aunt
When my girls were 4 years old and 3 years old, we were living on my in-law’s land, while we got our land ready to move onto. During that time, my sister-in-law, Brenda, and my brother-in-law, Ron were in elementary school and often needed help with their homework. I enjoyed helping them out, so they usually came to me for that help. So, many nights we had a tutoring session at my house. It’s pretty hard to run a tutoring session with small children around, who want to play.
I needed to come up with a way to help my sister and brother-in-law, and occupy my young daughters. Like most kids, the girls just wanted to do the same things the big kids were doing. The problem was that they were too young and would need more help than I could give them right then.
So, after giving it a little thought, I got each of my daughters a piece of paper and a pencil and told them to do their homework too. I was amazed at the way they did their homework. The girls didn’t scribble or draw pictures, but rather they made small careful circles. They were making their letters. As a mother, I was impressed and pleased at their very good attempt to mimic their aunt and uncle’s homework. They even stayed on the lines fairly well.
Things went on that way for a short time, and then Brenda and Ron started needing help with spelling. That…was the beginning of the problem. Before I knew it, Corrie and Amy wanted to learn to spell too. It all seemed innocent and, well even cool, but having them ask how to spell every word they could think of did get old after a while.
On day they started asking me how to spell the names of all their aunts and uncles. I was busy with other things, and really didn’t have time to go through every family member’s name. By the time we got to my sister-in-law, I had had just about enough of spelling. So, when they asked me how to spell Brenda, I very quickly blurted out B-r-e-n-d-a. Well, the girls caught BR, and that is the name that stuck.
At first, Brenda didn’t know if she liked the new nickname or not. When she was little, 
Jennifer had called her Bea, and she thought it would work into Aunt Bea. She never expected to be BR or Aunt BR. Still, it was a name that grew on her, and the kids really liked it. Before long, everyone was calling her BR. She has it on her license plate, and people have bought her blocks and plaques that say BR. It is her own nickname, unique and original…even if it was an accidental nickname.
Few things were as exciting to my sister-in-law, Marlyce as the day she became an aunt. Marlyce had always loved babies, and these babies were special. She was so pleased to be such a grown up thing as an aunt. These babies were family, meaning they belonged to her.They were her nieces and nephews…hers!! When Marlyce held one of her babies, her face glowed with pure joy. She was in Seventh Heaven!!
Marlyce was born developmentally disabled, so there were some things that she couldn’t do as well as other people, but one thing she could do as well, or better than anyone else, is to be an aunt…to love her nieces and nephews. As the kids grew, they also grew to love their Aunt Marlyce, who never tired of spending time with them. Marlyce never changed. She would always be a child in an adult’s body, timeless and unchanging, and really, that was a big part of her charm. Marlyce simply loved. There was no falseness, no facade…she was who she was.
When the kids were older, they teased Marlyce, and she did get irritated at them. but all they had to do was say they were sorry, and give her a hug, and it was all over with. Marlyce was always forgiving. She couldn’t be angry or hateful. And for those who didn’t tease her much…well, she would do just about anything for them. You just couldn’t find a sweeter person than Marlyce. My girls and their cousins were blessed to be able to call her aunt.
Marlyce has been gone for over 22 years now, and it makes me sad that she did not get to see her grand nieces and nephews. She would have loved them, and they would have been so blessed to have known her. People didn’t come sweeter than Marlyce. It makes me sad that she is gone, because we, her family have lost so much when we lost Marlyce. My grandchildren never got to know her. They never had the chance to witness for themselves what a wonderful, sweet person she was. I feel especially bad for them, because as big a loss as losing Marlyce was to our family, it was a much bigger loss for my grandchildren…like a missing piece of themselves.
When two brothers and their sister live way out in the country with their mom, and their dad is away on the railroad a lot, they have to find things to do to entertain themselves. I have talked to to my dad and my Uncle Bill about their antics with dynamite on the 4th of July and riding trains to school, and fixing the gatepost before their mom got home…another result of dynamite mixing with boys. And I know that my Aunt Ruth loved all animals…especially horses. But how did they feel about each other, and their older sister. I’ve often wondered that, since we didn’t get to see my aunts and uncle very often.
I think there was a very close bond between those three younger children of my grandparents. Their older sister, my Aunt Laura was 10 years older than her little brother, Bill, 12 years older than my dad, and 13 1/2 years older than my Aunt Ruth. Aunt Laura was in many ways a second mother to the younger three children. She was old enough to help with them when they were babies, and babysit them when they were older…not that she was totally able to keep them out of trouble. And by the time they were grown up, my Aunt Laura was married and raising her own family.
