Saying she was my dear aunt doesn’t begin to describe my relationship with Aunt Mary. I know there are folks out there who have loving and close relationships with an aunt or a niece. I have a niece I have always had a pretty awesome closeness to, but it is nothing comparable to what I had with my Aunt Mary. In so many ways, she was like a second mother to me.
Aunt Mary was my great aunt…my dad’s aunt, his mother’s only sister, and she could not have children. I don’t know what was wrong that made her unable to, but she told me once it could have been corrected with a simple surgery. However, her husband, my Uncle Dan, wouldn’t allow her to have the surgery; he told her that if God had meant for her to have children, he would have made her so she could. I can’t imagine what that must have been like for her because she loved children. And children loved her. I know I did. She was a gentle, sweet lady filled with so much love to give as well as genuine goodness. When she turned 90, in October of 2001, our family threw a surprise birthday party for her, and close to 100 people attended. When we sent out the invitations, we asked those invited to either send or bring a letter about their favorite memory of Aunt Mary, and we read them at the party. The memories and love shared in those letters was truly heartwarming, and I loved every minute of watching her face as she intently listened to every story…I loved watching as she smiled that beautiful smile of hers and as she wiped away the tears at times. Even now, nearly 10 years later, I am in awe of this woman who had no children yet had so very many people who adored her.
From the time I was a little girl, I was always told by my mom that Aunt Mary “spoiled” me. I don’t remember ever feeling spoiled by her, at least not in the way that most people think of being spoiled—I think that most think of a spoiled child as one who is showered with material things, who comes to expect them, and is somewhat of a brat. But that is not how Aunt Mary spoiled me. She lavished me with her love and care…her favorite “pet name” to call me was Dear One…even through the teen years, and college years, and even after I married and had children. No letter or card ever came to me without the greeting, “Dear One” as the salutation. And the really special thing about her…she had many nieces and nephews, many great nieces and nephews, and even a few great-great nieces and nephews, and everyone felt just as loved by her as I did. My kids still tell me at random times out of the blue how much they miss Aunt Mary. She celebrated every new baby that arrived in the family with much fanfare. Perhaps this was because she truly knew what a miracle they were since she was unable to have her own.
I have written many things over the years about this lovely woman who was so very dear to me; I could probably write a book about all of the reasons why. But a blog post will have to do! I tried to post this last night, but I was so tired and nodding off at my computer as I tried to write, so I gave up and decided to try again today. Although maybe I should have kept the oil burning last night because now that it’s a new day and I am feeling quite refreshed, I could sit here and write about her all day! I won’t, I promise!
I will make do with saying that I loved her with all my heart, and I know she loved me with all her heart. She never said a critical or unkind thing to me or about me. I loved spending time with her, even when I was a teenager. Aunt Mary had a profound impact on my life in many ways. Again, I could write so many of them, but it would take me all day. And in the grand scheme of things, the reasons really don’t matter. All that really matters is that I loved her dearly and I miss her terribly. One of my favorite quotes is from Maya Angelou and always makes me think of Aunt Mary.
“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
I don’t remember every little thing Aunt Mary did or said over my life, but I will never forget how she made me feel…which was special, loved and cherished. She gave her love and her compliments freely. I often wonder if that is where the sappy side of my personality came from.
Shifting gears in a way…yesterday was our Share walk in honor of babies who died during pregnancy or in the first few months of life. It is also national pregnancy loss and infant loss remembrance day. It is customary to participate in what is called “The Wave of Light” and light a candle at 7 PM in whatever time zone you are in, creating a wave of light around the country. Each year, I do this in remembrance not only of my own babies who didn’t make it, but also in memory of my dear friend’s little girl Hannah and my sister’s little baby boy Daniel. But, in the back of mind of course, is my dear Aunt Mary. Each year on October 15, I imagine this dear, sweet, lovely lady up in heaven in a huge rocking chair cradling and rocking mine and my sister’s babies who didn’t make it to this Earth. I like to take pictures of my candles, and I try to do something different each year. Last year, I took a picture of candles surrounding a Precious Moments figurine that Aunt Mary gave me many years ago called “You Have Touched So Many Hearts.” It is a little girl holding a string of hearts between her hands, and ironically, there are six hearts, which is how many candles I light each year on October 15.
