She has been gone these twenty years but I remember her like it was yesterday. My “Auntie Mame,” Aunt Mary. She was the oldest of ten, in my father’s family. She could be a real bitch on wheels but had a soft spot for us kids.
She always invited me for the summer, she had a daughter my junior by two years and we were like sisters. We had the same first name and the same tendency to burn like bacon in the sun, we could play for hours with no problems. I remember one particular summer the most.
We, my cousin and I, I was about ten, had been burning up while cleaning up the back yard and came in all hot and sweaty, dry as old bones. We opened the fridge to see what was in there and saw this glass pitcher with lemon slices floating in it. Wonder of wonders! Ice cold Lemon Ade! We thought. A gift from my Aunt for all our hard work.
We each poured a big glass and each took a really big swallow and immediately up chucked! Turns out it was a pitcher of Gin Martini's! We were still feeling icky when my Aunt got home from work and politely declined dinner. Our Grand Mother, who lived downstairs, tore her a new one.
She was quite the character. She chased our Uncle Bill down the street with a forty-five when she got pregnant again. OK, not Auntie Mame but Auntie Nut Case! Actually putting it down in words lets me ask ...Why did my parents think she was the kind of person to leave their children with ... Ewwww. Oh, the nostalgia of the perfect fifties. Duh!
Scarier ... the whole family were nut jobs and I had them all for sitters. Am I normal? I don't even think about it any more. At sixty-one years of age I prefer to think to think of myself a work in progress! Hopefully better then the last generation, without a warranty.
I have one child. He is a pretty good person. Married, responsible, employed and stable. Most be his fathers genes!