Super Heroines: My Aunts . . . . . by D. Kitchel

I will start with the oldest first. Opal was 15 years older than my mother. Married and out of the house before my mom could remember her living there, yet even though she met and married a man on the other side of the state, she was home every chance she got.

She was tall and looked most like my grandmother - tall and lanky with soft brown eyes and snow white hair. She had children of her own and I had a bundle of cousins, but my aunt Opal never forgot a birthday and always sent a card with a little cash inside.

Opal made me feel like I was the only niece she had, when in fact she had many. She made a shy little girl feel special and for that she is my heroine.

My "Auntee Austree" had a son, but no daughters. She married a dashing young man named William and never left town.

Austree was the timid one in the family. She watched her health and lived on a farm, drank goats milk and put in a huge garden every year. She was into organic before it was fashionable and believed in the power of green tea and took "secret treatments" at a local spa.

Why was she a hero? Because when I wanted to have a home birth, my family was up in arms! What if something "bad" were to happen? I heard from practically everyone in the family. There was an all out assault against our decision. My family would actually call me up daily to tell me to go to the hospital or my baby would probably die!

Aunt Austree was the only person to stand up for me. She reminded every one of them, that all but one of them were born at home and she told them to stop telling me scare stories.

For that she will forever be my hero.

By the way, my beautiful daughter was born at home, delivered by her father and perfect in every way.

My aunt Nonie was smart. My mom said she was always the smartest one in the family and I never saw her without a crossword puzzle or a book. She had this funny habit of crunching on ice. She would freeze thin layers of ice and "snack" on it - and she made the absolute best blackberry cobbler ever baked in an oven!

Nonie was also a saver - which leads me to why she is my hero. When I was newly married and wanting to buy a house, my aunt offered to loan me the down payment. Very nice, but hero material? No.

But here's the thing - I still remember her saying - "How much do you need, honey?" and pulling out her flour drawer, and there, packed behind the flour were bundles and bundles of rolled bills. She pulled one out and counted off $3,000, rolled it back up, snapped the rubber band back on and stuffed it back behind the flour. I was totally amazed, but couldn't accept her offer.

Yet, that day she became my hero. I wanted rolls of bills, just like hers. I wanted to be able to give money without having to think about it. I wanted to be smart, like my Aunt Nonie.

My mother was the next one to enter the family line.

I know everyone says, "My mother was the best mom in the world".

But SERIOUSLY - MY mom was the BEST mom in the world!

She was my best friend. She spoiled me, taught me, never-ever spanked me and together with my father, made my childhood magical and idyllic.

There is a hole in my heart - left when they passed, but a bigger heart because they were here.

But - this isn't about my mom and dad...this is about my aunts....so on I go.

I called her my "Crazy Aunt Donna" - not because of any mental instability, but because of all my aunts, she was the most creative, artistic and fun to be around. She was the one who would think up zany summer activities and who let us have a rock band in her basement. (She also drank a lot of beer and could swear like a trucker).

She was a challenge to her children, but as an aunt - she was amazing. It was like having my own private "Auntie Mame".

Why is she my hero? Because she didn't care what people thought. She did her own thing - with flare. She taught me to enjoy my creative side; that there are times to just say "what the hell" and she made me feel like I was her favorite niece...I was, wasn't I?

That is the beautiful lady in the opening photo. The youngest of the girls and the youngest in the family. She was as all the youngest are...spoiled rotten. She actually taught me what not to be. Don't be selfish - others have to pick up your pieces. Don't be indecisive - it drives everyone crazy. Don't be manipulative - it will backfire. Don't marry too often, but just enough to get it right.

All that said. My aunt offered her home to me when I had none and always greets me with warm and genuine gladness that I have come to visit her. She has smoked cigarettes her entire life with no ill effects and lived alone since her husbands passing, in her own home until she was over 90 years old.

Why is she a hero? Because she taught me that people aren't perfect. That you can make mistakes. That you can fail and pick yourself up to try again. That eveyone needs a helping hand now and then. That your family will love you no matter what.

As a group, my aunts were my own personal cheering squad. When I had my first dance recital, they were all there. When I had my piano recitals, they were there. Every school play, choral presentation, girl scout ceremony, I would dutifully march to my assigned position and look into the audience and see the smiling faces of my aunts. Didn't they have anything better to do than show up at a 3rd grade presentation of the First Thanksgiving?

Of course they did. My Aunt Opal ran a sugar beet farm, My Aunt Austria was a telephone operator (when they had plugs and wires), my Aunt Nonie worked at the hospital, my mother was a beautician, my Aunt Dawn worked in a children's retail clothing store.

Yet they believed in family first. So, there they were - again.

As a child it was amazing. As an adult even more so.

It never stopped. When my children were born, the aunts were there to ooo and ahhh. When I bought a house, they were there to ooo and ahhh. When I got a new car they had to check it out.

They always showed up together. They reminded me of a clutch of hens clucking and cooing at each milestone in my life.

How did it make me feel? Like a princess - engulfed in unconditional love and support. They made me feel important. They made me feel like I could do anything. They made me want to do my best - for me AND for them. I never wanted to see disappointment in those eyes.

Family First. Friends are wonderful, but family first. Even distant family. Family always first. It is a lesson I'll never forget.

My aunts were amazed by the Women's Liberation Movement.

I would hear them talk about it. They had always considered themselves equal to men. They had had careers. They had raised families - they'd done whatever they wanted. Their mother had been the same way and her mother before her. You can't be oppressed if you don't give it any energy.

Hmmm...Strong women. Smart women. Healthy women. Creative women. Loving women. Imperfect women. They were my role models. They were my inspiration. They were my heros.

Oh - and my uncles? One was adventurous, one was psychic, and one was gay....we'll leave those stories for another time.