Still, I think that the Spencer children were very close. And I think the younger three, at least, shared a love of animals. My dad always loved dogs, and of course, dogs and farms just seem to go together as do dogs and kids, but I think few people loved dogs as much as my Aunt Ruth, unless it is my grandson, Caalab, who seems to have a lot of likes in common with my Aunt Ruth…not so unusual in that I am also a lot like my Aunt Ruth. Horses and farm kids also go together. They are transportation, before they are old enough to drive, and a lot cheaper than a car to run. Plus, there are things you just can’t do very easily with a car, like standing up on it’s hind legs. Yes, I think they had some great times back then.
Those days are long gone now, and my Uncle Bill is the only one left. The years took each of the Spencer kids in different directions, and different places around the country. My Uncle, who was the first real adventurer in the family, ended up back in Superior, Wisconsin, where they all grew up. My Aunt Laura would live several places, but finally settled in Portland, Oregon. Like her older sister, my Aunt Ruth also lived several places, 
but finally ended up in Newport, Washington. My dad moved around some, until he met my mom and then it was 5 years in Superior, and the rest of his life in Casper, Wyoming. I think that like most siblings, there were times they disagreed, but I do not believe there was ever a time when they didn’t love each other. And, while the years and the miles separated the Spencer kids, they still loved each other very much and spoke through the years, even if they didn’t get to see each other much.
As kids, we all thought snow was the coolest thing. We couldn’t wait for it to start so we could go out and play in it…provided it wasn’t a school day. If it was a school day, we all hoped that it would come down so hard that school would be cancelled. Funny how if you were in school and it snowed, you thought it was great fun to have indoor recess, but if school was out, you couldn’t wait to get outside to play. And it didn’t matter if it was early in the day or late at night, snow simply called for playing outside. It called out to you…”Come and build a snowman with me!!”
And once you got the snowman built…if you were blessed with a block full of kids, you were all set for a snowball fight. Of course, the first thing you needed to do is build a fort. You needed a place to hide from the incoming snowballs, because we 
all know what happens to that poor person who gets caught with out some form of cover. That person is really in a lot of trouble, because very soon, the snowballs are going to start flying, and they will not show mercy. It is nothing personal. It’s just the way the game is played. Survival of the fittest is the name of the game. Of course, it’s even more fun if that poor victim of the attack is your mom or aunt.
There were always so many ways to have fun in the snow when you were a kid. One of the most fun, of course, was throwing someone else in the snowbank…preferably a girl right. And when you get your three grandsons going against your only granddaughter…well, she is going in the snow. Even if she doesn’t want to mess up her hair and makeup, because she is going to the mall. Shai was 
a good sport when her cousins Chris and Josh, and her brother Caalab threw her in the snow, and rubbed snow in her face.
For kids, snow days are the best part of winter. Hoping for a day off from school to hang out with your friends and cut loose a little. And in my opinion, it’s just as well that we like snow when we are kids, because many of us really don’t later on. Maybe it’s the driving in it, or maybe we just get more thin skinned as we get older. My idea of a good thing to do on a snow day…sitting in front of a roaring fire with a cup of hot chocolate, and reading a good book on my Kindle. Oh yeah!! That’s what I’m talking about.
Bob’s Aunt Marion was a wonderful, hard working woman, who died in 1999 at the age of 72. She always seemed so young and full of life, but I guess that is what comes from staying so busy that you don’t have time to notice advancing age or illness. She raised 8 hard working children, 5 girls and 3 boys. Her youngest son is actually younger than her first grandson.
I was always a little in awe of Aunt Marion. She seemed to have it all together. Nothing phased her, and yet she never made you feel like she better than you, or that you were worthless. We didn’t get to see her as often as we would have liked, but always enjoyed the times we got to spend with her and her family. Her kids were very much like her, so they remind me a lot of their mom.
Aunt Marion’s husband, Uncle John passed away a few days ago on December 13th at the age of 85, and I have found myself thinking about him and the kids a lot. They told us that he worked hard all summer, and apparently didn’t tell them that he had cancer, until it had advanced to the point of much pain. It breaks my heart to think of him suffering in silence, working hard, and hoping that his children…who work with him in the family business, by the way…won’t notice. It’s so hard on the kids to think back, looking for a sign, and wondering if they should have noticed more. It brings quite a lot of guilty feelings and regret. In reality, I’m sure there was nothing they could have done, other than to provide moral support, but if that is all you can do, you feel better if you were given the chance to do it.
