I am your aunty for life

Here are clean sheets,

and my spare key

From Mohja Kahf’s The Aunty Poem (Mi Privilege Es Su Privilege)

I come from a long line of amazing Aunties. Aunt Bessie, my father’s Great Aunt who lived to the age of 94, taught me to never arrive somewhere empty handed or let someone leave on an empty stomach. My Great Aunts Ruth and Dottie, my mother’s Aunts, taught me the value of humor, family, and showing up. My Aunt Barbara shows up for it all, too. The quilt illustrating this post was made by my Aunt Toni. Lois and Ann, my mother’s sorority sisters, embody the power of female friendship and love. My notion of what it means to be an Aunty has also been shaped and formed by the strong female friendships I have made along the way.

I believe that the term Aunty refers to a very special bond. It does not necessarily have to be biologic. It does not apply to any specific age, or gender, or culture. It does not have to be rooted in anything other than love.

I love being an aunty. Being an Aunty has been one of my life’s greatest joys. Sometimes I am a better aunty than others. On my best aunty days, I connect with my nieces and nephews and let them know they are loved. I create memories, celebrate milestones, and offer (solicited and unsolicited) advice. I support the parents, grandparents, and caregivers who show up for them every day. I laugh and cry with them. I listen to them and see them. I am constant in a way that I am never more than a text, phone call, or visit away. At least that is my sincere hope.

My 21 year old niece visited last weekend with her boyfriend. I was truly emotional as I recalled how her birth happened both yesterday and one million years ago. I found myself singing the songs her Great Grandfather sang to me, talking about the smell of his pipe tobacco and the favorite perfumes of her Great Grandmothers, telling her about the importance of hard work and perseverance, quizzing her boyfriend about just about everything, reminding her she can do whatever she puts her mind to.

We hear so often that it takes a village that I think the importance of a village can be lost. Like the words sacred, holy, and miracle, village can become a watered down/under appreciated/forgotten-amidst-life’s-speed concept. I completely disagree. The village is glue, compass, and story. The village is presence, faith, and truth. The village is home, connection, and love. Aunties are the heart of the village.