Beth's Specialties

She was always the reason we all got together. We called her the peacemaker. When my dad and his brothers would be too proud to talk to each other because of some stupid disagreement over the make of a car or a bad game of horse shoes, Aunt Beth would fuss at them until they worked it out.
“You men are stuck with each other forever, so you might as well work it out now!”

Birthday parties were another one of Aunt Beth’s specialties. She was always inviting the entire family over and she was always persistent, never giving them a chance to say no. When Aunt Beth invited you, you went. At every party her house was full of overweight, obnoxious musicians. When we were done eating Aunt Beth’s famous homemade fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and corn on the cob, we would gather in the living room and sing from old hymnals. Uncle Danny played the guitar; Cousin Suzette missed keys on the old wooden piano and Aunt Beth over harmonized, singing loudly off pitch. We all noticed but we knew she was just excited about singing to the Lord.
This evening would be different. Aunt Beth’s recipe of fried chicken and mashed potatoes wouldn’t taste quite right. Dad would try and crack a corny joke to help make light of the situation. Even if his joke was funny it couldn't make any of us feel better. The sound of Aunt Beth’s voice would make us feel better, or the smell of her old lady Chanel number 5 perfume left on our clothes after a soothing hug from her. The way she snorted when she laughed or how she obviously cheated at monopoly would make me feel better.

“How great thou art, how great thou art” we sang in the salmon decorated living room. I sat next to Uncle James and put my hand in his wrinkled arthritic hands. At first he didn’t sing, he just looked at me and smiled. The family sounded different this time. We sounded like a well rehearsed choir, our voices were harmonized perfectly. Aunt Beth wouldn’t be the star of our show this time, or ever again.