Back to our Share walk yesterday. It is always a rather emotional day for me as I participate in the reading of so very many babies names who died way too soon. Yesterday, we read over 400 names, and I read the last group of them. It is hard to keep my emotions in check as I read the names, especially when I come to the name of a baby who is someone I know personally. And most especially when a family has sadly added another name to the list since the previous year. Preparing the names is a long process…first making sure that every name is accounted for and spelled correctly before being sent to the t-shirt printer, and then again when I have the task of making sure all of the readers know how to say each name correctly. Hearing their baby’s name(s) spoken is the highlight of the walk for many families, and it is so important to not mess it up. It is a lot of work, but a true labor of love, and I always breathe a huge, deep sigh of relief when I step off the stage after the reading of the names is finished. The final part of the ceremony is a song. This year, it was “When I Look to the Sky” by Train. While I have always loved that song, the words have never had the meaning for me that they did yesterday, and, as I listened to the words, I couldn’t help but think of Aunt Mary. A couple of stanzas in particular caused the tears to freely flow down my face and drip onto my shirt.
Cause when I look to the sky something tells me you're here with me
And you make everything alright
And when I feel like I'm lost something tells me you're here with me
And I can always find my way when you are here
It made me think of while Aunt Mary is not physically here with me, she will always be “with” me in my heart. There have been so many times over the years that just thinking of her and her sweet ways and gentle voice was a calming presence in my life. While I wish on many days that I could pick up the phone and call her (and I still remember her phone number!), I am comforted by knowing that much of who I am today is directly related to who she was.
This stanza made the tears flow even more than they already were:
But with you I can spread my wings
to see me over everything that life may send me
Aunt Mary truly helped me spread my wings and saw me through many things that life sent my way. She had a remarkable way of making me look at things in ways I may not have thought of, and she did it in such a way that I felt empowered, not put down for how I was feeling.
Last night, I lit these candles in memory of my babies, my sister’s baby and my friend’s baby. I thought long and hard how to include Aunt Mary this year, and when I walked into the kitchen to fetch my Aim N Flame from a cabinet, this glass bird sitting on the kitchen window ledge caught my eye. I bought it months ago on clearance at Hobby Lobby for $3 because it reminded me of a Cardinal. I had to buy it for a couple of reasons…the obvious one being the St. Louis Cardinals. The second reason was because it reminded me of Aunt Mary. She wasn’t a baseball fan, but she loved cardinals. I remember the year that someone gave her a wreath at Christmas time to hang on the door of her apartment, and she left it up year ‘round because even though it was very Christmas-y, there was a cardinal perched among the fake snow sprinkled holly leaves and pine branches. When I saw the cute little glass bird, I had to buy it, and it has been sitting in my kitchen window since March, and I envisioned placing some holly or pine around it with a candle when I decorate for Christmas. So I added it to my candle display at 7 PM last night.
I also had this candle burning just for Aunt Mary in honor of it being 100 years since this special person came into the world.
I think it is now time to close this. I know my written words are all over the place, but that is because my thoughts are all over the place. I will close with one final thought of Aunt Mary. At her birthday party nearly 10 years ago, I remember thinking how much differently her life could have turned out. She and my uncle lived through really hard times during the depression as a newly married couple. She suffered with not being able to have children when she would have been a terrific mother and wanted to be so desperately. In her lifetime, she watched all of her four siblings have children and grandchildren and great grandchildren and great-great grandchildren. I often think how Aunt Mary could have ended up bitter and alone in her old age instead of surrounded by so many people who cherished her as much as she cherished them. She truly made lovely, refreshing lemonade from a big ol’ bowl of sour lemons. She taught me so many things. The two most important gifts I think of her giving me are the power of unconditional love and the ability to always look for the good things in life.
I will leave this with a picture of my Aunt Mary at her 90th birthday. Sadly, that was the last time I saw her alive. She died a few months later, and I was unable to be with her when she died because we were in the midst of a snowstorm. That is my one regret that I don’t know that I will ever get over…that I didn’t move heaven and earth to be with her when she died. I have prayed and hoped many times over the years that she always knew that I loved her as much as she loved me. But, she taught me something even in death, and that is to never let a day go by without letting those we love know how we feel about them.
My beautiful Aunt Mary:
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