Aunt Evelyn

Aunt Evelyn has always been in my life, and my memories of her have always been wonderful.  One of those memories was that she kept a fully stocked candy dish on her living room coffee table, which was accessible by everyone entering her home.  Although the stock in the candy dish was varied, anyone interested in peering inside was guaranteed to find something tempting and savory.  She never seemed to mind repeat offenders either.  In fact, if you were a regular visitor she inventoried your favorite candy and had it readily available when you arrived.

I can't remember how many haircuts she'd given me when I was little.  She had a red stool on which I would perch in her kitchen on Etruria Street, while she cut my hair.  She draped a sheet overtop of me, which she kept in a cupboard in a little room  off of the kitchen.  I wasn't the only recipient of her haircuts.  She was pretty good with scissors, so many of our family members frequented her house for haircuts........and candy.

I think Aunt Evelyn wore high-heeled shoes up until she broke her leg during a fall in her basement.  And I don't mean occasionally wearing high-heeled shoes, I mean every time I saw her.  I have a very vivid memory of her working at Thorofare, in the east end of East Liverpool, and every time my mom and grandmother took me to that store when she was working, she had on spiked high heels.  She was a cashier.  Back then that business didn't have those cushiony mats on which to stand to keep your back from hurting if you were required to stand in one place for very long, however I never recalled Aunt Evelyn complaining about a sore back or even sore feet. 

As I mentioned earlier, her high-heeled days came to an end when she fell while in the basement of her Southview Drive home and broke her leg.  She lived alone and realized it would be quite some time before anyone would find her down there if she didn't do something to help herself.  So she scooted herself up out of the basement on her bottom.  Unfortunately the first telephone which she could reach was located in the living room, which meant she had to scoot herself from the basement, through the kitchen and dining room, and finally into the living room where the phone was located on a far end table beyond the sofa.  I first learned of her mishap while I was at work at the hospital where she was taken.  My mother phoned me to tell me of her accident.  As soon as I was able, I visited her in her hospital room, where she was lying with an air cast on her broken leg.  We soon learned she would have to have surgery to repair the damage.  My mom and I spoke with orthopedic surgeon who was going to perform her surgery.  I informed him she had osteoporosis.  He told us he was going to have to insert a metal plate in her leg which would be held in place by pins.  He doubted she'd heal well, what with her condition, but told us her only chance at being able to walk again was to have that surgery.  Obviously she healed very well.  In fact, she walked without a limp once she fully recovered from that injury.

When my Aunt Patty was diagnosed with lung cancer and given only a few short months to live, my family and I were invited to visit her and celebrate with her on Mother's Day.  In fact, my cousin Doris, Aunt Patty's youngest daughter, invited all of our extended family to her house for this celebration.  I asked Aunt Evelyn if she'd like to ride out with my family and she happily agreed.  As I recall, the visit was quite nice.  Our family has always had a way of embracing the good things in life while minimalizing the bad.  We talked little of Aunt Patty's illness,  instead sharing fun memories and filling her ears with our hopes and dreams of things to come for all of us.  On the way home, my son spied "Magic Mountain," a miniature golf course.  He asked if we could stop.  I asked Aunt Evelyn if she minded.  She not only didn't mind, she wanted to play!  And play we did.  Aunt Evelyn carried her purse with her throughout the entire course, hoisting it up onto her shoulder when it was her turn to putt.  Aunt Evelyn came in second behind my husband, yet it wasn't as if we let her win.  She was either that good, or the rest of us were that bad. 

Aunt Evelyn was a bit of a card shark.  I recall playing many games of 500 Bid with her, my mom, and my mom's best friend Norma.  I liked having her as my partner because she always won.  And it wasn't because she was just lucky, she was very adept at cards and could remember what cards had been played. 

She welcomed me to stay at her house while my kids were taking piano lessons at a house nearby on Monday evenings.  During those visits she was my sounding board whenever I had problems which were difficult to solve.  She gave me an hour of free counseling.  Her wisdom and years of experience were worth more to me than any psychologist I could have paid.  But she wasn't pushy about advice.  In fact, she and I would watch Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune together while we talked.  I think it was one of her ways of bringing out more of what bothered me, and it was quite effective. I was never able to stay until the end of Wheel of Fortune to see who won however, but Aunt Evelyn would fill me in once I got home and called her.  I think she was more interested in knowing we made it safely home than in telling me who won, but either way it was a good memory.

I last saw her in October of 2016, when she came to my house with my mom and my cousins.  We celebrated her birthday.  She was suffering pain from arthritis at that time, but complained little of her ailments.  She was having difficulty hearing, but still engaged in our lively conversations.

 She taught me a lot.  Like her, I give family haircuts.   Like her, I have a candy dish filled with delectable treats which I always keep stocked.  Like her, I try to make every visitor to my house feel important and wanted.  Like her, I make listening a priority when in the presence of those I love.

She was in every sense, a very smart, classy, and fun woman.  She will definitely be missed.  But her memory will live on in all of us whose lives she's touched.  I feel very privileged and blessed to be able to say she was my great aunt.  She earned that title.  She truly was a great aunt.