The Wintry Unraveling

By Susan Harrison

Dirouhi is Armenian for Dorothy. This is the lady who shared the childhood stories, which filled her life with happiness. Even in her twilight years, she still is filled with excitement when recalling how much fun Friday nights were, just because her neighbor spent time dramatically reciting various adventures to the children.

The ending novel is an unfolding of generations with twins, their loves and family ties, all created with Christian meaning. The life of Nina and Edward begin at a scene in the forest, where they are curious about lights, a scene that one day becomes a big part of their life. Visiting Rae and hearing her life and work in music is described so that the reader wishes they had been as creative and ingenious as she. A courageous journey to Russia develops into more unraveling of characters until the ending of the book, which is really just the beginning.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jan 24, 2013
• ISBN: 9781449782023

Susan Harrison

Susan Harrison is Professor of Environmental Science and Policy at the University of California, Davis. Nishanta Rajakaruna is Professor of Botany at the College of the Atlantic.

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Copyright © 2013 Susan Harrison.

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ISBN: 978-1-4497-8201-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-8203-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-8202-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013900577

WestBow Press rev. date: 2/7/2013

THE WINTRY UNRAVELING

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

DIROUHI’S FRIDAY NIGHTS

Introduction

Over The River

And Up The Hill

Gayaneh’s Blessing

Chapter 2

GAYANEH’S STORIES

The Lady Who Loved Children

The Summer Fly

The City Of Lights

The Twilight Party

Memoir Of Sister

The American Indian Dwells

Chapter 3

WHO IS THE STORYTELLER?

Create Your Own Memoir

When Did You Meet Him?

Do You Love Him Too?

THE WINTRY UNRAVELING

Gayaneh’s Book

Chapter 1

THE WINTRY SEASON

A Sneak Preview

The Swamp

Sassy Friends

Bitter Sweet

Russian Kat

Rae

Sunday

A Real Christmas

Christ Mass

Rae’s Journal

Rae’s Dance

The Dance

The House

The Theatre

The Writing on the Wall

And the Last Days

Chapter 2

THE WINTRY TRAIN

Twenty-Five Years Have Passed

Connected Links

Drew In Quebec

Uncle William

My Mother/My Daughter

Chapter 3

THE WINTRY TWILIGHT

The Decision

Igor’s Icy Tale

Gotcha

Chapter 4

THE WINTRY CLOUDS

Going Home

Chapter 5

REFLECTING EDWARD

The Lake House

The Wedding Dream

The Honeymooners

Answer to Prayer

A Stormy Reflection

Chapter 6

THE WINTRY CODA

Kindergarten to College

Greta’s Niece, Greta

Chapter 7

THE WINTRY BABUSHKA

Many years have passed

Do You Love Me?

Susan Harrison has been given gifts that were recognized even as a child. She has always been known for her love of music and as a young girl, she could not get enough of the fairytales and the little books she begged for whenever at the store. Her mother later told her how when she gave her a bath at night, she was amazed at the stories her daughter would always tell, never knowing if they were true or not! You see, her mother was one of her greatest encouragers in all things good. Her mother sacrificed so much to allow Susan to consume her with her inspirations and to allow her to play the piano all the time in their small house. Susan was permitted to spend most of her time at the piano, and she loved the fantasy world she created for herself.

Throughout her adult life these passions have given her a sense of self-worth and have inspired her to work diligently as a music director and as an author. She has learned piano, organ, violoncello and choral directing to her delight. Presently she has been the organist and choir director for the Armenian Congregational Church of the Greater Metropolitan Detroit area. For many years she has written thesis, memoirs about her life, Christian understandings and inspirations, and especially many fictitious stories. Her work and involvement with various people and experiences in churches, offices, and with family have added to the creative ideas she includes in her writings.

Because she is thankful to the Lord for all He has given to her, she tries to be an encouragement to others and to minister to others in Jesus’ name. Her love for the Lord is shown in her volunteer work for the elderly at the Manoogian Manor of Livonia, Michigan, and also in leading a Bible study in her neighborhood.

