Very rarily do I put my heart-n-soul into a piece of writing and then totally scrap it, rough draft and all, but that's exactly what I did when I originally wrote this piece over 2 nights ago. When I looked at the finished result I thought to myself "Who the hell is gonna wanna hear about a great-aunt of mine? People will probaly think it's boring so just press delete." And that's exactly what I did. But then the last couple of days I re-thought my stance and reminded myself once again that this blog is not only what I choose to write about, but why not celebrate someone who made a positive difference in my life? Surely that can't be that boring...
My great-aunt Elise was more than just my Grandma's older spinster sister, more than just my Mom's favorite aunt, she also happened to be my friend. I remember as a kid all the fun I use to have with her whenever we went to Michigan for our summertime visits to my Grandma's house. During those visits, Elise and I would do everything fun any kid back then woulda loved. She would take me to the local park to play on the merry-go-round and have our private little picnics, just the two of us, complete with her miniature homade blackberry pies that she would make just for the occassion. On windy days we would go to the very same park to fly kites and afterwards lay on one of the hills and just watch the clouds go by, simply daydreaming to our hearts content. Some days we'd drive over to Lake Huron and go swimming, or just walk along the shoreline talking, laughing and searching for the somewhat elusive Petoskey stones that would wash up (Michigan's state stone) on shore. Those summer days were the best with her. But it was more than just spending time with her on those fun-filled days - nights were a treat too.
Every night that she would tuck me into bed she always told me one of the many colorful bedtime stories she had hid up her imaginary sleeve. My most favorite one was "De Warlock van Kolmarden" (The Warlock of Kolmarden). Following a quick shower and racing to get into my jammies, we would sit at my Grandma's giant kitchen table for a night-time snack of ice cold Ovaltine (have always loved that stuff!) and a couple of her homade Pecan Shortbread cookies and then off to bed I went. Elise would sit in my great-grandma's rocking chair, next to the little bed in my Mom's old bedroom (my sisters were always in my aunt's old bedroom, so I always got Elise to myself, yes!!), and turn on the small night-light above my head, shortly after tucking me in and then the story would begin.....
Once upon a time, a very,very long time ago, in olde Sweden, there was a young shepherd boy who lived at the edge of the forests of Kolmarden with his family. Every week his mother would send him to the market at the end of the forest to purchase a big bag of flour so that she could make their weekly supply of fresh bread. But to get to the market the young boy had to cross the bridges that ran over many of the forest streams but he didn't care about the weekly journey for he adored the forests and all the woodland birds and creatures that lived within them.
One night as he was making the 2 mile journey to the market, as he was approaching the one end of the bridge he heard what sounded like the cries of small children and when he reached the bridge he saw a little boy and a little girl holding hands and crying. He set his lantern down and asked them what was the matter. They told him that they were on their way to meet up with their parents but could not find them so when they came to the stream, they decided to sit on the moon-lit side so their parents could find them. He felt so bad for them so he gave them each a huge hug of comfort and told them not to worry, that he would stay with them until their parents came for them. So he took the lantern and made a small campfire for the three of them. As soon as the children were calmed down they all started talking with each other - talking about the beauty of the forest, what was each of their favorite Kylie Minogue songs and why (sorry, I couldn't resist!) and how pretty the beams of moonlight were dancing on the waters of the stream. Just as their conversation was ending, out of the woods on the opposite side of the bridge appeared the children's parents - instantly the two children let out a yelp and raced to their parents - their little family was united and both the mother and the father could not stop thanking the young shepherd boy for the good deed he had done. They wished him well and wished him much good fortune for his kindness and then they all parted each other's company.
The shepherd boy, feeling quite good and proud of himself after his good deed, took off his hat and filled it with water from the stream to extinguish the small campfire he had shared with the two children. All the while that he was doing so he kept getting the feeling that someone or something was watching him; but, he shrugged it off when the campfire was totally out and proceeded on his journey to the market. He was right, he indeed was being watched but not by any human, nor any animal, but something entirely different from the two. That entire evening he was being secretly watched from behind a veil of faerie glamour by a mixture of faeries, elves and the vendekom who revelled in awe by the young lad's act of kindness towards the lost children. While he was purchasing the sack of flour from the market, these immortals of the Kolmarden forests (as they were called back then) decided to have a meeting where they would decide on how this young boy would be rewarded, for there was not one single dispute amongst those present against his honorable deed.
On his way home, just as he had finished crossing the bridge over the woodland stream, he was so startled by what he saw that he stopped dead in his tracks and dropped the sack of flour out of his hands - two vendekom greeted him and said to him "Don't be afraid, we are not here to frighten, nor harm you." He asked them "What do you possibly want with me?" The two told him the story of how they watched what he did, staying with and protecting the lost children, and comforting them, making them feel safe. He told them that he did what he felt was right and they assured him that for his noble gesture he would be rewarded tremendously.
