Great Aunts

 When you write a blog or column with any sort of regularity, there is always a fear in the back of your mind that you are going to run out of things to write about.  I worry about that from time to time to time, and I'm sure Shakespeare and Hemingway went through it as well.  I mean that should have been evident the other day when I wrote a 700-word blog about making up a song about collards.

As soon as one blog is finished, you immediately start thinking about the next one.  Where will it come from, what will it be on, is there enough material, etc. etc.  

Today's column, well the idea for the column, came from a phone call I had with my mother this morning. As you are well aware, or at least should be, I call my mother, Princess Charlotte (she likes being called that, but I call her Mom) every morning.  I call her most evenings as well.  She is 88 years young and likes to talk.  About almost anything, but mostly about her adventures and her relatives.

I call her because I want to be a good son, and it's the right thing to do.  I also call her because she has lost a number of friends over the past few years, friends she has known since I made my debut almost 68 years ago.  Mona and Kay, Bev and Barbara, Jean and Bootsie.  Ladies she talked to with regularity.  She misses that, so I have come to realize, I fill that void, which is fine, I don't mind at all.  Sometimes I learn something.

One thing I really love about my mother's parents is they came from big families in Randolph County, Arkansas.  The Dalton's and the Poteet's.  Yes, that is how I got my first name.  My mother's maiden name is Dalton.  It's a southern thing you know.

Anyway, as we talked this morning, we were talking about her aunts, my great-aunts, and all the wonderful things about them, how they were so different.

My grandpa Dalton was one of six boys.  He also had a sister.  My Granny Dalton was one of seven sisters.  She also had two brothers.  So if you count the spouses of my grandpa's brothers, that is 12 great-aunts I had through mom's side of the family.  Most of them I knew quite well.  They were all alive when I was born and I can recall spending time with at least ten of them.

Since my discussion with mom is fresh on my mind, I thought I would write about my great aunts.  Well, at least some of them.

Of the 12 great-aunts I had, there is still one, my Aunt Roxie, who is still alive.  She is my granny's youngest sister.  She is 102 (but looks 80) and lives by herself in St. Louis, even though four of her five kids live nearby.  She still cooks, but has given up driving.  She lives about 15 minutes from mom and nearly every time I am in St. Louis I go see her.  We always have a wonderful visit and almost always, when M and I are getting ready to leave, she insists we stay for cookies and lemonade.

Aunt Roxie is sharp as a tack and likes to talk politics, she is a die-hard democrat and keeps up with current events.  She wants you to as well.  Christmas of 2023, she gave me a subscription to Time magazine, which I thoroughly enjoy.  Since Granny died in 2013, Aunt Roxie has taken her place for me.  I love her dearly.

Of my Grandpa's five brothers, the one he was closest to was my Uncle Roscoe.  Of the six brothers, Grandpa, who died in 1973, was number five.  Uncle Roscoe was number four.  They did everything together and were best friends in addition to being brothers.  

Grandpa and Granny lived in Reyno, but a few miles north of there, in Clay County, was the small town of Datto.  That is where my Aunt Adele was from.  She fit smoothly into the Dalton clan.   They traveled a lot with my grandparents, and I can remember going to Memphis to see them when they lived there.  

My Uncle Roscoe died in 1963.  I was six, and I have some memories of him, but not too many.  But I have a lot of memories of my Aunt Adele.  One, she was glamorous.  She was pretty, attractive, carried herself well, an immaculate dresser, and always wore hats with those dresses.  Janice Kennedy at church reminds me in many ways of my Aunt Adele.  She was always smiling, and despite losing both her husband and her son when they were in their 50's, I never heard her complain and say anything mean to or about anyone.  She was pure class.

The brother just older than Roscoe was my Uncle Acel.  He and my Aunt Tharon lived very close to us in St. Louis, and it was not uncommon for us to stop by there to visit or drop something off and wind up staying for dinner.

Aunt Tharon was a great cook.  She made wonderful biscuits, biscuits that just melted in your mouth.  I also remember her fried okra being among the best I ever had.  She was not tall, but she stood tall in the family.  I was happy when my folks retired and moved to Pocahontas, there in Randolph County, that my Aunt Tharon was living there as well.  I remember her coming to our wedding in 1999.

One of Granny's older sisters was my Aunt Maggie.  She was either number two or three.  Granny was number five of the seven.  There are a couple of things I remember about my Aunt Maggie.  Let me stop for a minute.  I know all these wonderful ladies are my great-aunts, but I just called them aunts.  Ok, Aunt Maggie was a schoolteacher.  She taught in the Berkeley School District in St. Louis for years and years.  For Christmas she would always give Barry and me books.   I know part of my love of for reading came from the encouragement I received from my Aunt Maggie.

One another note about my Aunt Maggie.  When she retired from teaching, she moved back to Reyno, even living with my Granny, her younger sister, for a period of time.  Of the seven sisters, Aunt Maggie was the only one who did not live to see 90.  She was 88 when she passed away.  The other six all lived to be in their 90's and as previously mentioned, my Aunt Roxie is still going strong at 102.  

When I was growing up in the St. Louis suburbs, in addition to my grandparents, I had four sets of aunts/uncles who also attended church where we did.  Uncle Carl and Aunt Roxie, Uncle Acel and Aunt Tharon, Aunt Maggie, Uncle Paul and Aunt Ginny.

We called my Aunt Virginia "Aunt Ginny."  She and my Uncle Paul did not have any children of their own, so all of their nieces and nephews were their children.  When my mother was young they took her on a vacation trip to California.  In the '40's that was a big deal.  She always called mom "Shorty."  My mom is 5-9, she wasn't short, but even when I was an adult, she called my mom shorty.  That always made me laugh.  Aunt Ginny was legally blind and couldn't drive, so for a lot of her senior years, my Granny would take her where she needed to go.   One memory I will always cherish is watching Granny and Aunt Ginny play cards.  They fought and argued when they played cards.  I can still hear my Granny say, "Virginia, what did you play that card for?"  Granny hated to lose.

I could go on and on, but I've written about the five I was closest to, that five I knew the best.  I could add my Aunt Aldena, who was married to my Grandpa's baby brother, Uncle Glen.  After I moved to Pocahontas after M and I got married, I got to know and love her a lot more.  She was always liked showing off her nephew the writer.

Aunt Roxie, Aunt Ginny, Aunt Margaret, Aunt Maggie, Aunt Doris, Aunt Myrtle, Aunt Effie, Aunt Irene, Aunt Hester, Aunt Tharon, Aunt Adele, and Aunt Aldena.

When I was a teenager spending time around them, I thought they would all live forever.  Now, there is only one left and I love her dearly.

I was blessed growing up in the family I did.  It was a village, led by those who loved me like I was their own.  I really hope I show that kind of love to my nieces and nephews.

If you still have your aunts and uncles, call them, send a note, go see them.  Tell them how much you love them.

Till next time, be nice to each other.