Aunt Esther

The person for whom I am named. My Mother's brother's wife. A hard working woman who bore one set of twins, managed an elegant ranch style home, ran the office for her husband's business, and still managed to entertain her niece from time to time.

I was afraid of Aunt Esther when I was growing up. She didn't mince words. If she thought you needed to be told something, she told you, without the window dressing of concern for your feelings.

Once when I was staying at Gram Appleby's, I got to spend the afternoon at Aunt Esther's, muddling around with my cousins, Art and Charley. Gram called at noon to make sure I got lunch. Aunt Esther often worked straight through lunch. I ended up going to the Altamont Fair with them that night, and Esther sewed up a pair of dress slacks so I would have something decent to wear.

I didn't often get a chance to go to a fair. What fun we had looking at the chickens, the sheep, the horses, the cows. We wandered through the produce tent gawking at all the amazing vegetables, fruits, preserves, pickles, and pies. We saw the displays hawking tractors and farm implements. She even bought me a cone of cotton candy! It was such a marvelous evening. I hadn't thought my aunt interested in hauling me around at a fair, much less seeing to it that I didn't step in anything objectionable, if you know what I mean.

In later years, I came to know her as my supervisor when I helped out one summer in their office. She was particular and careful with details, not given to either stinginess nor excessive generosity. Her back yard was a fabulous sanctuary of flowering grace and wildlife encouraged by her provision of appropriate food sources. She even shared her knitting skills with me, showing me how to knit my first pair of mittens.

Today, after years of suffering with Alzheimer's disease, Aunt Esther passed away. Her husband struggled to provide the care she needed despite her lack of cooperation. She had withered away and become less and less able to function, confined to bed, uninterested in eating. Grief tempered with relief. Yet she leaves a hole in the fabric of our family. She is the first of the parent sets to lose her battle with age, to travel beyond the Jordan, to meet her maker. There is no replacing Esther's stalwart strength and solid dependability.

I will miss her bold remarks, her voiced opinions, her assurance that she knew the way to do something or another. I will miss her enjoyment of nature, her encouragement of intersection between wilderness and domesticity. I will miss her tiny careful stitching of knitted things, her unquestioning support of her husband's life endeavors, her crooked smile, the timbre of her voice. And I will carry with me always the impact she had on my life, the changes in perception I learned from her, the influences gleaned from her style, her gifts, her person. I thank her for being her, and I pray she has found the peace that passes all understanding.