I suppose the love I have for my aunt started shortly after I was born. She was only eleven and I was probably like a doll to her albeit a living one. My first clear memory of Emma was her and a friend walking to high school with me tagging along. I thought she was just perfect and was very excited to be going to school with her.
She is an extremely quiet, private person who lives her life by a code known only to her. I see her life as one of adventure since she was the first of her family to leave home before being married as well as the first to graduate from high school. She was determined that she would graduate and not be pulled out of school like her sisters. She took that degree and moved to Washington, DC, where she worked providing her own money and determining her own fate. That must have been fairly unheard of at that time, if not in the nation, certainly in our small town. Her marriage and four children gave her a lot of satisfaction I’m sure. I vaguely remember the joy in the family when she had twins. She was the talk of the town so to speak.
She has lived with me and my family a lot over the past years and is with me now. I love having her around; we are a perfect fit. I give her her own space and she gives me mine. She will talk, but only when necessary, so, it’s a very quiet household. I admire that she is never idle keeping busy with all her projects. In fact, she prefers to have a job and, even now, is waiting on a call for one. Each year, she takes a trip for several months, usually to visit her family, driving hundreds of miles solo.
While stationed in Germany after World War II, my uncle bought two small, pendulum brass clocks that once belonged to our respective mothers. We both inherited the clocks and cared for them over the years; however, they were now showing their wear and tear. Plus, the glass dome covering for mine broke years ago and I could never find a replacement. Our goal for this week is to get those clocks repaired and working once again. Emma found a repairman for these vintage clocks a year ago or so, but we were never able to get them delivered to him.
On Friday, we returned to a thrift store to see what they had as a part of our “discover Jackson” plan. They reminded us that Saturday they would have a 50% sale. Emma asked if they needed plastic grocery bags and was happy to hear a yes. (We are constantly looking for places to recycle grocery bags.) On Saturday, she gathered the bags and left. Later, I heard Emma return and, eventually, went out to see her. Imagine my surprise when I saw my clock with a glass dome. She had seen a plastic replica clock with a glass dome cover on Friday and gone back to buy it at half off on Saturday. I was thrilled to get the dome and even happier that it only cost 75 cents. She had never mentioned it and I hadn’t seen the clock. That short story explains Emma better than I ever could.