The Wintry Unraveling begins with the stories told by an endearing, fictitious Armenian lady, Gayaneh, who made the life of her neighborhood friends exciting with her Friday night storytelling. Each unique drama is Christian in theme, with meaningful character development and adventure.

The end novel, The Wintry Unraveling, is the completion of Gayaneh’s gift to the family before they move to the suburbs. This novel is endearing and colors the canvas of many Christian lives, friends sharing celebrations and trials. One particular trial is when a twin sister is separated, lost in Russia because of hardship and government secrecy. Another disheartening event is when one character is diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and it could have been devastating to all, yet the glory and divine enfolding of the Lord Jesus Christ is revealed in every step, as you cannot get away from the realness of The Wintry Unraveling.

Dedicated to

Missy and Amanda!

May the Lord bless you.

May the Lord keep you.

May our Lord make His face

to shine upon you and give you

His peace forever!

Chapter 1

Dirouhi’s Friday Nights

Introduction

Dirouhi is the Armenian name for Dorothy, and it means gift of God, which is the perfect definition of Dirouhi’s character. She is the most delightful lady, and she is beautiful. Now in her eighties, imagine how gorgeous she must have been when young, since even now she is so lovely! One thing, her skin isn’t dry or wrinkled. And her hair is white but thick and always styled so prettily. Dirouhi dresses in becoming outfits—always comfortable yet attractive—and they look like new. But it’s her personality that is so charming. She smiles with a bashful expression, yet she is very talkative and very interesting. She speaks of how much she especially enjoys sharing her life stories, and they are intriguing to listen to. So based on the stimulating memories Dirouhi shares with her intimate friends, these stories are written from her wonderful childhood.

An exciting adventure begins if you visit Dirouhi now at her enchanting home or talk with her during fellowship hour at the Armenian Congregational Evangelical Church of Metro Detroit. Of course, she will insist on having tea as you talk, and she will then open up her past to reminisce as she becomes the storyteller.

Over The River

And Up The Hill

Dirouhi could remember when she was two years of age. The big, powder-blue Ford seemed especially large to her and was difficult to climb into. Sitting in the middle of her parents—their first child—they would oftentimes drive to her Uncle George and Aunt Mabel’s house, which wasn’t far, but to little Dirouhi it was quite the adventure.

Her memory saved an evening when it was raining very hard; the roads were all dirt so they drove through puddles, with splashes of water hitting the car from the earth as from the sky. The window wipers swished back and forth, and it was not easy to see out the window, yet she always felt secure when her dad was driving, probably because he was very strong. He had told her the secret of his strength was that all the nails stored in the garage in wooden boxes were what he ate to be so strong, and she marveled at that. So inside the large car, with pouring rain, thunder, lightning, and the car bumping through pits, she felt she was secure between both parents.

They drove to the narrow river and over the small bridge, and then up the high hill to her aunt and uncle’s.

Uncle George and Aunt Mabel were so happy and loved each other so much, and they were good to Dirouhi too. She enjoyed their laughter as they indulged in dinner, and then she watched them play cards and drink Coke or coffee, neither of which she was allowed to taste. She loved the smells and also was curious about the large can of potato chips kept next to their sofa, for the times when they were alone and watched television together. These were all foods she had never tasted, because her mother was concerned for her health. And besides, she was only a little child.

Sometimes her dad would want to go for a drive at night and pickup a hotdog, and she would go with him. It was a special treat for her to be out after dark and to eat at a drive-in. She was never as hungry as he was, so she would just order a small root beer. It was thrilling to her to see the town lights and houses with lights on. She wondered what the homes looked like inside.

Every so often, her mother and father would take her on a trip. Sometimes it was a long drive to visit aunts in other states. They would pack sandwiches, like homemade pimento cheese, and take a thermos of coffee. Off they would go, driving through mountains to see family.

