Friday, March 31, 2017
Aunt Florence was the other aunt older than my mother. She was curvaceous in the style of that time but never would you mistake her for being overweight. She had a lovely round face and the most beautiful evenly toned skin.
My mother and her sisters were all very close to each other. They lived on a farm and usually only left to go to school. They were all each other had. When horses were the only transportation you had for travel of any distance you were severely limited.
Aunt Florence married Uncle Harold. I could listen to him talk forever. His voice was hypnotic. Many Sunday afternoons I would sit on the porch just to hear the sound of his voice.
Florence and Harold dearly wanted children. For some reason it was not happening.
In the meantime I was born. Aunt Florence had me at her house quite often. I loved it there. She had a box of toys that I could play with as long as I wished. My favorite was a toy telephone. I have so many fond memories of being at her house. It was truly a second home for me.
Eventually Aunt Florence and Uncle Harold moved to Missouri. Of course I could not see her as often. We did go down there for a week one time.
They had a pretty front yard. No children to mess it up you know. Anyway the grass was so inviting. We had so much fun rolling around and doing somersaults in that lush green.
When we were getting ready for bed we were all in distress. We itched and had red bumps all ove. The lawn was full of chiggers. I had not had contact with those before.
Out came the Bactine. It stung and the itching did not seem to go away. It took a couple of days for the itching to stop.
Aunt Florence still desperately wanted a baby.
My grandfather dies when I was finishing my senior year in high school. My family went to the little town in Nebraska where my grandparents lived. Grandpa was a wonderful man and raiseda fine family.
When we first got there and walked into the house someone said, "Hi EmmaLine." No one had called me that since I had been a lot younger. I looked and there was a man with a bit of chin hair and a strange haircut. It was not just a bowl cut but a mixing bowl cut. He was soft looking and a bit overweight.
I muttered a quick, "Hello" and hurried into the kitchen to greet Grandma. I went to my mother and asked her who the funny looking man in the living room was.
Mom laughed at me and said, "That's Florence." I was shocked.
I went back to talk to my aunt. I loved her so much. She was sincerely happy to see me. She was.undergoing treatments to try to have that elusive baby.
I spent as much time as I could with her while we were there. I had missed her. It was sad When we had to say good-bye. As it turned out it was the last time I would ever see her. I married and moved far away.
But there is good news. The year I had my first baby my aunt had a baby girl. It was her only child and she was overjoyed to have her.
My Aunt Florence died after her daughter was an adult. Life may not have granted her a child easily but she had those years with her daughter that I know she cherished. After all I knew what a loving person she was.
The reason she looked so different to me was that she was very feminine when I had known her before. As soon as her fertility treatments stopped she once again looked like the aunt I knew and loved.