mitch and aunt yvonne lived on a huge farm in the heart of amish country, complete with barns, cows, horses, a pond, fields of produce, and five kids to work it. for an animal crazy girl, it was heaven on earth. i got to pet the baby cow (without realising what its' future actually held). i got to ride the horse. one lucky summer, i got to play with chow chow puppies. sometimes i'd help with the chores, baling hay or harvesting (and then canning) corn.
but mostly it was playtime for me. my cousin carmella introduced me to barry manilow there. i did gymnastics and routines on the swingset there. i watched princess diana get married there. i saw my first pg rated movie (foul play) there. we went swimming and played putt putt at the park in the middle of town. i spent almost every night at the farm.
i don't remember many specific conversations with aunt yvonne and uncle mitch. for me, i remember the things we did. they were the first family i knew who had a microwave oven. (that was the summer of the hot dog.) yvonne worked all the time, and mitch was always working hard around the farm. he was a revelation to an impressionable and somewhat sheltered young girl from the suburbs. he swore. he had a temper. he was loud. he didn't allow for squeemishness when it came to possibly slimey things you'd encounter when swimming in the pond. if memory doesn't fail, he was for ronald reagan back in 1976. before he built his farm, he was a cop. then he started a moving company, and later, an orchard and an outdoor supply store. uncle mitch marched to his own drummer, and i loved him.
sometimes you don't realise how much someone has influenced your life until it's too late. unconsciously, i learned from uncle mitch that it was ok to speak up for yourself and to BE yourself. mitch died a few days before thanksgiving. thank you uncle mitch.