The longest drive was when they went to see Aunt Agnes and Uncle Boyd in Texas, where it was hotter than anything she had ever experienced at her home in Michigan. They had a mother and father dog, Gretchen and Hansel, with puppies. That visit, Aunt Agnes gave her a beautiful, black cocker spaniel puppy to take home. Dirouhi’s mother really loved dogs, and Aunt Agnes, who gave them the puppy, was her sister. He was named Sammy. He only loved her mother, though, and would not sit on Dirouhi’s lap at all, but her mother was the one who fed him. When he was just a few years old, he had taken off running, and later they saw him by the main road, hit by a car. It was a shock to the little girl to know a tragedy had really happened.

Another vacation was taken to Florida to visit her father’s sisters and brothers. They were a lot of fun, and Aunt Elizabeth would take the children for nighttime drives by the beach. The feeling of the fresh breeze from the ocean made Dirouhi feel a deep strength filling her, and she wished she could experience that feeling and see the ocean waves forever. The first night there, when the tide was up and it was dark and scary looking with huge waves splashing the shore, Dirouhi’s mother was worried she might want to swim in the ocean the following day. But Dirouhi reassured her by saying, Don’t worry, Mommy. If it looks like this, I won’t, and I won’t if you don’t want me to. That made her mother happy.

Dirouhi also liked her mother’s many friends from church and her intimate clubs. The Acesome Club included four women who met once a month, taking turns at each of their residences, for a luncheon and a game of bridge. The meals were formal and fancy, and the ladies always dressed up. She was the only child at the time and was allowed to go everywhere with her mother, so she learned a lot about being what her mother said was so important: being a lady.

But these were just the extra fun times. Her favorite times were a few years later when they moved to Delray, within the Detroit area, where they had Armenian neighbors. That was the beginning of her special Friday nights!

Gayaneh’s Blessing

The first response Dirouhi gives if she just happens to be asked why she had such a wonderful childhood is, Well, I always looked forward to Friday nights! The gleam in her eyes shows the excitement is still alive. Her low Lauren Bacall voice makes you wonder, just what was it about Friday nights that seemed to consume her thoughts and was the core reason she had felt such happiness as a child?

Even though the family was poor because of living through the Depression, their family time created their loving, stable existence. Her family had another Armenian family on its block, and they were close friends, like family. On Friday nights, her family would get together with that Armenian family, who had a daughter near her age—Rose, and a son—Ara. Dirouhi’s two sisters and brother were Aleen, Tamar and Moses; but it was Gayaneh, the Angelian mother, who made the difference. She was the creative genius who helped form the happiness that lasted throughout their lives, at least for Dirouhi.

The neighbor mother, Gayaneh, spent the evening as a storyteller to the children, while the adults played cards and visited; all loved the fun. It was attention for the children and was also a means of helping them form constructive thoughts rather than being left to their own devices to get into mischief. But it was more than that. The entertainment of her stories became alive to them and opened their minds to new worlds, and they taught the kids to use their imaginations to reflect on creative thinking as they were immersed in fairytales. Her talent for storytelling was a gift used to preoccupy the children and to give them attention, as they were considered guests at her home. It made each one feel special and loved because of the precious time spent relaxing and enjoying each other.

And what a hostess Gayaneh was! She gave her full attention to the children, sacrificing her own self life as she lost time to visit with the adults for the good of the little ones. More important to her was developing the children’s imaginations and giving them pleasant memories and encouragement.

The children would hurry home from school to bath and dress up with inner joy, knowing their evening was to be another surprise of enchanting stories to feed their imaginations. Each week when it was the day for the Angelians to have the party at their house, the parents would lead with the children following as they walked down the street to the home of Gayaneh, Haig, Ara, and Rose, where the greeting was always welcoming, with a formal, engaging smile. The men shook hands and the mothers hugged while the children shyly smized with their eyes, quietly awaiting the evening.

