color and glued to look like a heap.
Many year later, when I was grown and living in Idlewild with a family of my own, I would always stop by and visit my aunt and uncle, Anna and Winslow in Detroit. They both had great memories and a wealth of family stories. I would drink tea and eat cookies or something while they told me tales of the family’s past.
Anna had a distinctive laugh and my daughter Ife sometimes laughs in the same way. I do miss them still and wonder what stories we never got around to.
Other posts about Anna
Anna, Gladys and the Dog
The Cleage Sisters at Home
10 thoughts on “Anna Cecelia Cleage Shreve 1925 – 2013”
I really appreciate you and this blog. Nikki
Thanks Nikki. Good to see a comment from you hear.
What a beautiful (and intelligent!) woman, and how lucky you were to have had those times with stories with her.
I even got her on tape once at a family gathering. The quality isn’t good because so much was going on at the same time, but I captured a very touching story about my grandfather and his brother, in her own word.
What a lovely tribute to your aunt. Your comment about how you “wonder what stories we never got around to” really resonated with me. The older I get, the more I ponder the stories that I never got around to talking about with my relatives.
I think we would look for different stories now that we’re older. But how do you know when you’re young what you will need?
I am haunted by the stories we never get around to. You are so wise to collect them with intention.
The story tellers of the last generation are gone and now it’s a matter of sharing memories with my generation.
Yes, we collect the stories we can .
I suspect we recieve the ones we need the most?
We receive the ones we need the most at the time we receive them, I think. I also believe we may need different stories as we age and by then the story tellers are gone.
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