Letters to Aunt Grace, Part 100: Aunt Mary’s Visit, Part IV

Bishop’s letter of 10 October 1961 was starting to wind down. After the detailed account of her visits with Aunt Mary and her cousins, Bishop remembered that things were going on with Grace, too. There had been a wedding (just whose, I can’t quite figure out, but I think it might have been Bud & Lois Bowers’s wedding). Bishop limply observed, “Your wedding sounds fine (but I really don’t like weddings!).” Bishop had not been forgotten for this family ceremony, noting that she had “received the nice invitation a while ago.” She assured her aunt that “if ever I get  to N S I’ll bring them something from N.Y.” But even more than this gift, what Bishop really wanted was to bring her aunt something, “And what would you like from N Y?”

Grace had also, clearly, given Bishop more information about Miriam Sutherland in her most recent letter, which prompted Bishop to say, “I feel absolutely awful about that poor little Miriam.” Whatever Grace had reported, it made Bishop “hope she just dies quickly.” Well, that is an extreme hope and, fortunately, Miriam did not die “quickly” – but lived for decades bringing joy to her family. Bishop knew that it was “tough for Phyllis and Ern,” that it was “rotten luck” and that “Nature can be so cruel.” And while all these observations have some truth to them (it was a challenge to raise Miriam and keep her healthy), Miriam was an integral part of her family, something Bishop saw for herself when she finally did get to Nova Scotia in the early 1970s and met Miriam for the first time. Miriam always vividly remembered “cousin Elizabeth,” even from the relatively brief time they spent together. Indeed, Miriam Sutherland had one of the best memories of any person I have ever met (how many of us can say that!?)

The final paragraph of this long letter continued on with family matters. Grace was with “Phyllis and Ern” while they got things confirmed and sorted out with Miriam; her job was “watching over [the] small boys,” that is the Sutherland sons Wallace and David. It made Bishop worry and urge her aunt not to “work too hard.” Such care-giving would be “strenuous.” Bishop did know something about that sort of tending, from all the children who had spent time with her and Lota. But Grace’s idea for a break didn’t appeal to Bishop, either: “But I don’t think a winter with Aunt Mabel sounds like much fun, either!”

(Mabel Bulmer, left, and Grace Bulmer Bowers, right,

with Mabel’s dog, in Hollywood, Florida,

where Mabel often wintered with her daughter

Hazel Bulmer Snow, circa late 1950s. AUA.)

Bishop suggested an alternative: “How would you like to stay a week  or so in that nice old hotel in Halifax, and just be waited on? The one on the park?” The hotel in question is the Lord Nelson Hotel, east of the Public Gardens, which is still a going concern. Bishop noted, “I always liked it a lot.” Her suggestion was not just an idea but an offer: “I’ll treat you to a week there for a Christmas present if you’d really do it and not spend the money on your family!” (Bishop understood well enough Grace’s selflessness.) Such a week away meant, “breakfast in bed,” going “to the movies,” seeing “the sights.” But then Bishop wondered: “or would you get too bored?” What Bishop really wanted to do was take time off herself and go there with Grace, when she was in “N Y,” “but I’m afraid I won’t” have the time, she sighed, “I have to work every day for at least three weeks in N Y and maybe longer.” And then she noted what was no small issue, “and as you know N Y is expensive” — certainly compared to Brazil and Nova Scotia.

(Lord Nelson Hotel by W.R. MacAskill.

Not sure of the date, but this image shows

the tram lines that used to run on Spring Garden Road.

And to the east there are trees, rather than the wall

of buildings that now line this busy street. NSA.)

A “— //” signalled a shift in her train of thought, returning her to Miriam, a subject she clearly was sort of obsessed with, urging her aunt, once again (how many times?) to get “Dr. SPOCK — PLEASE buy a copy — read it — give it to Phyllis.” Part of her argument was that it wasn’t expensive, “only $1.00 — paper-back.” Since it “sells all over the place,” she was sure “they must have it in N S, too.” It was even “on the newstands in Brazil.” Bishop was certain Grace would “find it fascinating reading — (I do without a baby to my name) — and awfully good.”

This repeated urging had sort of spilled over to her cousin, who did have some babies to her name, but “Eliz[abeth Ross Naudin] won’t read it,” with Bishop avowing, however, that she had not “urged her.” Bishop also had to concede that Grace would “know a lot of it already, with all your vast experience with babies and small children.” Even so, Bishop felt that Dr. Spock “was so damned sensible.” She was sure that “a lot of what he says would help Phyllis and cheer her up a bit, too.”

Finally, she let go of this hobby horse, and with another “//” she turned to one of the other children, “I think it is wonderful Wallace [Phyllis’s oldest child] is going to take up bagpipes.” With her love of Robert Burns, perhaps it is no surprise that she declared, “I do like them!” Well, you either love bagpipes or you don’t.

The letter truly began to wind down, with the final closing wishes: “If you’re with Aunt Mabel, give her my love.” Bishop reiterated, yet again, that she “did write [to Mabel] — but it must have got lost.” And promised she would again “when I get through this book,” though “heaven knows when that will be!”

“As always,” Bishop sent “much love to you,” and made one last pitch, “think of my idea!”

Bishop’s next letter was written over two months later from New York. The next post will take up this final epistle of 1961.

Click here to see Post 99.