While cleaning and going through stuff back in September of 2019, I pulled out a folder of short stories my mom had written 31 years ago. Rummaging through them, I came across one she had written about her sisters. It reminded me how fortunate I was to have some of the most wonderful and amazing aunts.
My aunts had very large hearts, and they sacrificed greatly, in different ways, to always make me feel wanted and loved. They kept me, cooked for me, took care of me when I was sick, consoled me when I was sad, and celebrated my successes. I had seven aunts, but only knew six of them. The picture below is of Mommy and five of my seven aunties.
Aunt Alberta, whom we called Aunt Bert, oh did she love to talk! Mommy wrote, “she can talk to me for an hour, and I’ll never have a clue as to what she is talking about.”
Mommy described her perfectly when she said her heart was big as a mountain. She really would do anything she could to help others, especially family and friends.
A life-lesson from Aunt Bert, “The greatest gift, is to give someone else a gift!” She gave me rides when I didn’t have one. She slipped me cash when I didn’t have money or just for me, “to treat yourself!” You could hear Aunt Bert whistling from a mile away.
Aunt Alene, whom we called Aunt Dean, is the grand lady my youngest son, is named after. A few weeks before she passed away, I was watching over her while her husband, Uncle Claudus, was away for a short while. I was nearly due to deliver my second child. While we visited, Auntie asked me to do one thing for her–to please name my baby after her.
Not long after, when my youngest son was born, he became another aspect of her legacy. His name is Trevor Dean.
Mommy describes Aunt Dean as a mothering type. She wrote that Auntie’s greatest desire in life was to be a wife and mother. Mommy wrote, “Being a very warm, understanding and sensitive person, she fills that position perfectly.”
Aunt Dean is the reason I love chocolate cake. There was always one sitting in her kitchen. Her cakes were the best and her secret ingredient was LOVE!
Now to my Aunt Rena Vay. I spent summer with her, and they were the greatest! Mom wrote, “ I think she will be a teenager forever and never grow old–she thinks and acts young.”
Aunt Rena Vay loved to listen to music and dance. I think I got my love for music from her. Also, she would make you smile with her sass.
My Aunt Redith always looked like she stepped out of a magazine. Mommy wrote of the second-eldest of her fifteen siblings, “To look at this lady, one would never guess she was one of our brood, being fashionable, she is very chic and classy.” Aunt Redith taught me it didn’t matter what obstacles life landed in my path, I could still overcome anything and be anything that I set my mind to. I love plays and museums because of her.
Aunt Ruth knew how to pray! She taught me that Heaven’s currency was faith and prayer was how to cultivate your faith. Mommy’s description of her before she found God is a side of Aunt Ruth that I didn’t know. She wrote that during Aunt Ruth’s teen years, she worked as a cocktail waitress and she loved to party. Her description of Aunt Ruth in her later years, is the Auntie I grew up knowing. Mommy wrote, “Her faith, church and family were her world.”
Aunt Gertrude, whom we called Aunt Gertie, was the oldest of my aunts. Mommy wrote, “she is a sweet, shy, almost backward lady.” What I remember most about Aunt Gertie was her making me paper dolls to play with Grandma Sexton (the mother of this grand tribe), and rocking me in the rocking chair. I guess I got my love of rocking from her.
Last is Aunt Rebecca. I never knew her. Mommy wrote, “Rebecca, I never knew her. She died before I was born. Had she lived I’m sure she would be just as unique as the rest.”
I’m sure she would have given me a piece of her to store in my heart like the rest of my aunties did.
“The most important thing to me is that I know I’m truly blessed for having such wonderful, loving sisters.
“Through every event in my life, they have been there for me, to be happy for me, cry with me, and always supportive.
“I hope they know and realize how much I love, respect, and adore each one of them.”
“To me they are the best sisters anyone could ever hope to have.”
Written by my mother, about her sisters, whom my aunties called Macky.
Through every event in my childhood they were there. They cleaned up my scraped knees, wiped away my tears and loved me. With my mother being the youngest of the 16 children, and me being the youngest of 60 grandchildren, my aunties were more like grandmothers.
They are so missed and forever loved.