Mention Aunt Jane in front of my stepfather’s family and we all smile and have some snarky remark.
Aunt Jane is in her 70’s and she is my stepfather’s sister. I have known Aunt Jane, who does not like to be called Aunt Jane since I was 16 years old. She just wants to be called Jane. Jane would be a spinster except for one itty bitty thing. She has a son. At one point she had a husband too. But since her story is so off the wall, we will grant her spinster status as in every other way, she is a spinster.
When Jane was around 30, she was still living at home with her mother. There are details that no one is quite sure of, but those details do not make a lot of difference, the bottom line was Jane got pregnant. Rumor and old memories say the babydaddy was a college professor who was a nerdy guy who was single. Knowing what Jane is like and assuming she was always like she is now, we’re all guessing this poor guy was quite desperate. As soon as the rabbit was pronounced dead, the babydaddy didn’t want anything else to do with Jane. That was until my very angry stepfather, brother of the disgraced Jane, paid a visit to him and told him exactly what he would do and what shape he would find himself in if he did not. Let’s just say babydaddy and the rabbit would have a lot in common.
Jane and babydaddy married at the courthouse. She left the blessed ceremony and went back home with her mother and he went back to his life and prayed he never faced my stepfather again. Babydaddy never called or inquired about the baby, a little boy, that was born back in 1966. He did send money on regular basis, but this more of payment to make sure he was not found in a back alley off Beale Street moreso than to do his fatherly duties.
When the young child was 12, Jane read in the paper that her husband, the babydaddy, had passed away. She dressed the boy up in his Sunday best and took him to the funeral. So the only time the boy every saw his father was in the casket.
Jane was…weird…She was very protective of the boy and very old fashioned. She never wore makeup, wore long sleeves and pants and never went out. She didn’t have friends – male or female. Her life was spent devoted to her son.
The boy grew up and things could have been bad but they weren’t. There were enough influences in his life to keep him balanced. He had his cousins (my step siblings) to help him be a normal teenager and young man, and he understood that he would always have to take care of his mother. She could not take care of herself. Never had, never would.
As Jane aged, we didn’t notice, but others did. She became quite scary. Think Norman Bates’ mother on sedation drugs. We poked fun and talked about her, mostly making jokes. We didn’t sit around and trash her but we would make fun of her clothes and hairstyle by telling he she would never get man dressed like that.
The boy went to college and became a pharmacist. He had a serious girlfriend that was a veterinarian. The vet needed to move away to accept a job and the boy refused to move, he could not leave his mother. So that was the end of that. The boy did not live with his mother, he had his own house, but he was close by to make sure she was OK. He could not just leave her. He had to support her financially and physically.
It was then we (the family) accepted that the boy would likely never marry as what woman wanted to come into that situation. A scary, old, bitter, mean mother that takes first place in the boy’s life? We felt bad for the boy. He felt bad too and he didn’t attempt to date.
Then one day last year, one of the cousins insisted that the boy “get out there” on a popular on line dating site. Much assistance was given in writing the perfect profile to market this great catch to the women of the world. In just a few short weeks, the connection was made and the boy met the girl. The boy and girl moved quickly. Both were close to 40 and had never been married. Both wanted kids. There was no time to waste.
The culmination of the on-line dating service and a few trips to the hair club for men was a beautiful beach wedding last month. It was a very happy occasion for our family. Finally! The boy found happiness in the sweetest, most accepting woman in the world. We were happy to be there for the union of these two.
We all figured Jane would have a hard time with this event. Her entire life had been centered around the boy and now he was a man and taking on another woman who would need to be the center of his life. I heard from my step siblings that the new woman was not only accepting of Jane, but she LIKED her. I saw this first hand at the wedding. Jane’s clothes looked a little better. Not fashionable or anything, but at least purchased recently. Her hair was fixed. She was smiling.
Jane bragged that the woman took her shopping! She helped her pick out a dress! Jane was not sitting in her room crying and pouting over the loss of her son. She was with the family, happy, and celebrating the marriage of her son to the woman.
When the family gathered in the lobby of the hotel just before the wedding, the photographer was shooting the groom’s party. Jane looked better than I have ever seen her! She had on a dress with a shawl over it, very appropriate for a 70 something year old mother of the groom. She was nervous that the shawl would fall off her shoulder and expose skin, so she sewed the shawl onto the dress so she would be comfortable. She was proud that the woman took her shopping for this dress! Jane had on shoes my adult daughter used to wear in the 4th grade – jellies. OK, let’s give her that, OK? She was fashionable in every other way and the jellies were a little more “beach” than the Dr Scholl’s orthopedic shoes she usually wears.
We were all complimenting Jane and we meant it. No joking and snarks on that day. This was the boy’s day, but it was Jane’s day also. As long as any of us have known our dear Jane, we never thought this day would come and if it did, that she would be smiling and happy. It was truly a wonderful day.
It was raining when the wedding was supposed to start, so the wedding was held in a banquet room reserved for such bad weather situations. As we were ushered in, most of my family went to the right side of the room to be seated as we outnumbered the bride’s side that was to be seated on the left. One of the ushers caught me, my husband, my son and his fiance and directed us to sit on the left. I did not want to sit on the left, but we were ushered there anyway. Although the room was small and my family was just across the aisle, I felt like a traitor on the wrong side of the room. I was not comfortable.
The mothers were ushered in. Jane looked wonderful and she was smiling. She was seated on the front row. I noticed the youngish couple in front of me giggling. Then I saw the young woman point her camera and I could see clearly what she was shooting. She was taking pictures of Jane and laughing. She zoomed in on Jane’s head and snapped. She zoomed in on her shoes and snapped. She showed her husband the pictures and they laughed.
This pissed me off.
First, because they were obviously making fun of MY AUNT JANE. No one is allowed to do that but relatives. Secondly, how did this young bitch know to make fun of Jane? Had the woman in the nice white bridal gown only put up a front acting as if she liked Jane and then trashed her to her friends? I was annoyed all throughout the ceremony thinking of someone (other than family) being mean to Jane.
I followed the young bitch out and every time she looked at me I was giving her the “go straight to the pits of hell” look. At the reception, I told my oldest stepsister about the young bitch shooting pictures of Jane and laughing at them. My stepsister rounded up other family members and we came up with a plan.
Rather than confront the young bitch, five of us got our cameras and on the count of three, we walked to the table where the young bitch sat and we started snapping pictures of her over and over again. She and her husband were confused and then scared. They had no idea what was going on. We didn’t care. We kept smiling and laughing. Vengeance is sweet.
I guess it is true, we can pick on family all we want, but no one else can. She is our Aunt Jane, dammit, and the young bitches better back off.
Aunt Jane in her mother of the groom dress, looking fabulous!
Aunt Jane dances for the first time in her whole life at her son’s wedding.
Me and my aunt, Jane.
