Jaci's Journaling Jar

I was running low on blog post ideas today, so turned to Jaci's Journaling Jar, and picked "Tell about your favorite aunt".

The reason I picked this for today is that my favorite aunt is fading quickly. I expect any day to get a call from my mother that her next younger (still living) sister has passed away.

Mother is the oldest of four girls. Mother was born in 1913, then Helen in 1915, the Louise in 1917 or 1919 (I think 1917) and then Florence Elizabeth, nicknamed Betty, in 1921. They lived in Belleville, MI. Helen died in 2004. Louise has Parkinson's and is on oxygen quite a bit of the time now. She stays in bed most of the time and sleeps quite a bit. She lives in the same complex where Mother lives, but in a duplex rather than in the apartment building. Louise has two children, Betty Jo, nicknamed BJ, who is two years younger than I, and Bruce, who I believe is six or seven years younger than I. The term "salt of the earth" applies to all the members of this family. Louise's husband, Dave, died in 2002.

I've always felt like Aunt Louise understood me and understood the ways that Mother's treatment of me was emotionally abusive of and to me. There was not anything she could do about it, but I knew, innately, that she got it. And therefore got me. When I was around Aunt Louise, I felt understood and loved.

My family has always been weird about relatives. My adoption made me crave relatives. And yet Daddy didn't really like Mother's relatives, nor did she like his. Daddy had six or seven siblings and I had a number of cousins on his side, but I don't really know them. I have three cousins on Mother's side. Ken is significantly older, so I don't know him well, but do know him to be a very kind and brilliant man. BJ and Bruce are my closest cousins, and BJ lives near her mother and stops to see Mother every Thursday, so I am beholden to her. I knew them fairly well, as they grew up in Orlando, near me.

Whenever I see Aunt Louise, she tells two stories. One is about the time when I was probably seven or eight and BJ and I were playing hide and seek. Somehow I got on top of the refrigerator to hide. The other story is when I was much younger and they were at our house visiting. She jokingly asked if I wanted to go home with her when they left. I got in her car and wouldn't get out.

I think that story is the most telling of how loved and understood this woman made me feel.

Thanks, Aunt Louise, for having such a big heart.