IMPORTANT NOTE:  I am writing a series of biographies of my mother’s siblings.  I inadvertently turned two pages and missed one very important aunt’s biography.  Since the mistake was not realized until I had already published this blog I choose to wait until my next blog to write about my beloved Aunt Mary Hattie Bell.  I want to have time to allow my memories of her to be fresh and vibrant on the day when I dedicate my day to writing about her.  Please forgive me for this oversight.  Also, please note that there is another important note at the end of this blog for all my faithful readers.

Sunday Sabbath  July 31 2016  THE HEARTBREAK OF LOVE

Perhaps the most difficult part of loving someone so deeply is being left behind if they die first.  That to me is the greatest heartbreak of love.  I can still remember the first experience I had when someone I knew died.  I was just a child and it was quite difficult for me to understand and grasp the finality of the meaning that they were never coming back.  Since that time decades ago I have experienced the loss of many family members; parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, who have gone before me.  I’ve also experienced the loss of close special friends, acquaintances, church members, neighbors, as well as some of my extended family members.  People die.  I know that.  I understand that.  But it still hurts.  And sometimes the pain seems to go deeper than you can bear. 

I have family members who have outlived all their children, several spouses, and somehow they keep on keeping on.  I may go deeper into that topic at a later date.  Today I will focus on two people who had a profound impact on my life.  I don’t even think my extended family really understand just how much.  It all began many years ago when my grandmother went into early labor due to the loss of another child, and delivered a tiny baby girl before her time.  From the stories I have been told (and I am always open for corrections) little Vera Estelline (who was known to me as “Aunt Estell”) was born prematurely due to the traumatic stress my grandmother went through when her daughter Ora Helen died.  Vera Estelline was tiny and kept in a small box close to (or under) the cook stove (which was probably a woodstove).  I know little else about her condition except that I always heard it was a miracle she survived.

Her survival changed my life.  First of all she married a man that I looked up to like a father.  He scared me to death when I was a young child but over the years I grew to love and respect him deeply.  I overheard him giving my mother, his wife’s sister, wise advice on many occasions (pertaining to my errant ways as a teen) when I was supposed to be sleeping.  Just knowing he helped my mother get over some rough spots in her life gave me a new love and respect for him as I grew older.  My father was dead and I guess I wasn’t so easy to live with as I had many problems and hang-ups due to past experiences.  The older I became the closer I grew to my Uncle “HARCE” (his name was spelled “HORACE” but rhymed with FARCE).  I think I could write a book about Uncle Harce in regards to how many lives he influenced and helped throughout his life.  It was a proud day for me when he walked me down the aisle when I married Dave over 43 years ago. 

My Aunt Estell provided me with two very special cousins, one a few months older than me, the next a little more than a year younger.  My favorite days of summer were spent under her roof.  Aunt Estell was good to me.  And when I ate there I relished the delectable treat of RICE-A-RONI.  I also got in trouble a few times but I won’t bore you with the details.

I was so proud to be taller than my aunt by about age 10.  I kept growing taller and she just stayed short.  And I loved every short inch of her.  But she was tall in stature.  In my eyes she could do anything.  She truly was one of the most creative people I have ever known.  She was generous, kind, always busy, and certainly knew how to keep us kids busy.  And, she let us play between her clean sheets flapping in the wind hanging on the clothesline.  Well, maybe she didn’t really let us but we did it anyway.  My memories of her as an adult were just as great.  I always felt like I had a home to go to.  My mother had never owned a home and lived a rather nomadic life in her later years, living with, and taking care of older people, until it was she who needed care. 

When my Aunt Estell died it was like losing a mother.  I grieved deeply when my own mother died, but I truly believe I grieved just as much when Aunt Estell went to heaven.  Our children loved Aunt Estell like a grandmother.  When Courtland, our son, was a toddler he called her grandma.  Aunt Estell corrected him and told him she was his aunt.  Well from that point on Courtland called her “Aunt Grandma” and no further discussion could change his mind.  Her voice sounded just like my mother’s.  That’s all that counted.

I was not available to attend my aunt and Uncle’s funerals due to working under contract.  When I was in California in 2010 I drove about 4 or 5 hours round trip to visit both her and her Uncle Harce’s gravesite.  They were buried in Clear Lake California where they lived their retirement years.  I sat at the graveside, remembered them with love, and wrote the poem for the reunion while I sat in that peaceful cemetery.  I knew they were no longer there.  Their spirits were long gone to their reward in heaven, but I sat there and cried, just as I do now as I write these words.  Why do I cry so many years later?  After all, I now am an older lady and I understand that the end of life looms ahead for all of us, some, sooner than others. Perhaps I cry just because so much love still whelms up within me and the only way it spills out is through my tears.  I miss them but I know I will see them again someday.  Actually, someday we family members will all have a great big family reunion in heaven, perhaps even with you if you are planning to go there too. 

Below is the continuing saga of short biographies shared at our 2011 Family reunion.  I will also include the poem I wrote to honor Aunt Estell as I sat by her headstone.

