Never Were There Such Devoted Sisters

I have written before about my Aunt Elaine. I should say, my Great Aunt Elaine. The most fascinating thing about my relationship her has been that she is a child psychologist who knew me as a child. Not only that, she knew my parents and their disciplining styles, and added to that, I am currently gaining a similar perspective on childhood. So our discussions have usually revolved around that, and it is interesting to hear her perspective on it (siblings, you may want to ask some time, but I won’t post that kind of stuff here.) She tells fabulous stories of how close she was to my mom and her siblings as well as to me. I remember her babysitting us, I remember falling off a big kitchen stool once and bumping my head and she held me. And she remembers it too. And she remembers the kinds of trouble we got into and she remembers that we were some of the best-behaved children on the planet. Ok, well, our memories may not always be accurate. Clearly she wasn’t around for the “let’s-see-if-the-baby-fits-down-the-laundry-chute” experiment (sorry Amy!), nor did she happen upon us in a spirited game of hide-and-seek in which somehow the dryer got turned on with the toddler inside (Oops, Jessica hasn’t been the same since). She probably did hear the tape recording of the kindergartener screaming “Stop smiling at me!” but that was actually hilarious, especially if you only heard the recording and you weren’t present for the actual tormenting that led up to it…(so maybe Melissa merits an apology for that one, from Aaron.) And she never would have permitted the pickle-juice-in-the-baby’s-bottle, but by then I was old enough to be expected to not participate in that one. (Besides, Emma loves pickles.)

And I am keeping my mouth shut about these incidents with Aunt Elaine, because I want at least one person at the final judgment who testifies that I was a bona fide angel.

So last night was a fascinating experience with Aunt Elaine. She lives in the same building as her sister Maurine, they got condos together here about 5 years ago so that Maurine could be closer to family. Elaine is the spinstress, and she tagged along. Elaine left the church years and years ago, Maurine has a life of children and grandchildren and great grandchildren in the church. But Maurine is now confined to a wheelchair and Elaine, feisty as ever, goes over to her apartment every day to help her get up and get dressed and into the chair for the day. They are both the tiniest women you ever did see, and it would be impossible to picture Elaine lifting anyone into a chair, except Maurine. I have been able to go out to eat with Elaine several times since getting here, but last night was my first opportunity to visit with Maurine. Elaine always tells me how grumpy Maurine is and informs me that Maurine needs a guest to “perform for” otherwise she is unbearable. Elaine insists that we go out to eat alone, even though I offer to bring Maurine along, and I accept that since it probably is rough for Maurine to go out, and Elaine probably does need a little space. Well, Maurine called me a week or so ago. She called because she is going to be moving into an assisted living center and she is trying to get rid of her stuff. She wants me to have some paintings that my grandmother painted and some of her kitchen stuff. She asked me to come over for a visit and I went last night. Elaine was there too, and we had a nice chat. We talked about the massive amounts of children in the family, and they were extremely thrilled to share with me my cousin’s wedding announcement. They raved over how lovely everything was, and asked if their brother (my grandfather) was going to be in Utah for one of the receptions. And then Maurine insisted that Elaine go to the reception, and Elaine insisted that she not, and excused herself to go back to her place for something she forgot. As soon as she was gone, Maurine said “She is just so grumpy nowadays. She has to have someone to perform for, or else she is impossible to talk to!” And I laughed on the inside. I wonder how I will perceive my sisters after 86 years of being sisters? I wonder if my brother will be the super-hero that their brother is to them? I wonder if I will be the bitter spinstress who attaches herself to nieces and nephews and great nieces and nephews? I wondered a lot of things, and then Elaine came back and for the rest of the evening I watched them. I watched how their facial expressions would sour a little when the other contradicted them. I watched how they would argue oh so quietly and subtly over silly facts, memories, or family secrets. I watched how when I would talk, they would listen and agree with everything I said unless their sister had already agreed to it, and I watched how they would quickly change their spots and agree with their sister if I was so bold as to take sides in an argument. I thought at one point that they would come to blows over the temperature in the room. I listened as they talked about their lives, and what I heard was their different perspectives born of different life experiences. I heard them disagree on so much emotionally, even when the facts were the same, and I heard them agree on one point, the loneliness that they both feel from time to time, more often now, and daily increasing. I learned from the things they left unsaid, about regrets and unfulfilled dreams and fulfilled dreams and successes. And at the end of the night, when I said it was time for me to leave, and Elaine offered to walk me out, she had me wait for a moment while she went in and turned down Maurine’s bed, and laid out her nightgown, and made sure she had taken her meds and got her a glass of water.

And I thought, “Actions speak louder than words.”