My Darling Aunts
My mother and her friends married shortly after World War II ended. Having spent their youth engulfed in so much sadness with the Great Depression, war and loss – coupled with their grit and resilience – these women didn’t spend a lot of time analyzing life. They just got on with it.
Unlike my generation, who aspired to be the “perfect Mom” by trying (in vain) to be everything for their children: i.e., the creative mom, the empathetic mom, and the fun mom all rolled into one person; my Mother’s generation instinctively knew that was impossible. They didn’t even bother to try.
Instead they formed a sisterhood or, in our case, a group of “aunties,” who were fiercely protective of each other and all of their off-spring. They laughed a lot, rarely evaluated their parenting skills and were anything but helicopter mothers. They never hovered.
If you wanted to hang out with someone with a quick wit and not make the long walk home at lunch, my Aunt Jackie’s house was the place to go. She spun a great tale and lived in the same block as our elementary school. On rainy days you could head to Aunt Nancy’s for some sort of amazing art project.
While my Aunt Jeff had grown up in a home of privilege, she decided that her home would be informal and casual. She and Uncle Lynn had five children. No matter how or when you showed up, there was always a place for you at the table. Aunt Jeff’s home was a place to relax and just be.
My Aunt Sallie was always in charge, athletic and straightforward. During my rebellious teens she was the one, who gave me a hug and said with absolute clarity, that she loved me, but I needed to knock it off.
Aunt Margaret ran a continual prayer chain (for better or worse) for all of my children at one point in their lives. My Aunt Betty, my birthday buddy, at age 92 continues to be fantastic, funny and loyal. I still like to visit my Aunt Helen. She was the first person I wanted to see after school – she was always ready with a cup of tea, or my case a Tab, and time for a chat.
If you needed someone to make you feel a little bit taller – you sought out my Mom.
In February, we lost one of our most beautiful aunts, Mary Anne. A true southern belle, she was filled with grace – plus a fantastic skier. I was grateful to visit with her a few days before she passed – still amazingly lovely at age 92.
While the individual parenting of my Mother’s generation often bordered on (and I say this with nothing but love) benign neglect, as a group they were invincible. These darling women showed us how to have each other’s back and to take on the responsibility of parenting all the children in the tribe, not just the ones, to which they gave birth. Each auntie contributed their particular strengths and talents to the effort. As children, while we minded and looked for direction from our own individual mothers, we also knew and experienced the gift of having these other loving and extraordinary women enriching our lives.
As we approach Mother’s Day, I’m inviting all of you to give a hug to a girlfriend, mother, grandmother, aunt or sister: someone, who has supported you along the way. Someone, who didn’t judge you for the day that you forgot school pick-up, but instead quietly picked-up your child too, gave them a hug (then you) and brought them home.
Happy Mother’s Day!
P.S. – If you are looking for a Mother’s Day gift, stop by and see us this Sunday, May 6th at the Covet Market being held at Revel Fulton Market. The market will be filled with unique artisanal foods, jewelry, clothing – a real treat!
Zen Moment
“Only an aunt can give hugs like a mother, can keep secrets like a sister, and share love like a friend.” – Author Unknown
