This morning the mailman brought me a package containing my Aunt Lizzie's dishes. Aunt Lizzie was actually my grandfather's aunt. I was lucky to have a multi-generational family for most of my life. Aunt Lizzie actually died in the mid 1960's, when I was still a teenager. At the time, I was a JW (not to mention a teenager), and, to my discredit, took her death as a matter of course, considering her to be ancient at the time of her death. After Lizzie died, Joe lived on for quite a few years.
When I was very small, I lived with my grandparents on a small farm. We left the farm and moved in with my grandfather's Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Joe some time before I started school. My grandparents were a big help to their elderly relatives who had no children of their own. Uncle Joe would take me to school every morning and wait and watch as I walked across the school yard and up two long flights of steps before he went back home.
My grandparents lived with Uncle Joe until he died in the late 1970's. I was still a JW but attended Joe's funeral (in a church!) anyway.
My grandparents inherited what Joe had. They gave the house, which had been paid off for many years, to my sister, who mortgaged it, gambled away the money, moved to another state, and ended up with nothing to show for it. The good part is that my nieces had a home while they were in elementary and high school.
I was given some of Aunt Lizzie's kitchen items, but these were missing after I left my JW husband and went back to collect my personal belongings. I believe his JW girlfriend took them because she is the only one who would have had access to them. But that is another story.
Anyway, I am grateful that my mother kept the set of dishes and I now have them. I wish I could tell Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Joe that I'm sorry for my cult-induced insensitivity to them when I could have been a source of comfort and help.
"Shower the people you love with love." - James Taylor
Happy New Year!
SandraC