It has been my great privilege to have had some pretty remarkable women in my world growing up. One, I now share a particularly strong bond with. As you all know by now, my mother has dementia. As I resemble her baby sister, her brain has been able to convince her that I am, indeed, her baby sister, Stasia. I mean, she can’t possibly have children as old as my brother and me, so I have to be her sister, right? It happens so frequently that I don’t even notice anymore. Sometimes she’ll call me by my rightful name, but refer to me as her baby sister. Sometimes I’m simply Stasia from the get go. It’s quite the honour to share the persona of Aunt Stasia, even if it’s only in my mother’s eyes.
You see, Aunt Stasia is an extraordinary human. She is kind and thoughtful. She has a way of making the world around her a much kinder and prettier place to be. She makes time to talk to everyone – especially if there are kids involved. She is genuinely interested in any silly or foolish or serious or fictitious musings from the mouths of babes! They’re drawn to her because they can see the twinkle in her eye and the kindness in her smile. I swear to all that is good, and this is me, as cynical as they come, that Aunt Stasia spreads pixie dust wherever she goes.
When I was a little girl there was no one as beautiful or as sweet as my Aunt Stasia. With her humongous, gorgeous blue eyes that dance with laughter day in day out, she always seemed to simply understand without explanation. As a child, I was either in performance mode or quiet and exceedingly shy. Every single emotion I ever felt as a child in her presence was validated, supported and nurtured back to health. Every one. She didn’t ever ask why; but instead worked on loving the hurt and the anxiety right out of me and everyone else lucky enough to be in her presence.
To say we LOVED going to Aunt Stasia’s house as kids is the biggest understatement of the century. Her home in the country, about 20 minutes from town was always a bustle of energy and activity. With three kids of her own, her husband, a dog and a cat…we were always warmly greeted with the inside family joke salutation of How’s yourself? (may have been changed to protect family secrets lol) There was always the pyrex pot full of tea and a hearty welcome…big, delicious, homemade meals were served in that little yellow house.
I remember playing with her daughter’s walking doll; and painting toenails; and playing tetherball; and begging to go for a walk to the school to play on the playgrounds there; and picnics in the screen tent; and blueberry picking in the field. I remember Aunt Stasia throwing sheets in the dryer just before we’d get out of the shower and her wrapping us up in their warmth as we got out. I remember her saying late in the hot summer evenings, alright, pack it up…piling us all into the car and heading for a night time swim at the beach to cool off! I remember her driving her fancy red car! I remember being terrified of the coyotes we could hear howling in the field behind her house and even though she was sleeping to go work nights that night, welcomed me and her youngest right into bed with her to keep the howling coyotes at bay! I remember blasting CCR as loud as it could go and learning to sing along!
Aunt Stasia isn’t the aunt that always remembers your birthday. Well, I shouldn’t make that blanket statement because she probably does. So, I should say, Aunt Stasia isn’t the aunt you will always hear from on your birthday. You’ll hear from her on a random Tuesday, months later, when the most thoughtful gift, hand picked for you, shows up on your doorstep.
She’s the aunt who faithfully mailed me big bags of pink peppermints all the way to Brussels, Belgium when I was an exchange student there in the 90s — all cause she knew how much I loved them and knew I couldn’t get them there.
She’s the aunt who near lost her mind the first time I took her underage daughter to a house party and didn’t get her home til 5am…but never once did she ever raise one worry or concern or harsh word to me about it. Not one. Side bar, having her arrive home at 5am wearing a tshirt that wasn’t hers that read “I Fear No Beer” was an added bonus! hahaha
Aunt Stasia goes overboard on presents. Always. And not just the random birthday presents in November. But at Christmas too (and even Easter or when you’re in the hospital or whenever!!). She puts such thought into every single present that it makes us all feel so special and seen and heard and valued and loved. It’s not AT ALL about the actual gift; it’s that this amazing woman took the time to think of something so special that suits you exactly. If I were to go to any one of my cousin’s houses in the days after Christmas and look at all their presents, I would be able to pick out exactly what came from Aunt Stasia. Her signature kindness and prettiness gives her away every time.
When my Dad was nearly killed in a workplace accident while I was in university, Aunt Stasia opened her heart and her arms and her home to me. She’d fill my belly and always had some cranberry and 7up to sip on as I’d share every fear and worry I had. Aunt Stasia’s is the place you pop into for 5 minutes and in the blink of an eye 5 hours has passed. This is also true when you run into her at Walmart…so you have to always be aware of the store’s closing time before stopping! haha
When I met my husband under not so common circumstances, I faced criticism and judgement from within my family and without. Not from Aunt Stasia. She was absolutely shocked that we received such judgement as its simply not part of her world. She is the LEAST judgmental person I have ever met in my entire life. She wanted to know all about this Joan who’d stolen my heart…and loved him from the minute she laid eyes on him.
Lordy is she going to hate this blog post!!!! She hates any amount of attention focused on her. She quietly goes about her life, doing good things for others without EVER wanting any thanks.
We couldn’t find Mom’s recipe book for quite some time after her dementia diagnosis. I very much felt the pressure to keep Mom’s food traditions alive. So I wanted to start making beets and mustard pickles and chow; and gumdrop cake at Christmas, etc etc. Aunt Stasia generously shared every recipe of hers and every tip and trick! Without question. Without hesitation. For us, it was the next best thing to Mom’s own. When I started planting my own gardens, I started adding a few extra cucumber plants and a few extra tomato plants to ensure I could stock both myself and Aunt Stasia at harvest time. I try to sneak over and drop a basket of stuff on her doorstep…but even then she tracks me down and hides financial compensation — never ever wanting to put anyone out. But, in reality, it’s no extra work and it’s something I know I can do for her and I love to do it!! So I will continue to do so and continue to try to thwart her attempts at compensation!
What more could I say about my beloved aunt? Have I talked about how she has the patience of Job and is the most laid back creature God ever gifted to this world? She does have the memory of an elephant but if that’s the one fatal flaw, so be it haha.
As I morph into her in my mother’s eyes, I feel challenged to be kinder and more thoughtful; to be more patient and understanding; to be laid back and non judgmental; to be all the amazing things she is!! Thank YOU Aunt Stasia for always being my true blue kindred spirit…I couldn’t imagine morphing into anyone else!
May we all strive to be less judgmental and more kind…a true mark of an AuntStasiaism if ever I saw one….
Dandelion Wishes 