Auntie!

The following is a narrative essay written by yours truly (Ashton, that is) for my English 12-1 class. I would like to dedicate it to Auntie. I love you Auntie!

It’s kind of odd how our relationship begins. Mine and my mother’s sister’s relationship that is. It all began September 7, 1991. On September 7, 1991, I was born at the early our of 12:05 AM in Bath, Maine. Just 12 short hours later, my mother’s sister, Margaret walked down the aisle to become a wife. That day, Margaret became a wife, a daughter-in-law, a sister-in-law, and a renowned “Auntie.” On that late summer day, Auntie and I both began a new life.
Everybody has a “second mom.” To most teens, it’s their best friend’s mom or older sister, or what not. But my “second mom” is by far my Auntie. She’s been there for me since the day I was born, literally. Directly after her wedding, Auntie and Uncle Robbie drove up to Bath to visit their new niece, clothed in wedding attire and all! They brought balloons and stayed a short while before heading to their wedding reception. Of course, I don’t remember any of this, it’s just what I know from what my mother has told me.
Every Friday night, since I was probably two, my mother would pack me up and ship me off to Auntie’s. Auntie doesn’t live far away; only about 10 minutes from my house. From my earliest memories, I recall riding in my booster seat in Auntie’s big ole’ Bronco to the East Boothbay General Store. Each week, she would order a pepperoni and mushroom pizza. And boy, did I hate mushrooms! We would go back to Peaceful Acres Drive where we would settle in and eat dinner. Of course, Auntie spoiled her little girl by picking off all the mushrooms on Ashton’s piece of pizza! And for a drink, Auntie would whip up some Ovaltine. Blah! Looking back on it, I believe that Auntie and Robbie baby-sit me to “rent-a-kid.” Or in other words, experiment what it was like to have a young child. My mom denies that.
In 1994, Auntie gave birth to her own little girl, Robyn. I don’t remember that at all. But, fast forward about 3 years, and the memories come back at the snap of a finger. Again, Auntie would take me every Friday night, and instead of having alone time with my Auntie, I had to share it with Robyn. Auntie would drive us to Damariscotta where she would purchase Robyn and I Happy Meals. Gosh, Auntie was so strict, she didn’t let us have our toy until after our meal was done. My mother always let me tear open the 5¢ piece of plastic and have at it.
Auntie had a cat named Ziggy and a dog named Chelsea. I would be so petrified of both of them that she would have to lock them up whenever I came around. I don’t know why but every time I went to the bathroom, I would peer behind the shower curtain to make sure Chelsea wasn’t hiding in there. Then one day, Ziggy passed away. Auntie was so upset! A few weeks later, in art class, we had to make something out of papier-mâchéâ . I gagged and gagged using that papier-mâchéâ , the tears were rolling down my cheeks but I stuck with it and designed the most impressionable papier-mâchéâ cat that a 6 year old could make. And I named that cat Ziggy. I awkwardly painted stripes on the cat and made whiskers from pipe cleaners. I was so impressed with Ziggy that I just had to bring it to Auntie’s that Friday. But the art teacher had another idea. She selected my Ziggy to be in the student art show. I was so upset about that until Mrs. Deetjen assured me that Auntie would get her Ziggy, just not for a few more weeks. To this day, Ziggy is still propped up on Auntie’s stairway.
Fast forward another, oh let’s say, four years. It’s March 2002, and my mother and step-father are off to elope in Antigua! And Ben, my brother, and I are left in the caring hands of Auntie. Auntie sets up an inflatable mattress in Tizzy’s room. (Tizzy is the nickname for my cousin Elizabeth who was born on June 5, 2000.) I was in fifth grade. I wasn’t too healthy. I had yet to be diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I would worry tremendously, to the point that my stomach would be so nauseated that I couldn’t eat. Therefore, I wouldn’t eat; I ended up losing about 10 pounds. I don’t exactly know what sparked these behaviors, but it’s probable that September 11th had. So, when Mom left, I was freaking out because I was so petrified of her and my step dad flying! I was okay the first few days, but then I got worse. I worried myself sick so Auntie took off from work, picked me up early from school, rented me a movie, and sat with me all afternoon. I initially left school because I was so sick to my stomach, but nothing happened. No vomiting, diarrhea, nothing. Auntie missed 5 hours of work that day, only to tend to my foolishness. The next day, I went to school. Again, I felt sick and had to leave. Auntie knew better than to take off time from work. This time, she brought me to work and set me up to color in the conference room. Yeehaw! Not. I was bored out of my mind. But the nausea feeling had calmed itself. Those nights until my mother returned home, Auntie would snuggle me until I fell asleep from pure exhaustion. A few days later, the day before Mom came home, Auntie took me and my brother out to lunch. I remember it so clearly. I began to feel really nervous and then I started to cry. My brother was getting frustrated with me; he kept saying I was making a scene. So Auntie took me outside. We went for a “walk.” I don’t remember what she said but I know it made me feel so much better. I guess that’s what Auntie’s are there for.
I have so many more memories of Auntie and I, but those are the ones that most influenced me. When Auntie would tuck me in at night, kiss me goodnight, and whisper “I love you Ashy,” I felt so at ease. My Auntie is my angel, and she cares so deeply for me. When my mother and I argue, or if I’m having boy trouble, I call Auntie. She always digs out the right words to say and comfort me. Through the years, my family has separated, but Auntie has stayed by my side since day one. The love that Auntie passes to me is tremendous. Besides my mother, she’s the one woman in my life who I can always count on, no matter what, no matter when. Auntie treats me with such dignity and respect, I honestly don’t know what I would ever do without her. I love you Auntie!