The Angelians would lead their guests to the dining table, which was filled with labored preparations. Sometimes, spaghetti was served with meatballs, salad, and fresh bakery bread. Usually an Armenian appetizer or entree of specialties was served, such as soup made of chicken broth and cooked with koufta (bulgur and beef meatballs stuffed with parsley and seasonings). And sometimes they ate choerek, (small, sweet rolls sprinkled with sesame seeds), dolmas, (stuffed and rolled grape leaves), shashlik (lamb kebabs), and, of course, pilaf and salad. Dirouhi’s mother’s specialty was paklava, which she brought most every week. Of course, there were evening meals at Dirouhi’s home too, but the Angelian parties on Fridays were the best in Dirouhi’s mind, even now.

And so the story begins, rather, stories, the many tales told by Gayaneh, their magnificent angel.

Gayaneh was gifted with the ability to make her listeners believe every word she said and to feel as though they were actually in the world of her imagination. She was very dramatic and expressive in her explanations and voicing, and the children were good listeners, hypnotized by her tales, as they could hear clearly the details shaped in her mind.

She sat on a small, cushioned ottoman while they sat on the floor and moved as close as possible, not to miss a word. Sometimes they got so close to her that she would need to take deep breaths or crack open a window even in winter, just for a little circulation of oxygen. Dirouhi’s favorite story, well remembered and one they often had her repeat was, The Lady Who Loved Children.

Chapter 2

Gayaneh’s Stories

The Lady Who Loved Children

Gayaneh sat up straight and observed the children ready to hear her speak the creative thoughts that poured from her mind, out of her mouth and into the ears of the youngsters. Dirouhi leaned against the sofa, while others laid on the floor with their faces in awe, anticipating Gayaneh’s words for them.

Once upon a time there was a very elderly lady. Well at least she looked very elderly because of her extremely long white hair, though she was strong and very energetic. She lived alone in the forest except for a maid, a skinny, frightened girl who did whatever the lady told her, and she worked her literally to death! (At this point, Gayaneh screamed the word death—and frightened the children, but they loved it.)

This upset the lady that her maid had died. Was it because she was really sad that the hard work had killed her, or was she only selfishly sorry that she now had no maid? Well, we’ll see.

The elderly lady was named Escouie. Now she combed her own hair, which was hard for her to reach from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet because of her arthritis. So she decided to do stretch exercises each morning to strengthen her arms and body; very slowly she moved.

She also took a walk everyday after her morning stretch exercises, since her maid had died and she was the only person to walk her three dogs. One was a large dog too, a Scottish wolfhound named Georgie. There was an English springer spaniel named Rosie and a Cavalier King Charles spaniel named Henry. Actually, she did have real love for her dogs, which showed she wasn’t as mean as she may have appeared. Now she was the one to care for them, feed them and walk them, and they began to love her more and more. She even reluctantly gave in to them to sleep on her bed at night and lay on her sofas during the day, because she didn’t want them to miss the maid and whine. She didn’t want to make them mad and hoped they would like her, which they did.

Escouie sat at one end of the sofa reading one afternoon as Georgie and Henry lay up against her, and Rosie lay across her lap, under her book. Henry wanted Rosie’s bone that Escouie was holding, so he very gingerly removed it from her hand and sneaked down to chew on it.

Life was okay now, even without her maid, but she hated to clean house and was pondering how she could get out of it, when there was a knock on her door. Who would be visiting her in the deep woods of the forest? (Gayaneh would emphasize in the deep woods of the forest.)

The dogs began to bark and jump as Escouie went to answer the door. Two ladies were dressed up, even wearing hats, and were very down mouthed, for they were there on serious business matters.

The dogs were sent into the kitchen as Escouie invited the ladies inside and to sit. She made tea and brought out sandwiches, for she did know how to show good manners. The ladies couldn’t resist the hot tea, for the wind blew cold outside, but they would