Auntie Philippa

Auntie Philippa
It was like I woke up one morning and started remembering my life. Just bits and pieces to begin with. As I got older, family stories began to fill in the blanks.
When I was 6 years old, we moved into to a bigger house two streets over and at the other end of the same block.
I have many memories of my life growing up in the ‘small’ house. My younger brother and I slept in bunk beds in one of the two bedrooms. One family story is that we used to live in the garage when mom and dad first brought me home from the hospital.
It was a safe, quiet neighborhood. We were told not to bother the people in the big old house next door that was surrounded by tall evergreen trees. They had no kids and we rarely saw them. Years later I heard a story that, that couple were ‘not married’, which would have been a big deal in the 1950’s. It was an era of keeping things from the kids to shelter and protect them. Like not taking kids to funerals so they wouldn’t get upset or be somehow scarred for life. And all along, kids knowing something is not right and wondering what they did wrong.
Like when Auntie Philippa vanished from our lives. I remember Auntie Phil and Uncle Jake visiting regularly and I was always excited to see them. I don’t really know the how or why, but I do know that Auntie Phil influenced my life. She was one of those corner stone bricks of my foundation. Maybe she played with me and paid attention to me. Or maybe it is as simple as the gift of the doll that was as big as I was. I cherished and loved that doll for years. I even rescued it from the garbage when mom tried to throw it away.
As time went by, Uncle Jake began visiting with Marlene. She was nice too. They eventually got married and had kids.
Years later, more bits and pieces of the puzzle were revealed. Turns out that Auntie Phil was my mom’s best childhood friend and they weren’t our Aunt and Uncle after all. And Philippa and Jake had gotten a divorce.
To this day the story continues to change dimensions. Through the years I have wondered if I should contact and visit Auntie Phil. Does she know she had this impact on me?
Writing this has also opened my eyes and now has me wondering how this was from my mom’s perspective. There must have been lots of conversations and decisions made at the time. One more example of doing the best you can with what you know at the time.