The Contest for the Bouquet: The Family of Robert Gordon in Their New York Dining-Room
by Seymour Joseph Guy
I remember as if it were yesterday, that large filled dining room my family and I would gather around for supper every evening. As dislocated and separated as our family was, supper was a must attend event that even papa was present for whenever he was back in town. I remember everything about this room; after all it is where my most precious childhood moments lie. The room was so elegant in its presence. It was even mama’s favorite room of the house. She would usher our guests straight into the dining room rather than to the living room to impress our guests with her ever-going extensive collection of British-imported paintings. It was the centerfold of our family-relationship, until that one day that changed everything.
It was a cold November evening when Robbie returned from his military academy in Northern Pennsylvania. Just a few short days before Thanksgiving, mama had already unfolded and unwrapped all of her finest decoratives in the dining room for when the guests arrived for the celebration. We were all very excited to see my older brother, who at just 11 years of age was on his way to becoming a future high-ranking general. I too would join the military academy when I turned 10 years of age, but at the moment I still had two more years to go. My brother was my idol and my inspiration. Living in a New York townhouse with two sisters and a mother was never any fun for me. The only manly quality time I spent with anyone was with my older brother; papa was always away on business trips.
Robbie returned with great stories of the brotherhood he had found at the academy. He talked about dignity and a patriotism never seen before. There was this story of the armless sergeant who came off really scary and almost monster-like, but Robbie had grown on him and the sergeant had taken a liking to Robbie as well. I then remarked how I too couldn’t wait to join the military academy. He then gave me this golden pendant the sergeant had given him. He told me it was a token of fearlessness, and til this day I still carry that token.
Mama was never one to interject into my or Robbie’s dreams, but she did worry that she would lose her sons if another war arose. She was giving Robbie and I a talk about what it meant to be a man of honor when the doorbell rang that afternoon. I remember like yesterday, Clara and I were passing around the pot of tea as Robbie paid more attention to mama than I did. Mama was carrying Tessa, who was only four years of age at that time. The room was rather dark as the sun began to set but there was still some light coming in from the numerous windows. Mama put down Tessa and went to answer the door. Two police guards were at the door and asked my mother if they could come in.
We had no idea what news they could be bringing, except for Robbie. Before they announced what they had to say, Robbie remarked, “Is it about my father?” Mama was astonished and said to Robbie, “Oh don’t be silly my boy, why would you say such a thing?”
However, Robbie was not wrong. The policemen said that my father had had an accident on his way home from the state of Delaware. His carriage had spun out a wheel, causing the carriage to collapse. Mama could not believe it, but my father was dead. My siblings and I were less hesitant in accepting the reality. We loved our father, but the truth of the matter was that he was never really there.
The aftermath of my father’s death resulted in mama having to sell the townhouse and having to take on a job as a seamstress. She was able to send me to the military academy as she had continue to do so for Robbie, but nothing was the same ever again. She went on to mourn for the rest of her life, and my sisters would go on to care for her. The same dining-room with which we held so many memories of joy was the same dining-room where we received the news that impacted the rest of our lives forever.
– Joaquin Palma 10/23/12