Biography written 2011

VERA ESTELLINE  (AUNT ESTELL)

“Aunt Estell was just Aunt Estell.  There was never any pretense or putting on airs.  Petite in stature, but a woman of tall integrity.  She was strong and true in her relationships with her family and her relationship with God.  God’s gift to our family was the man she married.  Between the two of them they helped more people step over the threshold to adulthood and self sufficiency than can be counted.  She and Uncle Horace were the first to move to California from Arkansas, and for those who followed, they were like the stopping off place in a foreign land.

Estell weathered her own storms of life, sometimes alone.  She had a young daughter when her husband was shipped overseas in World War II.  He was gone for over two years.  During the time her husband was overseas she gave birth to their firstborn son Fort.  After her husband returned home from the war she later gave birth to their second son who died as a toddler due to diphtheria.  After giving birth to two more daughters, the family sponsored a 4 year old foster daughter who became another cousin to us.  She is still part of the family.  This speaks volumes for the fortitude her family has.  They truly helped so many people do something better with their lives.

Hospitality was Estell’s trademark.  It was her gift.  She was very giving in all things and above all else she was kind.  She would stand up for others, all 4 feet plus of her    She was always busy.  She was gifted in quilting, sewing, cooking, gardening, needlepoint, artwork, knitting and loving.  Going to her house to spend the weeks during summer vacation was the highlight of my existence.  She was generous, hardworking and never gave up.” 

As Estell aged disease took its toll. I once asked Nora, Estell’s daughter, if it was difficult to go and visit with her since her mom didn’t know her anymore due to Alzheimer’s.  Nora said, “No, it is not, for you see we still know who she is.”   Aunt Estell went to be with the Lord in 2006.  We will always miss you Aunt Estell.  We miss you too Uncle Harce. (Uncle Harce met his maker in 1999).

One thing I would like to add.  Nora later told me that she put two knitting needles and some knitting in her mother’s hands as she lay in her casket.  Nora said she had never seen her mother’s hands idle and they didn’t look natural in that state.  Come to think of it, my kids will probably put a keyboard under my idle hands.

Here is the poem I wrote as I sat by her gravestone.  It was read at the Family Reunion.

 

VERA ESTELLINE

UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

By Kathleen Martens

March 3, 2011

 

My tears flow for the ones I love,

No longer with me but up above.

Never a chance to say goodbye,

But cherished memories in graves never lie.

 

Memories of childhood flood my thoughts,

Special times my heart has caught.

Backyard, and cousins, and sheets in the breeze,

Those long ago adventures my memories seize.

 

An uncle to love, my father replaced.

Words of wisdom spoken with grace.

Our walk down the aisle, he gave me away.

The honor was mine I always say.

 

A place to stay, food to eat,

He gave from His heart, needs to meet.

I was but one of the many fold

That he ushered over life’s threshold.

 

And my dear aunt now in death lies

By the husband she cherished with eternal ties.

None other like her—kindness so pure,

Life not always easy—but she endured.

 

A small little woman who loved everyone,

And to this niece was always so fun.

As I grew up she opened home and heart,

And being with her felt like a new start.

 

She cooked and baked, put fresh linins on bed,

Tirelessly worked and forged ahead.

Her talents many, as she knitted and sewed.

Art by needle, on her walls she stowed.

 

Amazing creations of one of a kind quilts,

And flowers and gardens up to the hilt.

Planting and harvesting, they grew their food,

Through rain and sunshine—regardless the mood.

 

But time took its toll as they loved one another,

And eventually life, by death was smothered.

But for them, death has no sting,

For together in heaven they now sing.

 

Today I kneel at their grave

To say goodbye, to the two so brave.

Thank you for being so wonderful to me,

And with you in heaven, eventually I’ll be.

 

And until then I’ll cherish the pleasures

That you gave unselfishly, all without measure.

I’m a better person because of you,

In my journey of life, you helped me through.

 

Today’s poem below encompasses my THANK YOU(S) TO GOD

 

LIFE GOES ON

Dedicated to Aunt Estell and Uncle Harce

By Kathleen Martens

July 31, 2016

 

Thank You Father

For all the people in the past

Who poured into me

That which would last.

 

Thank You for the love

That was extended in my direction

And that when I was a child

Others gave me correction.

 

Thank You Lord

For those who loved me,

And walked through difficult times

So I could be freed.

 

Thank You for Aunts

And for those they married.

Who reached out and loved,

Though times were harried.

 

Thank You Lord for family

That extends beyond the home,

Because it always appears

We need other places to roam.

 

And thank You Father

For this time of reflection,

So that with my past

I can express my affection.

 

NOTE:

I thank my readers who are walking with me through these recollections.  May you be inspired to take time to reflect and allow your heart to remember and feel the treasures you have tucked into your bank of memories.  Even as old as I am I believe I still have lessons to learn from the people who were such an important part of my past. 

IMPORTANT NOTICE:

Due to events that are taking place this coming week, which will keep me fully occupied, I will not be publishing my blog again until Monday August 8, 2016.  I will then continue with this series.

 

GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS YOU