The Heston Family Tree and One Severly Deranged Branch

As mentioned in a prior entry (trying to validate my posting absence), last weekend I returned to Akron, Ohio for my Grandma's memorial service. I've decided I'll have to do at least two (probably three) installments of this tale.

Let me provide you with some logistics in an effort to smooth your read:

•Attendees were: David (my dad), Dana (my mom), me, Edward (my dad's oldest brother; my uncle), Catherine (Ed's wife; my aunt), Abigail (Ed's daughter; my cousin), Arthur (my dad's older brother; my uncle); Klare (Art's wife; my aunt), and the star of the show, Great Aunt Martha (my grandma's younger sister; my dad's aunt; my great aunt; Abigail's worst nightmare).

•In case you're a visual learner, the family members (or at least the ones who attended the memorial service) go like this, according to brothers, oldest to youngest:

Edward Heston (my uncle)
Wife Catherine
Daughter Abigail

Arthur Heston (my other uncle)
Wife Klare

David Heston (my dad)
Wife Dana
Daughter Meguire*

*and yes, I am aware that, for the first time, I am publicly stating my full name…I might as well tell you that the "A" in MAH stands for Anne. Meguire Anne Heston. There you have it. You all knew it anyway.

•All of us traveled to the infamous Akron, OH (home of Firestone Tires, LeBron James, Heston's Dry Cleaners, The Diamond Grill, and Swenson's Drive-In Burger KINGDOM…and really it's just called Swenson's…but I added KINGDOM because it is the best burger you'll ever have…period. In-N-Out fans, I'm sorry. You loose.) to pay tribute to Jane Heston, my dad's mother, my grandma, and a woman who shed love on just about everyone she met.

Okay, so now that we have the logistics, we can start the first of three historical accounts of the Heston family's three-day-visit to Akron.

After a four hour direct, red-eye flight to Cleveland, a hour and a half drive to Akron, and the discovery that the long standing Wally Waffles closed a few years ago, my parents and I ended up at a local diner, open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was 8:45 AM.

After perusing the double sided laminated menu, I decided on the egg special: two eggs over medium, grilled potatoes, two slices of bacon, and a home-made (meaning Pillsbury break and bake) biscuit. The price? $4.95.

Believe it.

As we're waiting for the one waitress (working the entire floor) to approach our booth, I find myself humming along to Sinead O'Connor's, "Nothing Compares 2 U," circa 1990. My guess: the menu prices were circa 1990 as well.

So eventually our waitress, who, by the way, had her name (which I fail to remember) embroidered on her shirt, approaches our table and asks us in an I've-been-a-chain-smoker-since-I-was-twelve voice, "Coffee?" I smile and nod, intimidated by her 6-inch-tall Brillo Pad bangs, and she proceeds to pour coffee into my 3 oz coffee mug.

I felt like I was taking a shot.

I wished I was taking a shot.

But the food came and we ate and had shot after shot of coffee and I was feeling better. Then my cousin Abigail showed up, and my mood improved infinitely – I hadn't seen that girl in 3 or 4 years.

Abigail arrived in Akron on MONDAY to stay with our Great Aunt Martha (who we call Marsh, who it turns out has decided she's dying, who asked for the "Hospice" qualification at the nursing home so she can have complete control over her meds, and who now feeds herself heated-up chocolate Ensure and a possible cup of soup daily in a effort to starve herself to death, but mind you, she still uses Purell religiously. Heaven forbid the woman die of GERM CONTAMINATION. Starvation? Totally fine. Germs? Definitely not okay).

I received text messages from Abigail throughout the week prior to my trip saying things like, "You better be ready to drink a bottle (or four) of wine with me when you get here." On the Thursday before our flight, she changed her Facebook status to read, "Waiting for Meguire to come RESCUE me."

And really, Abigail is the hero here, not me. She suffered through four days alone with Marsh at a nursing home, in what was I'm sure a 85 degree apartment, watching Bill O'Reilly and Hannity & Colmes night after night prior to the arrival of the rest of the family.

The goal of her stay you see, was to determine Marsh's mental state (or lack there of). Abigail is a nurse and the rest of the family (the brothers, mainly) wanted her medical opinion on Marsh's health.

So not only was Abigail severely tortured by the whining, crying, if-you're-a-guest-on-my-show-I'll-let-you-say-three-words-and-talk-over-you-the-rest-of-the-time hit FOX News Show, The O'Reilly Factor, she also had to eat three dinners and two lunches in the old folk's home "dining room."

THREE dinners and TWO lunches that drove her to drink two mini bottles of wine (left over from an airplane flight) that she found in the back of Marsh's cupboard that were more than likely 10 years old. At least is was well aged by the time she pocketed it for the short journey down the hall to the guest bedroom where she no doubt threw them back in one gulp each.

THREE dinners and TWO lunches. It is imperative that you remember this for the next post (hopefully to come on Monday).