The Joys of Aunting

I have been known to accessorize my outfits with macaroni necklaces.  My preference in art is decidedly “pre-school” with an emphasis on crayola and glitter.  I dine at Chuck E. Cheese more often than your average singleton.  When I enter a local primary school, my arrival ranks somewhere between that of the Good Humor Man and the Tooth Fairy.  Am I peculiar?  Very likely—but that is another conversation.  More to the point, I am an aunt.

Like you, I have many roles in life: daughter, sister, aunt, worker, neighbor, dog owner and friend.  But being an aunt is the favorite role I play.  It allows me to be creative, wacky and a little bit odd—I have a reasonable excuse for keeping bubbles and play-doh in my cupboards.  I get invited on great dates—to Krispy Kreme for hot donuts and for Happy Meals at McDonalds.  I am surrounded by purity of heart and innocence.  And an absolute faith that God and a little more scotch tape can fix anything.

I am very fortunate to live near my parents and my sister’s family.  It was not a conscious decision on my part, rather serendipity.  I graduated from college, had no job, and returned home.  Growing up, I did not live near to my extended family; I saw them occasionally on vacations or the odd holiday.  My father was in the military and our orders rarely placed us in close proximity to our nearest and dearest.   As a result, my parents, sisters and I grew very close.  I did not have the model of Thanksgivings a la Norman Rockwell, with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins galore all in attendance.  It was only ever the five of us to celebrate holidays, birthdays, and major life events.  Growing up, imagining what my life would be like, I never factored “being close to family” as essential in the life equation.  Nice if it happened, but never a deciding factor.

To some extent, that is still the case.  I recognize that I am in a phase in my life where I have the opportunity and blessing to live near my family and I will enjoy it while it lasts.  My circumstances or those of my family may change, calling us elsewhere.

It is exciting to be part of a close-knit extended family.  Family life looks very different from how it did during my childhood.  As an aunt, I have special responsibilities; my parents share similar ones as local grandparents.  I chaperone field-trips to the train station and the pumpkin patch.  My parents lead guided tours of local museums and enjoy a lunch prepared by three-year-olds.  My mother and I were able to watch my sister’s children when she and her husband went to Latvia to begin adoption proceedings for another child.  How  many singletons do you know who drive a minivan and listen to Vegetales during the carpool run?  The few, the proud, the modern extended family. 

In the Sermon on the Mount, Christ said, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.”  I would add that those who are close to “the pure in heart” catch a few glimpses of the Almighty as well. And who is purer in heart than a child?  In the company of my niece and nephews, I witness the awe of seeing the ocean for the first time, care and kindness for all God’s creatures—specifically the hermit crab that lost a leg, and beauty in a bouquet of dandelions.  I hear purity of faith in a nephew’s declaration that his ears are stuck on with “Jesus Glue” and in prayers thanking God for, “Grandaddy, pizza and spoons”.

With these blessings come sacred responsibilities.  I am commissioned to pray for six little souls and watch as God does amazing things in each life.  To talk to them about Jesus and dream with them.  I am able to hold these children and tell them that I love them, but more importantly, that God loves them—tremendously!  I observe their fears, overhear their prayers and rejoice as the know Jesus.  Many times, I think they know Him better now, as children, than I ever will.  It must be the purity of heart.