Friday, September 4, 2015

understanding what an aunt or uncle is

in order to try and understand what i mean by my post heading i will try to dream back and think back to the times i spent and enjoyed my relatives.

i feel i need to do this in the day now of individualism, not collectivism nor community but selfie love and selfie to selfie.

the rewards of having an aunty is amazing.
let me think back and it will be such fun.

Polly - Her real name was Aileen and she had a very large nose, curved like a beak, it seems a crass pet name but she knew why she had it.
we sang 'polly put the kettle on.'  that was, worse.
But Polly being Polly behaved as Polly, quiet, intellectual, bright and brimming with kindness.
she was a tiny lady and neatly dressed.  I admired her clothes, she chose well for a woman of her generation.
her hands as i remember were small and knarled.  with pointy nails as was the style.

she lived with my grandmother, a stern individual indeed.
the two quietly lived together in i think not the most blissful harmony but they did it in grace.
Polly sat by the window of a large and imposing house.  she lay on a chaise longue and read - a lot.
her hair was styled a bit like the present Queen of england.

i walked up her long dark avenue and the first think i would try to catch a glimpse of was Polly on her chaise lounge.
my joy was great because it was a pleasure.
just a pleasure to know my Polly.

she played a large grand piano, and i lay sometimes on the floor or sometimes by a massive fire grate stoking the embers.
i was offered a glass of sherry, much too young!

but it was the times she walked over the hill at the weekends, her time to sit with my family and enjoy us, if she could.
i remember her sitting on the sofa and i would go and get close and comfortable.
she stroked my head as i lay it in her lap, and there i held still never wishing for her to go away or remove her beautiful hand.  she smelt nice, comfortable safe and loving.
I adored my aunty.
she gave me something my mother couldnt god bless her.
she gave me touch, feeling, love and consideration.

i was the last to see her alive and i went to the morgue and sat there as a young person in my twenties.
i put a daffodil into her clasped arms.  i had promised she would be alive to see them in the garden.
it wasnt to be so.
i walked away bereft and deeply wounded by her death.
i never wanted it to happen.
she was to me my surrogate ma.

she snuck up once when i was in bed on christmas day.  there i was halluncinating from glandular fever.  i could hardly see a thing and i then saw my Polly, she came into me and i was dazed.  she didnt say alot but just that she had come to pull a cracker with me, so i didnt feel left out.
she sat beside me, i am sure we talked.

she gave me my first record.  An EP with goldilocks and the three bears on one side and i cinderella on the other, stories being recited.
Dad had carried me downstairs wrapped up in a heavy blanket, sick again, during summer time.
i went beside my aunty and lay as i loved to and listened excitedly to a record.  all mine.

John was an Uncle.
i visited him too as he was just down the road.
not a lot i am afaid but i did.
i knew him in is elder years.  he never said much and was extremely quiet indeed.
he lived in a tiny bungalow and slightly work shy but he had a good job. at the end of his life he was very paralysed by a stroke which took out his whole side and his speech.
i felt so badly for him.

but what IS a relative and what do they mean to another in the family.

a relative is a person who can be anything other than a narky sister or parent.
they can look at a problem with completely fresh eyes and thoughts, they have no agenda, no wish for worse or better, just to be wise and helpful.
but also they can love not like a sister, brother, friend or mother.
they are not supposed to be anything like that, they are the aunty.

to talk wisely too and know that they feel equal and can relate to you well.
they may also be able t be mighty supportive and kind.

the running nephews and nieces of today are running so fast they can be in spain and portugal and uk all in the same month.
when we were young we never got out at all.
but to the runners for fun really there is plenty at home.
the joy of travel is but transitory. it is fun.  it isnt solid sense and stalwart reliables.
the aunty can be there.
to speak freely with and to.  and the aunty doesnt tell porkies, doesnt tell others, just relates in a different and willing style.

Now what about that Aunty?

the aunty misses her nephews and neices.
because relatives do that.
they had grown up in an era of community and benevolence when all shared thoughts, goals and feelings and even if the parental home was harmful the aunts home wasnt nor the grans

missing your older aunty now for the young ones is missing a slice of who you are and where you came from.
that picture of roundedness and completeness.

to understand that a living individual who is your relative loves you must be wonderful.
the relative too, may be a maiden aunt.  with no children of her own and divorced from family life almost entirely.
lonliness can be deeper without the sense of who you are nd to see your young relatives as in the nephews and neices and their children.
to always be around a yung person is the order of the day.
to me the fear of loss that the present young generation are shoring up for themselves is everyone's duty.
to be a friend of an aunty is different but no different to a sister or brother.
and all aunties need that link, no matter what.

I walked automatically up the garden path to my aunti and her mother.
i met them both with glee and promise
i filled up with joy.

the same could happen, but i see my family rarely.
i feel lost and waiting to die
its never nice to be this alone.

but for the nephew and neice who do exist, i never keep thehe door not opened

my path to the door and that window seat is not nearly as long and arduous as to my old aunty and granny.
come visit son and daughter, for that really who they are, just someone elses' and mine on loan for that time i have to offer the different perspective and offer a laugh and a bit of relative relaxation.

but sometimes son come armed with a spanner or a spade, i am not young and i am unwell.
i would welcome you open arms.
lay the spade down aside and the coffee will be brewed, i do a good one.
i shall sit and listen and we can face each other kindly as we have done, but not often.

its not a waste of your day.
it a bonus to your day and your experience.
the fading of youth will come to you as well, no matter how long you try to prolong it.
unless the bonds of family are made one day you will sit and suddenly say'oh shit' there is no one i can really speak to this about.
when that time comes you are near the end.
when that time comes then the aunty can be at her best believe it or not.

curiosity will take over.
the eyes will wander and also away from your difficulties.

the aunt can have a coffee and a bit of cake.

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