Doctor Kelly’s Husband Part 2

 

As I wrote in Part 1, Papa (my father) and Nana (his mother and my grandmother) were living with Nana's mother (my great-grandmother) in Wilkinsburg, Pennsylvania when Papa’s father/Nana’s husband committed suicide on December 22, 1916, in Wilmington, DE.  Nana lived with Papa for the rest of her life. Even after he married and had children, Nana was a constant in his life and in ours.

Given all of that drama, I always assumed that Nana and Papa had a challenging, difficult, perhaps even sad relationship.  As I wrote in Part 1, my father never wanted to talk about his life before his marriage. From bits and pieces of household conversation, I gathered that things were not always rosy in the Trower/Kelly household.  My great-grandmother was Mary K. Brown until she married Lee Trower in 1887.  Something happened that resulted in Lee Trower moving out of the house.  The 1930 Census data shows that he lived as a "lodger" with a woman named Dorothy Watson until his death in 1944.  I wish I could figure out what the heck happened, because apparently my father was involved...it remains a mystery, despite all of my digging.  I wonder what happened in 1927, the year that "the last trouble seventeen years ago" Papa mentions in his June 25, 1944, letter.  Hmmm...the 1930 Census shows Lee Trower as a lodger in Dorothy Watson's home.  The same Dorothy Watson is named as the Executor of Lee Trower's estate according to the July 28, 1944, edition of the Pittsburgh Press.  I can only imagine the effect all of that had on Papa, Nana, and Mom.

A few months before my Lee Trower's death, my father was drafted.  He was 34 years old in 1943 when he was called to serve in World War 2. He and Nana exchanged a LOT of letters while Papa was in the Army.  Nana saved many, if not all of the letters; I have 102 of them that Papa sent from various secret locations from 1943 to 1945.  I also have 10 tiny (1 and 1/2 by 1 and 1/2 inches) pictures with penciled labels such as Manila, Chinese Temple, Jones Bridge, Intramuros, etc.  All of Papa's letters to Nana began with, "Dear Mother," and ended with, " Your Loving Son, Cy."  I learned that he called my Nana "Mother" and called his grandmother, "Mom."  Weird...

I was truly surprised at the obvious affection and care that was evident in the letters Papa sent. There was only one mention of my great-grandfather in the letters, and it was acknowledging his death.  Lee Trower died on June 18, 1944.  In his letter dated June 25,1944, Papa wrote to Nana, "So, it's over!  Although it is not nice to say I guess I am glad he is dead.  But only because I wanted all of us to be here at the finish.  Sorry I was among the missing since I was the source of the last trouble seventeen years ago."  In another letter dated June 27, Papa wrote, "Still rather shocked over the old man's death, but glad that episode is over.  Think all of us were under a strain as long as he lived."  

So, that was interesting...and mysterious...and awful. For myself, I am glad that I finally read all those letters.  God knows how I ended up with them, but everything happens for a reason.  Now I know that Papa and Nana had a loving relationship; this gives me a sense of peace.  When I was growing up, I didn't pay much attention to Nana; she was always just part of the family.  I realize now that she was a great help to my parents when my sister and I were growing up.  Both of my parents worked, so having Nana to take care of us and cook dinner when my mom was stuck at the hospital delivering babies and my father was working in Philadelphia...well, I guess I took all of that for granted.  

But this is about my Papa, Doctor Kelly's husband.  He was a good man, an honest man, a caring and loving man.  Also, compared to the other fathers I knew, he was an old man!  Seriously, he was 44 years old when he married my mother.  That was OLD back then!

There is one more important fact about my father:  he was kind.  One of our neighbors had a daughter not much older than I.  MaryAnn had Multiple Sclerosis.  I remember that my sister and I never wanted to go to MaryAnn's birthday parties because she was so hard to understand and so seemingly crippled.  We weren't particularly kind to MaryAnn.  

MaryAnn walked her dog past our house every day.  When she saw my father in the yard, she always shouted happily, "Hello, Mister Kelly!!!" and my father would say hello right back, then invite her to join him.  He and MaryAnn sat and talked while he petted her dog.  Thinking about him now, how kind and caring he was to MaryAnn, makes me cry...but it also makes me remember how much more he was than "Dr. Kelly's Husband."  He never spoke about all that he had endured in his life, and believe me, I really tried to get all of that out of him.  But most of his life was sad, and he didn't want to share that with me.  I understand that now.   When I think of him, I remember his sweetness to MaryAnn.  Papa was a good and kind man who served his country, took care of his mother and grandmother, and loved his wife and daughters.  My Papa was so much more than Doctor Kelly's husband.