I have thought a lot about Aunt Marion through the years, and I’m sure I will do the same with Uncle John. I’m thankful that neither one is in pain anymore, but I wish that they were both still with us. It is always so hard to deal with loss. I know it is natural…the circle of life, but it seems to get harder with each and every loved one that leaves us. I don’t think I like it much…natural or not.
When my Aunt Evelyn was a toddler, her parents were trying to teach her how to address different adult family members. Whenever she called an aunt or uncle by their first name, her parents would say, “You must say Uncle Ted or Aunt Gladys.” I’m sure she heard those words many times, as it is hard for a toddler to hear everyone else calling the person by name, and yet they must use something different. It can be a very confusing time for a little kid just trying to learn the ropes.
These days, at least in our family, many of the aunts and uncles go by just their first names, and while some people might think that odd, I am just as comfortable being Caryn as I am Aunt Caryn. We don’t consider it to be any kind of a show of disrespect. But in times past, and in many families today, if the person is an aunt or uncle, you must address them as Aunt this or Uncle that. We do draw the line at grandma and grandpa, and my grandchildren know that while Gma, G, or G-mamma is ok, Caryn is not. I suppose that could be confusing to little kids too, but that is the way it is. Another place where we draw the line is Mommy and Daddy, or Mom and Dad. But for the aunts and uncles we are a little more casual.
Nevertheless, in my Aunt Evelyn’s day and my childhood, the children were taught to use the proper terms of aunt and uncle. So Aunt Evelyn, in her early training days, heard over and over that she must say Uncle Cliff or Aunt Myrtle. And as all little kids do, she worked very hard to try to figure out who was who so her parents, aunts, and uncles would be pleased with her. Children love to get praise from their parents and such.
One day, when my grandmother needed my grandfather for something, all that training came to the point of complete understanding. My grandmother told my Aunt Evelyn to go get her daddy, and quick as a wink, my Aunt Evelyn said, “You must say…Uncle Daddy.”
We have all had a best friend…someone who is as close to us as a sister or brother, but through the years these close friendships often dwindle and fade into the obscurity of time. Friends go their separate ways as their lives grow and change. Sometimes, those friends go out of our lives never to return…but, sometimes life takes a different direction and the result is quite special.
Machelle and Rachel were best friends in high school and beyond. Their sons were best friends practically from birth. But this friendship will not be one that will dwindle away, because Machelle introduced Rachel to her Uncle Ron. You can introduce someone to a friend, but you can’t make that relationship work. That is up to the new couple. Well, the relationship between Ron and Rachel worked, and in June of 2010, they were married. With this marriage, Rachel went from being Machelle’s friend to being her aunt…but Machelle has informed Rachel that she refuses to call her Aunt Rachel.
And this situation has infiltrated a second generation. Machelle’s son Weston is best friends with Rachel’s son, Riley, and now, because of the marriage of His mom and Ron, Riley and Weston have become so much more that just friends. They are cousins once removed. Of course, most people just call that cousins, because to call it cousins once removed, is just confusing…especially to two boys 
who don’t really care one way or the other about how they are related to their best friend, they are just excited that their best friend will always be their best friend, because they aren’t just friends, they are family.
It’s always a special thing to know that your best friend will always be close to you, abut it is even more wonderful to know that your best friend will always be in your life, because they have become part of your family. And our whole family has been blessed because of the friendship that began with Machelle and Rachel, and grew into parts of a family.
When we look back into our own history, we often wonder who we look like. I suppose it gives us a feeling of belonging to look at our ancestors and see a face there that is very similar to our own. Sometimes those faces are uncannily close to ours even. It seems to be a thought that comes and goes throughout our lives…or maybe it is just at the milestones in life.
Everyone asks the new parents, which one the baby most looks like, and it can be hard to tell when comparing babies to adults, so you look at the baby pictures of the parents for those clues. It is funny, however, when your granddaughter mistakes a picture of you for her. That is what happened to me recently. I had been told from the time she was born that Shai looked like me, and even she and I have noticed a resemblance as she gets older, but I have still had a hard time believing that this beautiful granddaughter I have could possibly take after me.
As she has grown up, she has begun to notice the similarities more and more, as have other people who see us together. It was something I never expected, and yet some pictures I see of us are…almost like a mirror image. I can’t explain how very blessed that makes me feel. I always knew too that her mother, my daughter, Amy looked quite a bit like me as well, but to have 3 generations that look alike is unusual to say the least. The cool thing for me is that unusual or not, that is exactly how it is in my family, and I kind of like that.
