Stewardship

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When I saw a current Challenge it seemed to me to not be a classification for me. After all, I am 75 years young myself.

Not that I didn’t have aunts and uncles because I did, but memories tend to dim with age, but they never go away.

I can’t say I had a favorite. It could have been Uncle George, my mother’s brother. He was killed when I was 10, but I still remember how he spoiled me.

Or it could have been Uncle Bud and Aunt Nan. She was my dad’s oldest sister. Uncle Bud was a knitter, learned after he was shell shocked in WW 1, and Aunt Nan was the spitting image of my grandmother.

Or it could have been Uncle Harry and Aunt Olive. She was my dad’s younger sister. Uncle Harry also was a WW1 veteran and very active in the American Legion. They both liked to hunt, and I can remember, as a child, how fat the black and red plaid hunting suits made them look , especially Aunt Olive. …

I am an aunt and great aunt, but the family is scattered and I no longer see them, and have some I’ve never seen.

But that all changed in 2007 when I accepted my best friend’s invitation to move to Alabama from Florida to share living space with her and her family.

In November her son Jason and her daughter-in-law Jennifer took a weekend off to celebrate their 11th wedding anniversary and Jennifer came home pregnant with her first child.

Pregnancy wasn’t easy, and Jennifer was on bed rest most of the time and unable to work. Each time Jason took her to the hospital for what could be labor pains Linda and I stayed home and prayed that mother and baby would be alright and then they would come home, pain allayed until the next time.

Then on June 26, 2008 Garrett Wade Hay was born prematurely by C-section at eight months, and I became Aunt Freda.

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