It is 1994. I’m 80 years old. I’ve slowed down and have
time to look through my old scrapbooks and photo albums and the piles of
stories I wrote. Some stories were published. Some were not.
I asked my husband Rolland Metzger to move the files and boxes filled with my
writing into the dining room and to pull down the scrapbooks and photo albums
from the closet shelf. They’re on the floor and on the dining room table -- no
room for dinner but who cares? I was never much of a cook; the best I can
do most nights for Rolland and me is to heat up a can of spaghetti and meat
sauce or a can of soup or throw together some sandwiches. And thankfully
he is OK eating my meager offerings at our small kitchen table.
The first thing I find is my Theodore Roosevelt High School
graduation yearbook from 1932. When I look at my graduation photo, I remember . . .
My first name was Clara in the yearbook, and also my few high school activities (Civics Club, Spanish Club, and G.A.A.) were listed, as well as the college I planned to attend, the University of Illinois. And in the yearbook by my photo was an inscription I wrote, which reads: "Luck success & what not to All -- Clara Le Brint Topsy," My nickname in high school
was “Topsy,” given to me by friends because my hair usually curled every which
way.
I never went to the University of Illinois (in Champaign/Urbana); it was a pipe dream. Instead after high school, I went to Crane Junior
College, sadly only for one year. Around the same time, I changed my name from
Clara to Claire which seemed to me more American, more grown up. However, today
thinking about my birth name Clara, I remember two romantic encounters I had with very different guys when I was in my late teens and twenties. They both called me Clara;
they considered it (and they considered me)
romantic, fanciful and fascinating. And at the time I most certainly was!
Rolland and I live
in Dixon, Illinois. But Rol has a home in Chicago and we used to visit there
regularly. Not so much these days. I used to be busy working, writing and
getting some stories published, volunteering, helping friends, meeting new
people, and traveling to Chicago and other far-off places. But I’m not doing
that anymore. I’m old and more tired these days then I used to be. These days, I don’t have much to
do except visit with friends at the Dixon Senior Center or with Rolland when
he’s at home. Rol is eight years my junior and still out and about with
activities, hobbies, and paid work as a part-time accountant and tax-preparer.
So I sit at my dining room table picking up one thing and
putting it down and picking up the next thing. Nothing is in order but I find many treasures, including a three-page handwritten biography written in 1991 by a Dixon friend, titled The Life of Claire
Metzger. She asked me lots of
questions about my life and wrote this story, as a way of honoring our
friendship. Right away, two little white lies jump out at me – the year of my
birth and my age when I met Rolland. Here’s what she wrote.
The world was
blessed on April 5, 1933. Claire Metzger, formerly Claire LeBrint, was
born in Chicago, Illinois.
…When Claire
was 34, she met her husband-to-be Rolland Metzger at a Jewish Temple. They
didn’t mean to meet; actually, Claire was there to meet another boy to watch a
play, but she was stood up and Rolland came up to her and asked if she wanted
any coffee, and they both stayed for the play. After the play, Rolland asked
Claire if he could walk her home because they had found out that they actually
lived on the same street and she accepted. So every time Rolland came into town
they would see each other.
My dear friend and biographer insisted that my life story start with
my birth date including the year, which I told her was 1933, even though I was
born in 1914. She also insisted that we include my age when I met Rolland. I
fudged that one too. We met when I was 46, not 34! I never told
anyone in Dixon my true age; I told them I felt “ageless.” My Dixon friends and
admirers thought I was younger than my real age, so there was no harm done.
Whew, I’m glad the truth is finally out. I’m an old lady now so
what do I care if you know my exact age. To keep it straight in my mind and
help you, dear reader, know the significant dates in my life, here they are:
April 5, 1914: I was born on the West side of Chicago.
June 14 1922: Rolland Metzger was born.
Winter 1959: Rolland and I met at a Jewish Singles event in
Chicago.
March 25, 1967 Rolland and I married. I was 53 and my young
bridegroom was almost 45 years old.
Starting a few years after we met, Rol repeatedly asked me to
marry him and I put him off. I had been single for a long time and had pretty
much given up on marriage. Of the Jewish men I met, either I rejected them or
they rejected me. When Rolland came along, being indecisive by nature and having
made a nice life for myself as a confirmed spinster, I couldn’t make up my mind
about marrying him. Finally, in 1967, I decided “yes.” He was too
nice a guy to let go. But I was plenty nervous, and ten days before we married,
I shared some of my worries with him in a note that I discovered in my piles
and files.
In case you can't read my handwriting, the note says: "Please never ask me to make a decision late in the eve -- or night -- It wearies me, and invariably I feel pressed and pressured. Probably you do too? So I beg you -- in all things don't set deadlines or rushes lest good judgement gives way to exasperation and error."
After we married, I never had to “make a decision late in the
eve,” but sometimes, especially when we were planning trips (for tax
conferences or to visit family out of town), he did “set up deadlines”
but his good judgement ensured there were few insurmountable
errors. Also after we married, with my dear husband's love and encouragement, I became a
professional writer.
Claire LeBrint Metzger, of blessed memory, is Betsy Fuchs' aunt. For more Clara stories, you can purchase the book: Twists and Turns There Once Was a Dream, an imagined memoir based on the life of Betsy's Aunt Claire.
Paperback and Kindle versions are available from Amazon.com, or you can purchase the book directly from Betsy by emailing her at betsywfuchs@gmail.com
COST: Paperback $10.00 KINDLE $3.99