Through the years I have found myself looking at my aunts, and grandmothers to see if I look like anyone in particular. I have found that I look similar to my Aunt Ruth and I laugh like her too. I look at my mom and I find that she looks very much like her mom, as does my Aunt Evelyn and my cousin Shelley, who is also Aunt Evelyn’s daughter. My sister Cheryl reminds me quite a bit of my Aunt Sandy. It is simply in the genes. Some characteristics are more dominant than others, and those characteristics are passed along, from generation to generation.
After reading a story I wrote about our grandmother, my cousin Shirley, told me something about her mother, my Aunt Ruth, that shows that while my aunt was a beautiful, petite woman, she was also a strong woman, like her mother before her. My Aunt Ruth has always loved horses. I have a number of pictures of her, and quite often she is with horses. Some people are just amazing with horses…seem to know what they are thinking even. I believe that my aunt was one of those people. In fact, I’m pretty sure she loved most animals. She is also pictured with dogs quite often, and they seemed to be best friends. Not everyone has the gift of being so good with animals, but she certainly did.
Aunt Ruth thrived on the outdoor life. She loved life on a farm, and growing much of their own food. They had a place outside of Casper, Wyoming when I was little, and she had a garden that took up about 3/4 of an acre. Like her mother before her, she taught her children to help care for that garden, and help with the 100 or so chickens she raised every year for butchering. They hunted and froze wild game as well. Not only did my aunt and uncle teach their children how to live off the land and love the outdoors, but to have fun doing it.
As I said earlier in my story, my Aunt Ruth loved horses, but I also think there might have been a bit of an inventor in her. When the work was done, my aunt came up with a great new invention I’ll call The Butter Churn. What?? You don’t think my aunt invented the butter churn? Well…I think you just might be wrong. Let’s just see. My cousin, Shirley tells it like this, “When there was time she would let us take the horse out to ride and she would give us each a quart jar of cream and while we were riding we would turn that cream into butter. She said that was the easiest way to do it but I can tell you it wasn’t that easy on our arms. That was a lot of shaking. But 
the best part was no additives and no preservatives, and boy was it good butter.”
I know, you might say that there is no proof that she was the one to invent that, and you would be right, but there is also no proof, that I know of, that she didn’t, so I’ll just stick by my story that my Aunt Ruth invented a new and, in my opinion, very interesting, although maybe not easy way to churn butter. And since I really like the taste of real fresh butter, I can totally imagine just how good it was. I just wish I could remember it, because I’m quite sure I must have had some.
I don’t pretend to know a lot of the details of my dad’s young life. I do know that the times weren’t always easy, and since my grandfather, who worked for the railroad, wasn’t around much, the kids helped out around the place. My grandmother was a very strong woman, and she was very capable of running the farm. That may have been how many of the women were back then, but as strong women go, she was right up there at the top, or so I’m told. She trained her children to be hard workers, and responsible people, and they all were. My Uncle Bill and my dad told me about blowing tree stumps out of the fields with dynamite so the land could be worked. I’m sure they didn’t mind that job too much, since dynamite was something the also played around with…like blowing gate posts deeper into the ground, only to have to fix it before their mom got back from town. My guess is that she was about the only thing they were afraid of.
My Aunt Laura was ten years older than my Uncle Bill, who was the second child, so she helped with caring for the little ones so her mom could do the other things she needed to do. I’m quite sure that running a farm would have been very difficult without the help of my Aunt Laura, not to mention lonely in those early years, when the younger children weren’t much company. There were fun times too, of course, such as fishing, which the boys thoroughly enjoyed, but there was always work to be done, and the fun times were squeezed into the middle.
Everyone helped out…the girls as well as the boys. From running a horse drawn plow to a tractor, stacking hay and caring for the animals, it was a team effort. The kids had great respect for their mother and would do anything for her. It was a time that was much different from our own. There weren’t as many conveniences, so the land had to be worked in the old ways…using horses. I don’t think my Aunt Ruth minded that too much because many of the pictures I saw her in included horses. They did have a tractor, although I don’t think it was in the early years, but when they did, it was obvious that my Uncle Bill enjoyed using it very much. The boys always liked machinery…throughout their entire lives.
Life on a farm in the late 1920’s and early 1930’s was difficult at its best, and downright ugly at it worst, and it took strong men and women to make things work, but that really is what our country is all about…strong people doing their best to do what is right and good. It is our heritage, and it’s not a bad one. Strong people are what built this country and I believe there are still a lot of us around to continue to make this country great.
