The Neises Family
By Grandma Rita
Daddy was one of the younger members of a large family. One child had died as a young girl. I often wondered if maybe that was why Grandma and Grandpa Neises seemed so solemn, that there was deep sorrow or possibly guilt involved.
I have very few memories of Grandpa Neises. He died when I was about nine. He was burning weeds in the yard. The fire got out of control and he had a heart attack. When we got the news, Daddy cried.
I remember Grandma Neises teaching me to write A,B,C.
This was before I went to school. Grandma had a little chest, like a small jewelry box, which she kept on a closet shelf and things that had belonged to Matilda, the daughter who had died suddenly at the table. Since Joan's middle name was Matilda, Joan and I would stand there and look up at the box, and contemplate what marvelous things that box held for Joan. (I believe she got it one day, but I never found out what it contained). Grandma Neises died when I was about 14. Joan and I stayed for the funeral. They had her coffin in the parlor which was almost always closed off by a sliding wooden door. All the relatives filed past. She had always worn a long grey or black dress as if she were in perpetual mourning. When she died, her face looked stern and sad, as I had always remembered it. All the children got a small pile of treasures when the will was read. We got a silver coffee pot, which I remember only as a dull grey object that sat on the China closet.
