The Rocking Chair

  There is a little lady that I have called "Aunt" ever since I was a wee tot. She is actually my mother's cousin so I suppose that makes her more of a cousin than an aunt but it always seemed disrespectful to call her by her first name.  Now that she is pushing the young age of ninety, it even seems more disrespectful so "Aunt" it is.  Auntie had asked a few weeks ago if Mark would be opening any oysters soon and if he was, could she buy some from him.  Well, that would never do since Mark is not about to charge her for anything!  Today, I called her to tell her that we would be bringing her a quart of oysters.  She told me that she was not feeling well and could not fry the oysters so I volunteered to prepare a meal for her.  An idea popped into my head!  Mark and I would go eat lunch with her!  Within a half hour, a meal of fried oysters, scalloped potatoes, spinach salad with sauteed shrimp and raspberry vinaigrette dressing and a quick dessert of fried apples was tossed together and hauled to her house.  We brought Christmas plates and napkins so no dishes were needed.  What fun!

  This was the most enjoyable time I have had in a long while.  She beamed the whole time we were there, plus, she passed along a lot of family history.  Some of this history might be a bit skewed since her memory is failing a bit but whose isn't?  Once we finished our meal, she asked for me to look at some paintings on her walls.  These were not by some famous artists nor were they highly valuable...instead the paintings were priceless.  Most of the ones she showed me had been painted by her mother decades ago.  I listened to her stories and did a lot of oohing and ahhing over the pictures.  I really liked them!  She then gave me tags and asked me to put my name on the back of the ones I liked so they would go to me later.  This was hard for me to do since I always feel greedy!  Afterwards, she took to a back room and showed me a rocking chair.  "This was my grandmother's chair.  Later it was my Aunt Ruthie's chair." she said.  "Sit down and see if it fits."  Well, I had never been "fitted" for a chair before but I have to admit the chair was very comfortable!  "Yes!  It fits nicely!" she said.

  Later when we leaving, Auntie told Mark to put the chair in the truck. Wow!  I was just given my great-grandmother's rocking chair!  What a gift!  What an honor! This is something that I will cherish and will pass on to one of my kids somewhere down the line.  

   Had things been different and not turned to where Auntie was giving me treasures, I would still say that this was a perfect way to spend the day.  She and I had a grand time just being together.  Note to self....do this more often.  The verbal family history lesson of today was amazing. Receiving a family heirloom was priceless.  The time spent with an elderly lady was fulfilling,  The look of happiness in her eyes was a blessing.  

An Old Lady..A Little Blue Vase..A Lot of Love

  I got a phone call the other day from someone requesting a visit to the Little Bayou House.  This was from a little old lady who is nigh on ninety years of age.  She is my mom's first cousin but ever since I was a wee tot, I called her "aunt". Although, she refers to me as a cousin and has often said that I can call her by her first name, it just does not seem appropriate. I guess old habits do die hard.  She is still Aunt and always will be.  I am stubborn.  Anyway, she wished to come visit on "Friday morning...early".  Sounded good to me.  Sure enough, this morning around eight thirty in the morning, I heard a soft tapping at my door. She had arrived!

  I opened the door with much glee.  I had not seen her in ages, so it seemed.  There she stood grinning ear to ear holding her purse and jacket in one hand and a walking cane in the other.  "Come in!  Come in!" I exclaimed.  She told me that she was in and not to hurry her.  This is what I love about her...she is very direct, very to the point and still likable.  We get along fine.  After grasping my arm for support, she made her way into the living room.  She chose to sit at the old dining table that now inhabits the room.  After hanging the cane and jacket on the back of the chair, she gingerly laid her purse on the table in front of her.  She sat there grinning at me.  "Before we look at your crafts, I have something for you."  She opened the purse and pulled out a small blue vase.  "I like you. Here, this is for you." was all she said.   Wow!

   There was no tale behind the vase, no family history lesson attached and no further explanation.  I oohed and ahhed over the little vase.  And to be honest, I love it.  For all I know this thing might be a dime store purchase or even a regifted item but it does not matter to me.  Although it is a pretty little thing, it is not the vase that brings the happiness, it is the thought.  This little old lady ventured out of her secure home to come see me and thought to bring a little gift.  People do not do that any more. In times past, folks would never dream of dropping in on a neighbor or visiting someone across town without some token of love in hand.  She was from a different era.  She was from an era when folks held fast to old customs, when times were more about sharing and bringing happiness, when folks cared.  You are hard pressed to find folks like this anymore.  Now it is all about "me" and not about others.  A tiny blue vase sure means a lot.  An "aunt" sure means a lot.  A visit sure means a lot.  Then....we looked at crafts!

If Only There Was A Switch

  I have this quirky aunt who does some of the strangest things.  Now that she is nearing the age of ninety, those things are occurring more often than ever.  The only difference is that what used to be strange but funny things now have at times changed to strange but sometimes hurtful things.  I realize that this is due to a bit of dementia setting in with age so, instead of getting upset, I try my best to overlook any such incidences.  She is under several doctors' care which is all we can ask at this point in time.  

  Today hunting for a flashlight, I found a small plastic lantern.  This is a battery-operated "toy" type thing and not one that is of much use.  I giggled when I pulled it from the cabinet.  Most folks would have tossed it long ago but it reminds me of so many things.  Back before Hurricane Katrina, my oldest son went overseas with the military.  This tiny, toy lantern was a gift to him from this aunt.  Aunty thought this would be a grand thing for him to pack in his bag of gear.  "This will give you a bit of light when you don't have any in your tent." she told him.  Being the good man he is, my son thanked her profusely and set the lantern aside.  We had a good laugh over the incident after she left the Little Bayou House.  Could you imagine the guffaws from the other soldiers on seeing the toy lantern being unpacked?  Needless to say, the lantern stayed here.

  During and after Hurricane Katrina, I admit that the toy lantern did come in handy.  Without power for weeks and weeks, the lantern burned brightly.  Its tiny bit of golden glow somehow made things seem better.  Once the crews repaired the power lines, the lantern was stashed in the closet and forgotten....until today.

  I put batteries in the slots and was amazed to find that the toy still worked.  Its little bulb beamed brightly.  I thought about that lantern and it still functioning.  How I wish that Aunty was still doing as well as it.  It is sad to watch a loved one go downhill to the point that everyday life becomes a chore.  Dementia patients can experience many emotions in a matter of minutes.  They can be scared, sad, angry and paranoid with no apparent explanation other than they lack control of their lives. Aunty realizes that things are not the same anymore and that in itself is a challenge. I do so wish I had a switch to turn to make her light up again...just like the little toy lantern.  Burn bright, Little Lantern, burn bright for Aunty.