We never went on holidays as such when I was a child. Usually, if we went away, it was to see relatives. A firm favourite was an aunt who lived in Tauranga, a warm and sunny place with a huge curving white sand beach pounded with the waves of a deep blue pacific ocean. Summers there were spent at the beach, swimming in the ocean, body surfing on the waves. When the tide went out in the evening we'd dig in the sand for shellfish. Prodding around with our toes in the shallow water, trying to dig the shells out before a wave came in; or trying to hang on to our spot against the pull of the water. My aunt would pickle the pipis in big glass jars, and the drive home to Wellington would be spent with a jar between us, for snacks.
After we'd finished playing around in the pacific we'd head home, shaking sand off our feet and putting towels across the backseat of the car to sit on - the seats were vinyl and blisteringly hot at the end of the day. We'd stop and get chocolate dipped icecreams, then eat them parked by the river while the sun went down. My uncle would throw a stick in the water so that Penny, my aunt's dog, could go for a swim. She loved swimming more than anything, but the salt water was too hard on her.
Back home and my aunt and mother would serve up platefulls of delicious food, and we'd play card games. The only TV in the house was an ancient black and white, which we never really watched as it seemed rude since my aunt couldn't. She'd been blind since her late twenties. It just seemed normal to me. She would visit our school with her seeing eye dog - my favourite was Penny. And walk. We'd walk for miles everyday because she had to walk the dog, and also because she just loved walking. Penny always remembered a route even if she'd only been there once, years before.
Sometimes people didn't understand. The mall manager who tried to insist Penny be taken outside. Or the people that shouted at my aunt when they talked to her (strange, she was blind not deaf).
My aunt passed away last week. She was nearly 90, and she'd had a long and very eventful life. She left behind a daughter, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and more neices, nephews, great-nieces and great-nephews than I can count.
Gipsy joined GateWorld when it was STARGUIDE in January 2001, and has
been watching Stargate since the movie. Originally from New
Zealand (specifically, Wainuiomata), she started backpacking around the
world in 1989 and hasn't stopped yet. Life is spent mostly in London with
husband Mr G and baby G, born in 2005. She is also blessed with a
beautiful step daughter and wonderful step son.
I am not sure how I missed this since I have the RSS feed into my *home page*...but apparently its glitchy
What a wonderful tribute you have paid your Aunt.... and what a wonderful gift you have given us in sharing just a little bit of her and those touching memories of yesterdays with us...
I am sorry for your loss and I am glad you had her in yourlife while you did (((Gips)))
hmmm that's interesting. You didn't actually miss this Tame. The date on the post is actually when I first started writing it - I saved it as a draft. I didn't know that Blogger did that. I'll keep that in mind in future!
Like tame i was a little confused with the date ;).
(((((((((hugs))))))))))
What a loverly tribute and story. Its nice that you have such wonderful memories.
Thanks for sharing. xxxxxx
I'm sorry for your loss but it's wonderful that your aunt lived such a long and full life and had people who so obviously loved her.
(((Gipsy)))
Sorry for your loss.
What a lovely tribute. Sounds like she was a very special person. How lucky are you to have had her in your life and to have such wonderful memories.
Kat
Thank you for letting us know your Aunt a little bit.
Hatusu