My elderly uncle, brother of my late father, was visiting.
We talked about family, naturally, he is the oldest living relative on my father’s side and I wanted to be certain all my questions were answered.
I was asking about one of his Aunts, the one with the hunchback, all he knew was his mother would check his back every evening when saying goodnight to him to make sure it was smooth and straight.
“We never found a birth certificate so we could only surmise about her familial relationship based on the fact that she was taken into the family as a baby,” he said, “my mother would not have asked any questions and as a young child I would never ask.
“This is a great pity,” he concluded. He tells me he has told me all he knows. I have it written down.
We know more about his favourite maternal Aunt who was also my favourite Great Aunt and probably anyone else’s who ever knew her as “Aunt,” related or not.
She was generous, welcoming, a good cook and loved all of us unconditionally, as all good Aunts do!
She had none of her own children so we were surrogates to be spoiled and fussed over as much as she wanted.
My uncle said when he was a young man they didn’t have a telephone in the house because no-one they knew had one,
“So what was the point?”
Consequently when he visited his favourite Aunt in London it was invariably unannounced.
“That didn’t matter though,” he said,
“She always had my favourite biscuits, she didn’t eat them herself but there was always an unopened packet in the cupboard for me…just in case!”
I found out, by asking, that his favourite biscuits were chocolate digestives and they were rather a speciality in the post war atmosphere of self denial and spartan living. My brother and I were never offered any on our visits to our Great Aunt, children didn’t need chocolate on their digestive biscuits!
I was touched by this story told with a tenderness in my Uncle’s voice that remained after all these years.
A memory of love.
A memory of waiting for a beloved visitor to arrive.
I find I shop with my family in mind.
I keep favourite foods in the fridge on the off chance they will visit.
My children’s Southern Grandmama kept Fruit Loops in the pantry in anticipation. Not her breakfast cereal of choice!
Hubs’ grandmother always had peanut butter and jelly for sandwiches and chocolate milk to drink, just in case her grandsons came-a-knocking! With diabetes these were not on her diet.
Having favourite food on hand for beloved visitors is an outward sign of inward love.
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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