This is a familiar story for those of us who wish we’d asked more questions when the people who could have answered them were still with us. Beautifully written. And a perfect ending…
Your story is exactly why many of us have started to write our memoir stories, initially perhaps to create a record for our children but later on , to create a memory for ourselves, to resurrect all those lives in the sepia and black and white photos in our dusty boxes.
What our families didn't talk about. Aunt Edna is a haunting figure. And yet, I have to wonder if she didn't want her own end-of-life decision honored as part of who she was: independent. That a woman had no children and never married may have been her choice and not a curse. May her memory be a blessing.
When I was a pastor, I conducted many funerals. It made me realize the importance of making amends when possible and prioritizing quality time with loved ones over everything else.
This is indeed a sorrowful story. But to me, your sharing of the story with us does honour your Aunt Edna, and brings her out of the shadows. It's an important reminder to us to try to pay more attention to those quiet and less known people in our family, and to learn about them when we can. Thank you.
Thanks for this moving piece that helps us reflect on what stories we don't know even about those close to us, and why that might be. And I appreciated the image of the apple peeling: my late father always tried to keep the spiral whole. Stella's image is lovely and evoked my childhood memories.
What a lovely piece. And how all that shame and fear of talking of sad things may have kept you from understanding her, and your father, better. You inspire me to undertake the job of family history, which I have been putting off. Happy Memorial Day.
Thank you for this look at what was lost and not considered in Edna. My life is full of those scenarios as well~no one wanted to talk about being a refugee, escaping a pogrom in Europe, living in dire poverty in NYC. Ancestors had no traction in our household, plus my mother was adopted and did not want to know from whom or where.
WE are all here now because of who died before us. Too bad the Stories are not valued.
I was twelve and sitting at a long table with my great-grandmother, Hazel Pearl (Roberts) Reynolds at one of our Roberts family reunions. Over 350 people were there and I wanted to know who all the kids belonged to and how I was related to them.
Nana sketched out the family tree on a yellow legal pad and that was it. I was hooked.
I'm now considered the family genealogist and I even had, at one point, a blog online where I researched some of the people and wrote out their stories based on prompts from Amy Johnson Crow. (https://kessgen.wordpress.com)
Yes, I like getting the dates and names and facts all straight - but I'm mostly in it for the stories. Why did they move to a different country? How many children did they lose in the flu epidemic and having lost a child myself - how did they go on afterwards?
Women who were brilliant and defiant in a time that marked that behavior as witchcraft fascinate me.
So glad to read this story which reminded me of my Aunt Bertha. Like your Aunt Edna, she was "around" but never known. She had no children and for some reason, she was called "Aunt Bertha Busybody" although I can't think of one "busy" thing she did. And now, anyone who could tell me is gone. With the help of my sisters, you have prompted me to gather info and write up little profiles of some of my aunts and uncles who died before I know it was important to keep their stories.
Moving, specific--especially love the line about porridge because it defines what little was known with that phrase. That's its power!
I don't say enough how good this generous, shared-story Substack is!
This is a familiar story for those of us who wish we’d asked more questions when the people who could have answered them were still with us. Beautifully written. And a perfect ending…
What a lovely tribute for Edna! Your essay reminds me how important and unifying compassion and love truly are🙏
Thank you so much Rita - what a lovely comment, which I really appreciate.
Your story is exactly why many of us have started to write our memoir stories, initially perhaps to create a record for our children but later on , to create a memory for ourselves, to resurrect all those lives in the sepia and black and white photos in our dusty boxes.
Exactly!
Thank you Judy - and yes, exactly, one of the reasons we write.
Yes to asking questions and writing the stories before they are lost. Thanks for this reminder Joy.
Thank you Adair
What our families didn't talk about. Aunt Edna is a haunting figure. And yet, I have to wonder if she didn't want her own end-of-life decision honored as part of who she was: independent. That a woman had no children and never married may have been her choice and not a curse. May her memory be a blessing.
Thank you Jill
A beautifully-written piece, Joy! So glad to see it published and resonating for so many readers.
Thanks so much Margaret.
When I was a pastor, I conducted many funerals. It made me realize the importance of making amends when possible and prioritizing quality time with loved ones over everything else.
Thank you Wendi.
This is indeed a sorrowful story. But to me, your sharing of the story with us does honour your Aunt Edna, and brings her out of the shadows. It's an important reminder to us to try to pay more attention to those quiet and less known people in our family, and to learn about them when we can. Thank you.
Thank you Lin, for these comments. I really appreciate them.
Thanks for this moving piece that helps us reflect on what stories we don't know even about those close to us, and why that might be. And I appreciated the image of the apple peeling: my late father always tried to keep the spiral whole. Stella's image is lovely and evoked my childhood memories.
Wasn't that a lovely image? Thank you Sari.
I am moved by your description and questions. thank you
Thank you Nancy, for reading it.
What a lovely piece. And how all that shame and fear of talking of sad things may have kept you from understanding her, and your father, better. You inspire me to undertake the job of family history, which I have been putting off. Happy Memorial Day.
Thank you so much Ellen.
Thank you for this look at what was lost and not considered in Edna. My life is full of those scenarios as well~no one wanted to talk about being a refugee, escaping a pogrom in Europe, living in dire poverty in NYC. Ancestors had no traction in our household, plus my mother was adopted and did not want to know from whom or where.
WE are all here now because of who died before us. Too bad the Stories are not valued.
Thank you for this Susan - it is a loss - the untold stories we should know.
I was twelve and sitting at a long table with my great-grandmother, Hazel Pearl (Roberts) Reynolds at one of our Roberts family reunions. Over 350 people were there and I wanted to know who all the kids belonged to and how I was related to them.
Nana sketched out the family tree on a yellow legal pad and that was it. I was hooked.
I'm now considered the family genealogist and I even had, at one point, a blog online where I researched some of the people and wrote out their stories based on prompts from Amy Johnson Crow. (https://kessgen.wordpress.com)
Yes, I like getting the dates and names and facts all straight - but I'm mostly in it for the stories. Why did they move to a different country? How many children did they lose in the flu epidemic and having lost a child myself - how did they go on afterwards?
Women who were brilliant and defiant in a time that marked that behavior as witchcraft fascinate me.
So many stories!
They are fascinating! Thank you and all the best for your fact gathering.
Gorgeous writing.
Thank you.
So glad to read this story which reminded me of my Aunt Bertha. Like your Aunt Edna, she was "around" but never known. She had no children and for some reason, she was called "Aunt Bertha Busybody" although I can't think of one "busy" thing she did. And now, anyone who could tell me is gone. With the help of my sisters, you have prompted me to gather info and write up little profiles of some of my aunts and uncles who died before I know it was important to keep their stories.
Thank you Janet. I'm so glad this has prompted you.