Sunday, January 28, 2018

Thank you, Aunt Ida!

She was almost 92 years old.  Her life was over now and we were gathered together to remember her and celebrate the difference she had made in our lives.  I was asked to share some memories of this aunt.  Because we had not lived in the same community after I had left home for college my memories were mostly of her during my childhood and youth.

I spoke about her delight in bringing humor to our lives by the funny readings or poems she would regale us with in her PA Dutch accent.  Many reunions or other family events featured Aunt Ida playing a trick on someone with a game she asked us to play.  For instance, she'd pick out five or six of us to stand in a row.  She'd let us in on the "punchline" and how to participate and then she'd choose the one she wanted to fool to come up and meet us, The Fly Family.  He/she would be asked to shake hands with each of us, while Aunt Ida made the introductions.  "Meet Papa Fly, Mama Fly, Brother Fly, Sister Fly"-the family could be small or large depending on how long Ida wanted to drag this out. The last family member in line was always named "Ler Her Fly".  Of course, this last introduction included not just a handshake but a burst of water in the face, from the small glass in Let Her Fly's other hand that had been hidden behind her back. (Where have all those trickster games gone to?  They were very interactive and entertaining for the participants as well as the audience).
It was interesting to hear from others at the funeral, how even in Ida's senior years, she'd taken on the role of  "bus trip entertainer" with her stories and poems.

This aunt never missed sharing a gift on our birthdays and Christmas. As kids, we treasured her yard sale finds, not knowing until years later that receiving partially used coloring books or toys was not the norm for everyone. After we moved away from home, she would send checks.  Christmas money came with careful instructions for how to split the money with my husband and children.  Even after my kids had moved out, I made sure they received their $5 from Aunt Ida.

Ida's life created a safe place of extended family for me.  Her Christian lifestyle and the way she cared for Grammy after Popop died were good examples to me.  When I would visit from IN, she and Grammy welcomed us with a home-cooked meal.  Then Ida would show us the latest crazy-patterned quilt she was making and take us upstairs to the spare room where an array of bargain sale items were stashed, waiting for the annual yard sale in town where she could sell them and make a profit.  She and Grammy might sing with us while Ida accompanied on the accordion. We can still hear their Dutchy voices belting out the melody, whenever we sing a favorite carol they usually sang at Christmas.

Aunt Ida was the aunt who never married, the spinster.  When she was 73 she took the bold step of marrying a man in his early nineties. Somehow God had not brought along the right man for her until her twilight years.  They enjoyed married life for three years until Paul died.

As the pastor shared Ida's life's story, it was a beautiful panorama of a woman who had served others well.  She could be a bit sassy and yet, she preferred to be behind the scenes helping others.  She had volunteered in a mental health facility, was a nanny for a family, lived in with another family who had a special needs child, and had worked in a home for displaced children.

I came away from the memorial with a greater awareness of  how the little things matter.  Choosing to live each day with integrity and righteousness and serving others, adds up to making a difference to those who know you. We each have a unique contribution to make to the lives of family, friends and acquaintances we are a part of. No matter how mundane life may feel or how little we feel appreciated, our faithfulness to do life as best we know how and to keep giving ourselves away, to lose our lives for Jesus' sake, is guaranteed to reap benefits here and in the life to come.

Thank you, God, for creating an Aunt Ida and for placing me in her family. Take my life and what feels so little and insignificant at times and use it to give others encouragement and hope.  Love through me more and more so others will be drawn to you.  Thank you for creating each of us for your enjoyment and for your purposes and plans.  May I never give in to the lie that my life is my own, and that what I do doesn't impact or concern anyone but me.