So the immortals of the Kolmarden Forest revealed to him, his just reward. From that day forward, he would be like them, immortal; and, he would have the command of the woodland birds and creatures at his beck-n-call and that as long as he lived, there would never ever again be lost children in the land of Sweden. The powers bequeathed to him were to be used to protect not just all the children of the land, but all the kings and queens, both faerie and elve alike, of the woodland forests and the woodland streams - the perfect balance between mankind and nature. And, for those times when the young shepherd boy would feel alone or lost or even seperated from the world he knew, a simple crystal ball given to him by the vendekom glassblowers of the forest would illuminate and guide him away from obscurity, both his own and that caused by the world itself. No witch, nor goblin, nor wizard, nor even one single tiny evil thought could be a match against the noble and valiant Warlock of Kolmarden, for from that day forward, in both the worlds of man and nature, that is who he would be known as. The young shepherd boy thanked his benefactors graciously and from that day forward never once was a child lost in the land of Sweden ever again.
That story use to blow my mind when I was a kid, I just adored it! And after hearing it, I would always drift off to sleeping imagining what it was like to be able to communicate with all the different birds of the forests, especially my favorites, Cardinals and Chickadees. I also wondered to myself "Wouldnt it be kewl if that boy coulda summoned the trees of the forest to chase his nasty sisters across the stream????" Maybe I was a little bastard at times after all. Still, I'll never forget those summer nights spent at my Grandma's house and the tremendous friendship I had with my great-aunt Elise.
Elise and I maintained our friendship over the years and remained very close long after those childhood summers in Michigan became a thing of the past. I use to call her once a week to chat on the phone, every Sunday afternoon, and of course there were the birthday and Christmas cards exchanged, spending time with each other on holiday visits and family reunions. Every year, every Christmas she would always whip up a batch of those fantastic Pecan Shortbread cookies that we use to share at my Grandma's kitchen table on those summer nights and ship them to me no matter where I was living at the time.
In the spring of 1992 she was diagnosed with melanoma and by the time they detected it, it had spread throughout three-quarters of her body. I remember the many nights I would visit her in the hospital, always watching over her carefully as she had done for me so many years earlier, making sure she was comfortable, feeding her ice chips whenever she wanted them and more than several times holding her hand and telling her how much I loved her and that it was gonna be okay, everything would be okay.
The night before she died I was sitting by her hospital bed and had nodded off for a couple of minutes when she summoned me awake by shaking my hand. She told me in a soft, gentle whisper "There's something I want to tell you." I asked her if she was in pain and she said it wasnt anything like that. She told me to come closer to her and she put her hand on the side of my face and said to me "I wanted to let you know that I love you very very much and I couldnt love you more than if you were my own child. I know you've been through a lot in such a short amount of time in you life but you must promise me something - never give up on life and never stop dreaming for it is when we stop dreaming that we truly grow old. Always let your light shine for in my heart I know that if any one person could ever change the world, it's you Dear Boy, it's you." Instantly I started bawling - you know me, good 'ole waterworks - and I said "Oh God Elise, don't you give up, don't you dare die and leave me here all alone. You need to fight this, please, don't leave me." She motioned for an ice chip and when she was finished with it, as I was drying my numerous tears, she said to me "I'm never gonna leave you, I'm always gonna be here, no matter what. I'm not dying, I'm just tired. It's gonna be okay for you too. Now go home and get some rest and I will see you in the morning, alright?" At first I didn't wanna leave but she insisted and I thought that with what she was going through, I could not deny her request. So I left.
The next morning my Grandma called me from the hospital and said that Elise had passed away that morning in her sleep. I lost it, totally lost it and threw on what clothes were laying on the floor and raced over to the hospital. When I entered the room, there she was, as if she were resting peacefully and with the largest smile on her face. After my Grandma and I comforted each other and were leaving the hospital, one of Elise's nurses stopped us in the hallway to offer her condolences, as well as to personally deliver a message to me. She said that about 10 minutes before Elise slipped under for good she told the nurse to tell me how much she loved me and that I would never ever be totally alone, not ever. Naturally, I lost it again and started bawling (when don't I in these experiences, ya know?).
Two weeks after Elise's funeral - I had placed a swag of fresh Lily-of-the-Valley flowers on top of her casket, our mutually favorite flower - I had stopped over at my Grandma's house for some coffee. Midway through our chatting my Grandma got up from the kitchen table and told me she had something for me that Elise wanted me to have. At first I thought "What the hell could she have left me?" because I truly had no clue as to what it could be. When my Grandma came down from the fruit cellar attic where all things old and personal were kept in those days, she was holding a small, leatherbound sachtel that was old and tattered, yet still intact with Elise's initials emblazoned in gold near the handle. She told me "Open it." And when I did and put my hand inside of it to see what was in it, I felt something heavy, I couldn't lift it with just one hand. I peered down inside the sachtel and lost my breath - with both hands I pulled up and out of it the most gorgeous, sparkling crystal ball I had ever seen in my entire life! My Grandma said "Oh my, look at that...!" Instantly I started laughing and crying at the same exact instant for it was then that I realized completely that I would never be alone again, I would always have that one extra guardian angel watching over me, my Aunt Elise. Then my Grandma said "Don't forget the card" - there was a tiny sealed envelope attached to the handle that I must've overlooked and when I opened it, the message comforted my inner soul - "Don't you ever give up on life, never stop reaching, and never stop dreaming. Love, Aunt Elise." In closing, I'd like to give a special Thank-You to my Aunt Elise, for always believing in me and for always sustaining me with strength when I thought there wasn't any left. Thank you for reading.
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