Blanche
By Vernon Hamilton
When I was about six or so, my brother Othello and I used to have some confusion about family relationship names. For example, what’s a first cousin, or a second cousin, or a third cousin. We really didn’t understand it, so we made a list.
Usually Leroy (or Anthony) was first cousin, Bea was second cousin, and so forth. Sometimes, in my list, Tommy Tompkins might be first cousin, or Joey Robinson might be high on the list, if he shared some candy or something like that. We had so many cousins, that real second cousins probably didn’t count at all.
Then there were all the levels of aunts. There was Aunt Lillian and Big Lillian and aunt Blanche and another Aunt Blanche, and Uncle Everett and Uncle Ev.
So now that you know that I have some confusion on those terms, and that long ago I learned to give them the meaning that made sense to me, I want to talk about my Great Aunt Blanche.
Of course, Blanche was just a plain aunt. My mother’s sister. But she was certainly my Great Aunt.
My great aunt Blanche was not only my mother’s sister, but also the wife of my father’s closest brother – a double aunt.
When my mother died, Blanche and my uncle Marshall moved their whole family from Brooklyn to the Bronx to take full care of my younger siblings (Claire and Clyde), and to help my father with Othello and me. By then, they had four children of their own, but took primary responsibility for four more. Everything she gave to them, she gave as freely to us.
All through her life, Blanche had an open door to those who needed her help. Not only in her own family, in dealing with the illnesses and loss of Marshall, Bea, Mark and Laurie, but with other family members and neighbors and even strangers. She was a nurse in her profession, and in all aspects of her life.
I went to visit my Great Aunt Blanche maybe twice a year. Usually on the way from the beach, always uninvited, always without notice, and always received a warm welcome. Usually, I found her in the middle of serving someone else – food, or comfort, or advice, or all three. She was one of the most loving people that any of us will ever know.
I recently reminded Leroy of his good fortune in having the ongoing love of his mother through all these years. But I know that does nothing to lessen the loss. I have had her love and support too, and I thank the gods for that, but I will still miss her so much. Blanche was truly a Great Aunt.
By Vernon Hamilton
When I was about six or so, my brother Othello and I used to have some confusion about family relationship names. For example, what’s a first cousin, or a second cousin, or a third cousin. We really didn’t understand it, so we made a list.
Usually Leroy (or Anthony) was first cousin, Bea was second cousin, and so forth. Sometimes, in my list, Tommy Tompkins might be first cousin, or Joey Robinson might be high on the list, if he shared some candy or something like that. We had so many cousins, that real second cousins probably didn’t count at all.
Then there were all the levels of aunts. There was Aunt Lillian and Big Lillian and aunt Blanche and another Aunt Blanche, and Uncle Everett and Uncle Ev.
So now that you know that I have some confusion on those terms, and that long ago I learned to give them the meaning that made sense to me, I want to talk about my Great Aunt Blanche.
Of course, Blanche was just a plain aunt. My mother’s sister. But she was certainly my Great Aunt.
My great aunt Blanche was not only my mother’s sister, but also the wife of my father’s closest brother – a double aunt.
When my mother died, Blanche and my uncle Marshall moved their whole family from Brooklyn to the Bronx to take full care of my younger siblings (Claire and Clyde), and to help my father with Othello and me. By then, they had four children of their own, but took primary responsibility for four more. Everything she gave to them, she gave as freely to us.
All through her life, Blanche had an open door to those who needed her help. Not only in her own family, in dealing with the illnesses and loss of Marshall, Bea, Mark and Laurie, but with other family members and neighbors and even strangers. She was a nurse in her profession, and in all aspects of her life.
I went to visit my Great Aunt Blanche maybe twice a year. Usually on the way from the beach, always uninvited, always without notice, and always received a warm welcome. Usually, I found her in the middle of serving someone else – food, or comfort, or advice, or all three. She was one of the most loving people that any of us will ever know.
I recently reminded Leroy of his good fortune in having the ongoing love of his mother through all these years. But I know that does nothing to lessen the loss. I have had her love and support too, and I thank the gods for that, but I will still miss her so much. Blanche was truly a Great Aunt.