Page 17 - I Remember When

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D.P. and Winnie  9
However in the end, Trixie’s demise turned out to
be my fault and not D.P’s. Years later, Winnie, and D.P.
left Trixie with a relative when they came to visit me in
California and help with
new baby. Trixie was too
old to survive not being fed with a spoon by Winnie and
fell into a decline from which she could not be roused.
Winnie returned home to find her long-time companion
dead and buried. She wrote me about the sad news and
she could not help letting her feelings of reproach slip
through with these words. “If you hadn’t married that
jerk and moved with him to California, and had those
children, then none of this would have happened.” I
couldn’t agree with her more.
Winnie was well liked and hardly ever had an un-
kind word for anyone. Even though she had been work-
ing all week at
The Warehouse
, cooking dinner when she
got home, washing up, doing various chores while D.P.
read the paper and requested coffee and dessert, she
didn’t complain. I decided I didn’t want to follow in her
footsteps and end up doing all the dirty work.
D.P. informed me when I was college age that “your
mother is not nearly as dumb as you think she is. She
just acts that way to make me feel smarter.” So, I real-
ized they had some little song and dance going on that
worked for them as a couple.
While D.P felt he had to dress the part of successful
businessman, poor Winnie’s wardrobe was somewhat
limited. She didn’t earn very much working for D.P., and
he didn’t give her an allowance. He was the shopper for
our family: Hart Shaffner Marx suits and Stetson hats
for him. Any clothes Winnie was able to acquire came
from Grandma Lottie’s workshop or after Lottie died,