uncle mert

Merton was my mother’s brother.

Mom was born in Nebraska, but at 6 weeks of age her parents moved west to Idaho. Her brother Merton was born here.

I saw Uncle Mert a lot more than the other uncles. His parents lived in my town and though he had a busy professional life, he came to visit regularly.

He graduated from high school here, then went to Portland, Oregon. I am not sure of the exact order of things, but her married Hazel, worked for the railroad, was in the Navy in WWII and went to college.

His Navy service was aboard a submarine. Those were the diesel/electric subs that were pretty small compared to the newer ones. Nothing was ever said about his service except that he was a Machinist Mate. Whatever the stories that might have been told, were not and now are lost.

Hazel was a very capable woman. She managed a series of restaurants. I remember her well. Her hard work made education possible for Uncle. It seems to me that she worked even after Uncle set up his Dental practice.

With Hazel’s hard work and the GI bill, he went to college and then to Dental School. Grandma had a portrait of him in his graduate regalia. He was a great looking guy.

He practiced dentistry in Portland. (I always wanted to use that term: “I practice tile work”).

In mid life Uncle divorced Hazel and married Barbara. By the way:I had two aunt Barbaras. Uncle Wayne, my fathers youngest brothers wife as well as my Uncle Mert, who was my mother’s brother.

Mert’s Barbara was bit older than me and quite a bit younger than him. She was exceedingly vivacious and was fun to be around. I can see why he liked her. They moved into her small but well designed house.

One day Mert climbed up in a cherry tree, in Barbara’s back yard to do some trimming and fell. He had some head injury, but recovered, it seemed. That trauma did bring on Early Onset Alzheimer’s, however.

We did not know too many details. But Barbara would call me occasionally. She would wake up in the middle of the night and he would be gone. Sometimes the police would call and say they had found him driving the wrong way on a one way street in the middle of the night. She would hide the keys, but he had another set. It was rough on her.

Eventually she had to put him in a nursing home, but he did not live too much longer. We were in Texas when he died. She called me and gave me the news. There was no service. He did not have any children.

It is curious that relatives like this are around a fair amount, but we rarely get to sit and talk seriously with them. I did only once with Mert, when I was visiting he and Barbara in Portland.

Unfortunately Aunt Barbara also died a few years ago, after a long struggle with cancer. As far as I know Aunt Hazel is still living. One aunt keeps in touch with her.

Uncle Mert was a good man and an addition to his community, but some how by not having any children he stopped his story. Children are not a cure, but I will wonder if he and Hazel had had children, if it might have all come out a bit better.

Then maybe he would not have climbed that blasted cherry tree.