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Remembering Aunt Lenora


At Christmastime, I usually think back to my childhood when things were not only simpler but they were also a bit more entertaining, in the sense that there were some great stories handed down to us kids throughout the holidays.

Aunts and Uncles used to come to our big holiday dinners, bringing presents and casseroles and pies, cakes and other goodies that we kids enjoyed.

My Aunt Lenora, who baked the best chocolate brownies when I was a kid, always brought something for us in the way of a toy whenever she came to visit. She often came on weekends, as she loved kids and Mom told me that she had lost a baby when she was younger, that the doctor had broken its neck while delivering it. She never had a child or even tried after that. Her nieces and nephews were, in a sense, her children.

Whenever she would visit, I would watch for her to get off the city bus at the corner or out of a cab in front of our house and she always had a shopping bag with something for everyone. She bought me a lot, of stuffed animals over the years because she knew I preferred them to dolls. Once, she brought me a tea set. Despite the fact that she made little money, she always thought of us...generous to a near fault was my Aunt Lenora.

I remember when we visited her, there were always cookies or some sort of sweet breads to snack on along with milk or hot cocoa; she, like her sisters and those before her, was a baker from the old school. A tin of sugary treats were always waiting at her apartment when we stopped in for a visit.

She was a small woman, so small that she literally bought her clothing in the teen’s department. She was right at five foot and probably weighted about ninety-five pounds throughout her whole life.

I remember Mom and me visiting the soda fountain where she and one other of my Mom’s sisters, both worked as Waitresses, downtown. Back in the early 1960’s they called women, Waitresses, now I think they’re called servers, to be politically correct.

I would walk from my school down to my Mom’s office and then we’d go have a snack or something to drink at the fountain while we waited the the city bus to take us home.

Sometimes, if Mom got off a bit early, we’d have a late lunch, she’d buy me a hot dog and some French fries, maybe a milkshake or a coke. It didn’t spoil my supper because by the time Dad got home, I sure was hungry again.

My Aunt Lenora seemed to know when we were coming because there were always cookies, cake or something available at the fountain that a kid could enjoy. Sometimes she had a milkshake ready as soon as we entered.

I recall being older and walking to the shopping center with her or to the stores, as a teenager, she came to my earlobes and even though I’m no giant, I felt so tall next to her.

During the holidays, she’d decorate her apartment with what little she had to spend after living expenses. I remember a table with a large piece of driftwood that she would decorate for the seasons. Tiny ivy and flowers in spring and summer; in the fall, she found tiny colored oak leaves and small birds would be perched there; some of these seemed so realistic to me as a child. At Christmastime, she hung tiny bits of holly and mistletoe there along with miniature ornaments.

All around that driftwood and on shelves, she had family photographs; many were of her nieces and nephews. Her apartment was always warm and inviting and decorated in the most cheerful of ways.

I also remember her marvelous artwork; she crocheted, tatted and made the most delicate doilies and such. All with what seemed to be the tiniest thread. I remember watching with amazement and wondering how she could possibly see what she was doing; she made the most delicate and beautiful things.

She worked her whole life on her feet, hard work too. Not just in the fountain but at a local Woolworth’s store. It took its toll on her health too because, in her later years she had to have part of one of her legs removed. For some reason the surgeon didn’t finish her stump right and she couldn’t be fitted with a prosthetic because of it.

Later, my Mom and Dad brought her to live with us. I remember watching her get around and wondering how she managed to do what she did with one leg and that walker. She could bend over on that walker and actually pick up something that had fallen on the floor. What balance! She would not be defeated no matter whatever life threw at her.

She was quite an inspiration, a marvel in her own right and one of my favorite relatives. So now, I think of her quite often but especially the holidays. She never failed to spread the cheer. In many ways, she was a real wonder. I especially think of her around the holidays; I will always remember her fondly.

Written 12-22-19

Copyright, 2019, M.L. Kiser


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Book: Shattered Sighs