I went to see Aunt B earlier this month (she's actually my great-aunt) as part of a recent trip to the southern portion of the motherland. (see picture). She truly is GREAT! She is amazing, and definitely qualifies as a Top Tier Auntie. I've written about her before, I think...but with such great people, it never hurts to talk about them again.
Isn't she beautiful?
Her husband's pretty great, too. He used to be a weather guy for the Army, and did air gliding as a hobby. (At least, I think that's what it's called.)
They told me the story of how they met. Aunt B was just 17 and Uncle D wasn't much older - maybe 20 or so. Aunt B went to a fireside with her friend, who knew Uncle D, so they all sat together, but the friend had to get up to play the piano. Aunt B says that she was sharing a hymnal with Uncle D, and he stuck her finger with a straight pin to get her attention as a flirty measure. Aunt B didn't like that very much, so she took the pin and stuck him right back. And, as she laughingly says, they've been stuck together ever since. She did say that the older folks used to grumble and scratch their heads a bit at the young folks' behavior, because her friend, who lived close to Uncle D, soon began "going with" a boy who lived near her. As there was a ten mile difference between B and D, and consequently between B's friend and D's friend, it baffled the elders why the youngsters insisted on trotting back and forth so many miles, when they could just switch the couples and eliminate all that fuel use, instead. But none of the four parties thought that was a good idea. They were practicing "cleaving unto" each other even though they hadn't gotten married yet. (Aunt B's friend did marry the neighbor boy, though, and they've all been happy ever since.)
Aunt B is the kind of person I want to be. She's open and loving, and will hug me as many times as I want. All I have to do is ask. (Sometimes, she even asks me for a hug. :) Uncle D has assured me many times that his wife's life-force fuel is hugs. Forget food. She just wants as many huggles as she can get! So I try to provide her with a lot when I see her.) She's always interested in what I'm doing, and she always tells me I'm pretty, and she always tells me something new. She has many treasures (old, really cool things) and lots of stories to go with them, and will freely share.
She doesn't remember things quite like she used to -- when we went to visit, it was clear she knew who I was, and who I belonged to, but she didn't remember my name. She was really cute about it, though, and asked me, "And what do your friends call you when you're not at home?" I was thinking how getting older is harder, in so many ways...and how shocking it would be to not remember things. For example, what if a child of yours passed away, and you couldn't remember? Anytime anybody brought it up, it would be impossible to not feel a pang of heartwrench at the thought as a wave of fresh pain occupied your mind. And then you wouldn't remember, again, and so you'd have to feel the pain over and over.
Maybe I'm wrong, and there's a mercy in the forgetfulness -- that you don't have to carry the grief, but the emotion of the loss (or, I guess, the happiness) doesn't carry as much weight because you're not as connected to it. I can't decide which is worse -- to not be able to feel the loss of things you miss, or to not have the burden of re-living the pain of loss with every mention of it. I wonder if your brain gets dulled to it in time. Someone else will have to tell me that.
In the meantime, I'm remembering the hope of sticking together and the hugging, and that will have to be enough til I find my sticker and get another hug from Aunt B.
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