Each time I prepare salmon for dinner I am reminded of my home town and the years spent enjoying the ‘fruits de mer’ from the ice-cold waters of NeahBay in Washington. In 1940, this small town was surrounded by forests on one side and the Pacific Ocean on the other. It was there that I learned my first ‘swear words’ from my Uncle Louie, a tough and hard-working logger who I stayed with one summer. My Aunt Ardis was a gentle soul, always busying herself with her garden and cooking some of the best fish from the ocean that I still remember fondly.
At the end of the day, Uncle Louie would stop at the Indian campsites, where row after row, hanging from poles, salmon would be smoking. My uncle would bargain with these Makah Tribesmen, and after sharing some of his whiskey with them, (that he kept in the cab of the truck) we would head home. My aunt would be ready with a delicious cream sauce into which she would slide those slabs of salmon. A pile of toast made from homemade bread was awaiting that salmon and sauce.
That summer, when I was seven, I learned many things, and the worst were the new words that I had learned from Uncle Louie and the other loggers.
After summer, I returned to the Convent’s school with my new and somewhat shocking language. The dear Sisters were, unfortunately, subjected to my new vocabulary. However, they were adamant about making a quick and final cleansing of my young mouth. Over a short period of time they were able to put my ‘lumberman’s language’ to rest.
Last month, when my True Tales writing group was given the task of writing about our own personal “Bucket List,” I recalled my Uncle Louie’s language as I considered how to write about such a foreign subject. Dwelling on my demise is not a trap that I allow myself to fall into; what can be gained by writing on a sheet of paper what I want to accomplish before the ‘bell tolls for me?’
That was when the ‘Letter’ arrived. “Mrs. Colletta Gruczelak,” I read as I held it in my hand.
I hesitated to open the licked-tight envelope. I sat in my chair next to the window and reached for my letter opener — a knife left over from my dinner — a few streaks of dried ketchup still on its serrated blade. Quickly I made a neat cut through the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper with an invitation on one side, and a religious message of ‘why I was put on this earth’ on the other. A mere ‘drop in the bucket’ of what I expected the envelope to hold.
“Dear Girls,” the invitation read, “it is time now to look ahead to our Visitation Villa Reunion. This will be our LAST REUNION as our age, health and limited driving ability has gradually reached their acceptable limits,” it said.
“Therefore we, Visitation Villa women, will be sharing friendship and news of our old friends on Monday Sept. 14, in Tacoma where our old convent once stood.”
The last line read —”Colletta, I want you to stay with me, probably for the last time. Love Marion”
Good grief — I felt as though the “Bucket had been kicked out from under me” — I sat there, my coffee now cold and uninviting.
The handwriting was on the wall. The women seemed to be bent on having one last go at it, and wanted me to be a part of it.
Well, I am going; my reservations have been made on Amtrak, where I can sit and enjoy the beautiful pacific coast where my first 18 years of life were spent.
I will attend this planned “Reunion,” but not with the word “last” in my mind. I’ll look into the faces of my classmates, not as they are today, but remembering fresh young faces, curly brown shoulder-length hair, and some golden-colored locks. They will all walk straight and tall, their voices clear and strong as the lovely young girls they were. Fresh, honest and pure, none spoiled by what was to come in the future — laughter spilling from their very being.
I will make my speech as I pour from the bottle of champagne that I will bring with me.
“Come-on — all of you ladies — get your heads out of your buckets; get out of your chairs and enjoy a bucket full of Champagne along with me.”
Grilled Salmon Marinade
1 Tbsp. crushed fresh gingerroot
1 clove diced garlic
2 Tbsp. Mirin Vinegar
2 Tbsp. light brown sugar
2 Tbsp. olive oil
1 pinch crushed dried red pepper flakes
2 Tbsp. soy sauce
1 tsp salt
¼ tsp black pepper
Mix well and marinate salmon filets for two hours.
Grill on medium heat, skin side down 10-15 min with lid closed.
