Death of A Cousin

   The Barrett twins, daughters of my father's sister Kate.  They used to visit us fairly regularly, after my parents bought the home they grew up in.  They were somewhere midway between us kids and our parents' generation.  They were born in 1920 and my mother was born in 1905.  I remember visiting their mother's house in the "luxury section of Lansingburgh."   I knew it was upperclass because of the "boulevard" dividing the street they lived on. One time, while we kids sat on the couch in their living room, we (at least my sister and I) were given some stuffed animals of the girls' that their mother still had.  I remember getting a little black dog with a red collar, which I kept a long time, was probably still in my old house when I moved out.
   The twins were the youngest in their family, and some of the older Valley Falls people I knew would comment on them from time to time, always in the most favorable terms.  They were invariably cheerful and very pretty.  My mother really liked them.  I remember kind of veiled references to their older sisters, probably overheard in conversations between my mother and Frank's wife, Mary.  The references were hushed; I think alcoholism and/or nervous breakdown problems may have been issues, subjects unspoken of in those days. And it could have been that Elizabeth ran a nursing home and may have become a patient there.  I could straighten it out if I could just ask my mother or Aunt Mary.  Now forever lost in the dust of time.
    When we moved to Valley Falls it was my mother's doing.  She had learned that "the house" was going to be sold, and my poor mother must have been desperate for a  place of her own where her kids could go to school, where she could own animals, and plant a garden, and where she wouldn't be isolated in a rented home in the country to fend for herself all day when her husband was at work. Life was hard for her; this house,the first house, out of the 5 where she lived in her early marriage years, was the first with electricity.
     I recall my mother sitting at her kitchen table, writing letters to make things happen.Letters to the seller--- How much was the sale price?   How much would the down payment be?  Letter to her brother Matt--Could he loan enough for the down payment?  Questions my father would have been too proud to ask, for  a transaction he thought was hopeless. But it worked out.  I think the house sold for $1500, or maybe $1200. I know Matt lent the money for the down payment.  The letter M was on our calendar at regular intervals. I asked my mother what it meant, and she told me it was the payback schedule, probably for $250 or so, but a lot of money back then, especially for our family.
    I believe this to be the reason for the sale:  Pete Barrett was mean, and hard to live with. When the twins married, they loved their mother and evidently wanted to salvage some peace for her.  I think she lived with one or the other after that. One son-in-law traveled to different cities on business, and we had a series of post cards Kate would send, as they took her with them on their travels.  My mother was so impressed with that. Of course I'm probably sketchy on a lot of details, but I think when they "separated" Pete moved upstreet into that large brick building across from Spences/ Schroders.
  When we moved in, the original house had been added to, the section with no basement, only a dirt crawl space underneath.  We kids used to scare ourselves, and others, with what might have lain beneath in that dark, creepy cavern of dirt.
   The addition was built as a bar which Pete Barrett ran,  Above it was a kind of suite built for the twins.  There was a large central room and 2 smaller individual bedrooms, one for each of the girls.  I had always hoped and fantasized that those rooms could be the same for Dorothy and me.  We even picked out which we wanted:  Dorothy chose the one in front with the view of the river.  Those hopes were squashed when Helen came to live with us, and I confess I resented it because of our lost dream.  When my father did the rooms over, and stripped the wallpaper off, the bare plaster walls  underneath were decorated with the twins' carefully scrolled autographs and pictures of flowers.
  Once, when we were older, I had a conversation with one of the twins about their days living in the house, such favorable memories they had.  They used to take the train to Troy, to college and later  to work,  and then for fun, often go back for the night time happenings.  They were pretty and popular,had many friends, and enjoyed life. She said one night, as often happened, a friend was sleeping over.  I think she said they were in the upstairs  bedroom of the main house when the friend awoke screaming, scared to death.  A train had passed by in the night and its headlight reflected on the bedroom wall and along with the noise and the whistle, the poor girl had thought the world was coming to an end.
   The last conversation I remember having, I think it was with  Kay, was at Gene Madigan's wedding, when she asked me to settle a difference she was having with her husband.  It was about identifying which was  the sister of Gene's bride, and which was her mother. She was right and I told her so.  She said, "Men!"
   They always connected with marriages and deaths in the family, via mail after they moved away.  The last contact we had was when one of the twins sent us a Troy Record clipping with picture of one of Marilyn's accomplishments.
  The good old days...