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| Phil and Bill |
Every February 2nd,
just like many other people, I will pour my morning coffee and turn on the news
to see what Punxsutawney Phil, the Grand Prognosticator, will predict. Will it
be six more weeks of winter or an early spring?
A little known fact about me is that Punxsutawney Phil is a
BFF of my family. My father was born in Punxsutawney in 1919, and graduated
from high school there in 1937. After WWII, he returned with his new bride to
look for work. His first post-war job was here in the Beaver Valley, where I grew up, but he
maintained his ties with Punxsutawney. Our family eventually bought a farm
there. My father built a house for us, and also a place for my grandparents. It was our weekend/vacation place the entire time I was growing up.
Ultimately my father and mother retired there. My sister still lives in
Punxsutawney.
What does this have to do with Punxsutawney Phil? Stick with
me on this, and I’ll share the story.
Everyone in Punxsutawney knows Phil. He lives at the local library
in a special enclosure where tourists can peer into through a huge glass window.
You can watch Phil and his female friend, Phyllis, as they romp or mostly sleep
their lives away. Have I ever been to Groundhog Day? Sure. Been there. Done
that. Got the Groundhog hat. Checked off the bucket list.
On the night of February 1, 1981, my mother was dying at
Punxsutawney Memorial Hospital of bone cancer. Once diagnosed, the end swiftly
closed in on her. The pain was terrible. My father said he didn’t want her to
die alone, so he, my sister, and I took turns in shifts staying around the
clock at her bedside. On that night as I climbed into bed, I prayed that God
would take my mother home. Her body couldn’t take much more suffering.
About 6:00 a.m. the morning of February 2, my father called
to say Mom had passed away. I headed into town to meet him and my sister. It
was a bitter cold February morning, and uh-oh! I forgot it was Groundhog Day.
As you might guess, getting into Punxsutawney on Groundhog
Day is like going the wrong way in the roller rink. The mobs of people in town
made our day so much more challenging as we went from the hospital to the Deely
Funeral Home, where Mom would lie in state, and then stopped to get breakfast
at the Punxsutawney Phil’s Family Restaurant (yes, there really is such a
place!).
We were able to shoulder our way through the crowd at the
restaurant and finally get a booth. As I watched the revelers thronging and
pushing around us, resentment started to build against these loud and raucous
tourists. Didn’t they know that not everyone was here to party? Real people
live in Punxsutawney too, and we have lives beyond Groundhog Day. The hoard of
people made a difficult day more difficult.
Two years later, my father passed away out at the family
farm. The Deely Funeral Home handled the arrangements for my father as well. Afterward,
we knew that neither my sister nor I could afford or manage this large acreage
of our family farm. While our family was trying to wrap up the estate business,
Bill Deely from the funeral home approached us about buying the farm. He and
his brother were interested in using it for a family retreat. A deal was struck
and the farm sold.
So you may ask what does all this have to do with
Punxsutawney Phil? You see, that jovial man that appears on stage each year
with Phil is none other than Bill Deely, long-time president of the famed Inner
Circle and Punxsutawney Phil’s personal handler. Yes, the same Bill Deely
from the funeral home who bought our family farm.
So February 2nd is always a bittersweet morning
for me. Seeing Phil and Bill together make me homesick. They confirm to me that
I became an orphan at the age of 34. I realized then that it doesn’t matter how
old you are when your parents both pass away. From that point on you become an orphan. It’s a sad and lonely feeling.
For all of you wise women who responded to the Boomer Babes
Lifestyle Survey, 63% of you have lost both of your parents. So being orphaned
is an emotion I know you can feel as well. Do we ever get over the passing of
our parents? Are we ever too old to have our hearts broken with the memories?
The Deely family have been good to my
collective family. They welcome us to the farm any time they know we’re around.
I have so many memories there, from clearing the land to my father building the
house with his own two hands. My children remember their idyllic summers at the
farm and the good times and holidays with their grandparents there. We have
taken the next generation of children there too so they can see the house that
their great-grandfather built. Whenever we feel the need to go “home,” we can
get in the car, drive to Punxsutawney, and walk the fields and woods that were
ours as children.
On Monday, February 2nd this year, I will pour my
coffee, turn on the morning news, and watch for the smiling face of Bill Deely
as he lifts Punxsutawney Phil into the air to proclaim the forecast for this
year. You will probably watch it too, but we will see different things. You
will see a group of revelers paying homage to a gimmick that put Punxsutawney
on the map. I will remember the day my mother passed away. I will see the
memories of my long-gone grandparents, mom, and dad, and be thankful for the Deely family who will let us walk
the farm again.
Donna, thank you for writing and posting this heart touching connection to Punxsutawney Phil and family. Reading this brings back so many wonderful memories with you, Zana, your mom and dad, and grandma and grandpa. Your cousin, Kevin
ReplyDeleteHi Kevin, I actually was thinking about your family this morning as I was posting this. If you ever get back this way, we'll get in touch with the Deely's and do a walk about.
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