This month, Fabulous Florida Writers is pleased
to welcome guest blogger, Catherine Underhill Fitzpatrick. Catherine is the
author of two novels, and her articles, stories, and essays have
appeared in numerous newspapers, literary reviews, magazines, and anthologies.
Her new family memoir, Voyage: A Memoir of Love, War, and Ever After,
is a family saga that spans five generations. Catherine was our featured writer
on July 2, 2016.
What to
do when you're cleaning out closets in your childhood home and discover a
hidden cache of love letters and fading photographs of relatives you never knew
existed? If you're a former newspaper feature writer and the author of two
novels, you write a memoir. For some time, I'd been thinking of
researching my family story. When I lifted the lid of an old wood trunk and
found more than 100 World War II letters and a velvet-covered photo album, I
knew I'd hit the jackpot.
After my dad died, Mom went downhill. In the end, two of my brothers kept vigil with me at St. John’s Mercy Medical Center. It was early December. I sang Christmas carols at her bedside, book-ending the lullabies, she sang to me decades earlier. Beneath the sheet, she tapped her foot to “Silent Night.” When I got to the part about heavenly hosts, she drew her last breath. Eventually, it fell to me and my siblings to do what so many adult children are called upon to do: sort through a lifetime of treasures and trivia accumulated by parents who thought no one would ever see some of them, or who hoped that someday, someone would.
My new
book, Voyage: A Memoir of Love, War, and Ever After (eLectio
Publishing, 2017), unfolds with a trampoline timeline that melds wartime
letters my father wrote to my mother with vignettes in which I describe their
mid-century family life in St. Louis, and with essays in which I reflect on my forbears with post-millennial insight.
During
World War II, my dad, Bob Underhill, was an affable junior officer serving
aboard a Navy minesweeper, a fellow from working-class New York. Merrilee
Ann Meier was a stunning St. Louis County socialite entering the
halcyon period pretty girls from established families swam into after
they finished a degree in anything and before they marry a newly minted
lieutenant. In the letters, Bob pours out his affections to Merrilee on
wafer-thin military stationary, but glosses over the delicate maneuver
required to snip the trip-wire of an underwater bomb, and live.
Interspersed with stories-within-the-story, we follow Bob and Merrilee through
a 58-year marriage in which they confronted holiday fiascoes and funeral
foul-ups, windless regattas and catastrophic tornadoes.
I
eliminated some of my father’s letters, those that didn’t reveal character,
describe a riveting scene, or advance the plot. At the publisher’s request, I
whittled the number of vintage family photos to a dozen or so. A number of
happy memories could not be included, for there were so many that a reader
would conclude my parents were Ward and June Cleaver. In other cases, I alluded
to difficult experiences, but chose to not deal with them expansively. I think
the reader had enough to get the drift. For example, the hardest part of the
book to write was discovering why my paternal grandparents were never seen,
never heard from, never visited, never mentioned. And coming to grips with
that.
A good
story worth the telling should take matters to their proper end, as well. This
one does so early and often, in essays I wrote about how Bob and Merrilee went
on to forge a life together, to weather adversity, achieve a measure of
prosperity, and rear children during changing, challenging times Theirs is a
story that spans years of war, decades of peace, and the breadth of human
emotion, and it all began more than seventy years ago, with a letter signed
“Just, Bob.”
For more information, visit the author's website at https://cufitzpatrick.com/