Before I was ten, my mother used to take me to visit her Aunt Mae and Uncle Charlie. They lived farther south in Winnipeg than we did, so the adventure always began with that most exotic of outings, a bus ride! We had no car, and I had no father, as far as I knew, so an excursion like this was already pretty special!
Aunt Mae and Uncle Charlie lived in a rather posh apartment building, and everything in their apartment was OLD – very old! Visiting there was very special, and EVERYTHING I saw there was equally special! Uncle Charlie had worked in the Far East somewhere, and he had brought back a small collection of carved wooden elephants: different sizes, some trunks up and some trunks down – I knew there was something special about that, but couldn’t ever remember which were the good ones!
I knew I mustn’t touch anything, so I always stood with my hands behind my back, standing on my tiptoes to view those wonderful beasts. I remember thinking that I was probably just as afraid of Uncle Charlie as I would have been of the elephants! He was my mother’s uncle. I couldn’t figure out how he could be my mother’s uncle – only kids had uncles . . . Uncle Charlie was a tall, military-looking gentleman – always seemed pretty stiff and formal to me, but it was his elephants which completely centered each visit! How I loved those elephants!
In 1957 we moved to northern Ontario, and I never saw Aunt Mae, Uncle Charlie, nor the elephants again, until quite a few years later. It was after the death of one or both of them when a package arrived with some things from them, sent by their daughter Kathleen. And there were the elephants! My mother gave them to me, and I was more than thrilled! Imagine – I had 4 elephants of my own!
Life took its course yet again, and first my mother passed away, and then my stepfather. Shortly after his passing, I drove with a friend from London up to the north shore of Lake Superior, to retrieve some furniture items and other things from my stepfather’s house, which was to be sold. We brought the Jacobean table (whatever that is!), an old desk, and a lamp with Inuit carvings on it – things my mother had cherished. I put the desk and table in my music room, and the lamp went in the living room. And life went on.
Several years later, for some reason long forgotten, I was looking at the elephants – again trying to remember which position was good luck, trunks up or down. Still couldn’t figure it out, but it really didn’t matter. Again for some unknown reason, I decided to move the elephants from wherever I had them, into my music room. The old desk I had brought from the north (which I am told should be called a ‘secretary’) had a flat top with a little wooden railing at the sides and back, and it struck me that that might be a good place for the elephants. So I put them there.
Satisfied that they looked good there, I stepped back a pace to admire the way I had placed them. I suddenly felt faint, and dropped slowly to my knees.
As I knelt there, looking up at those elephants, I realized that I had placed them on Uncle Charlie’s old desk – the very desk I had looked up at, hands behind my back, so many, many years ago! The desk had been so tall – taller than I was – and there on my knees I briefly relived a visit to Aunt Mae and Uncle Charlie, back in Winnipeg in the 50s!
I have grown taller than the desk, but every time I walk past it, to this day, I remember being 8-9 years old, and the great reverence I had for those elephants – these elephants! – and that desk!
© Brian Hubelit ~ Nov. 15, 2015
Bio: – – Brian Hubelit enjoyed music and poetry from an early age, and dedicated his life to church music. He also wrote poetry and prose from an early age. He has composed vocal music throughout his life, and has published two books of haiku poetry.