Thank You Aunt Blanche

fureverywhere

fureverywhere

beloved friend who will always be with us in spiri
Location
Northern NJ, USA
For some of us there were aunts and uncles not related by blood but good friends of our parents. My mother had a world of friends. One aunt who I can't recall her name but she had a huge garden full of feral cats. I loved her house. Then there was Aunt Evelyn. She had a huge spoiled Persian that she would decorate with eye shadow and lipstick.

Really right down to the satin pillow. Then there was Aunt Blanche. Traveled the world and married rich. She sent books every holiday. My tats now are from one of those books. I remember her dog. A bull mastiff confined to his dog house. I would sit and pick the bugs off him...poor baby. Gave me a love of the bullie's though.
 

I think back in the day we all had aunts and uncles who really weren't related by blood. In my family if the friend was highly thought of and seemed closer than just being a friend the kids in the family were taught to call them Aunt or Uncle instead of Mr. or Mrs. Just a sign of respect. Heaven forbid you called them by their first name. Every once in awhile I hear a child call an adult by their first name and I cringe. Just the way I was brought up.
 
At the elementary school my friend's daughter attended, the children all called their teachers by their first names. I found that grossly inappropriate. Guess I was brought up the same way you were, Ruth.
 

My two estranged girls were influenced by their uncle to call us by our first names. I remember the one saying she called them aunt and uncle because she "respected" them, not us. If there was ever a time I should have given her a sound beating...not that I'm bitter...of course I am...but anyways...

I think addressing elders respectfully is a beautiful tradition. Even in stores I've worked in the senior employees often had Miss or Miz added to their names...perhaps a Southern thing but very nice indeed.
 
Reminds me of my Great Aunts on my Mother's side. My Granddad had 5 sisters.

Aunt Blanche: She was called 'Bea'. Spinster. Never married. Worked for the same insurance agency as their bookkeeper until the agent retired and closed his office. She was 87 and had worked for him 60 years. He had an upstairs office in downtown and she climbed the stairs everyday until the office closed.
Aunt Mae: Spinster. Never married. Worked as a nurse for her entire career.
Aunt Edna: Married, but widowed very early. Worked in a secretarial job for her entire career.
Aunt Edith: Married and had a couple children. She and her husband farmed. Only one of the sisters to actually live life as a married lady.
Aunt Eithel: Spinster. Never married. Was whispered that she was a "kept" lady. She lived in another state, but would come visit on Christmas. Back then, no one asked questions or did anything more than gossip about her life.

Three out of five never married. A fourth was married only a few months before being widowed. All worked and supported themselves well. Always made over us kids when we visited. All but the one lived about 90 miles east of us in the State Capitol. We would ride the passenger train from our small town into the larger city to visit them. All had cars and drove. One or the other would pick us up at the train station when we would visit.

Certainly a different life back then.....
 
Certainly a different life back then.....

It certainly is but isn't it fun to remember? Even all the eccentric ones, especially the eccentric ones...Like a big wonderful storybook to reread. I mean like the lady with the garden full of cats, it was a magical place for me. She and my Mom would sit and chat and I could pet kitties all afternoon.

Or poor Aunt Evelyn...perhaps a bit demented, but so very happy when my Mom would come to visit. I still remember that huge Persian on her pillow, napping away happily...maybe smudging her eye shadow a bit, but she had everything a cat could want.

Two funny Aunt Blanche stories...except thinking of her dog. If I hadn't been a kid I would have cut his chain and rescued him. The factory folks threw him scraps and she fed him but he was never allowed out of the yard or in the house.

But back to a funny story. My Dad took me to visit one day and she made vichyssoise...cold soup, whatever the heck it was...and she was not a good cook. My Dad quietly poured his into a nearby potted plant. Of course to be polite he said how good it was. She poured him another whole bowl. I snuck outside...I don't think even the dog would eat it.

The other Aunt Blanche story was after she passed away. Her husband was long gone, no family or children so my mother as a close friend was allowed to clear her house. It turns out the old girl didn't trust banks. As my parents sorted her china cabinets bills started fluttering to the floor. She had perhaps thousands of dollars stuffed between dishes in her cupboards...I'm sure my parents sorted everything very carefully before the lawyer got there to close the house:D:D:D
 

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