Memories from Sarah

Now, I realize that most of you are going to see this book and think, "OMG! Really, Sarah! You couldn't just jot down one or two stories like the rest of us?" And my answer is, NO! I couldn't. You all know me and that once I get going I become a force to be reckoned with. Besides, this isn't for you anyway, it's for Aunt Jo; and I know she'll love it no matter how short or looong it is. So here goes EVERYTHING!
I too, like a countless many others, have had the priviledge of knowing this sweet lady known by many different names and roles. From daughter, mom, grandma, great grandma, aunt, sister, friend, adoptive mother, and I'm sure many more; but for me she has always been my Hant Jo along with stepping in as the grandmother that I never had.
As I look back on my childhood and reminisce about the good old days, I believe that some of the most important lessons that I've ever learned I learned from Aunt Jo. She taught me that (#1) life isn't always fair and that no one is going to take it easy on you just because you're a good person. (#2) That falling down and making mistakes doesn't make you a failure, but that staying down and refusing to correct them does. (#3) That the only one who is responsible for you and your actions is you. She also taught me that (#4) if I work hard and do my best that I will feel good about myself and others will respect me; and that there may just be a reward in the end.
How did she teach me these things you might ask? Well, it wasn't how you would think; by being too hard on me. No, it was in the small things and areas of growing up that I learned these lessons; and it seemed that at every stage of my very young life there was a new level of difficulty to work on.
The earliest that I remember starting to learn them was when I was about 3 or 4 and it was in one of the most unconventional ways...while putting puzzles together at the kitchen table. (I believe the puzzle that we did most was of a bear in a raincoat carrying a lunch pail or maybe a suitcase? I think he was called Bearington Bear; does that sound right?) She showed me how to compare the pieces; their shapes, sizes, and color patterns until I found out where they went. Like most kids, I would pick a piece look at it for a couple seconds, get bored, and move on to another one; or at least try to. Although, I never quite got away with that. She would have me sit there and concentrate on it until I succeeded. To which she would give me a nod of approval and I would move on to the next one until the puzzle was complete. That was another thing, if we started something, then we always finished it. No matter what the task was, we never left anything incomplete. Which also taught me very early that (#5) I shouldn't start something I don't plan to finish.
As I got older, though; the ways I kept learning and improving on these life lessons changed. When I was old enough to start learning how to play games like Mexican Train, Uno, Yahtzee, Solitaire, Skip-Bo, and Phase 10, she made sure that I understood that she wasn't going to take it easy on me and downplay her game to make me feel better or give me more of an advantage at winning just because I was a kid. She wanted me to win fairly (which is where I learned lessons #1 and #4). We stuck to the rules! Yes, every rule, and if she wasn't sure about something (which didn't happen often...lol) then we checked the rule book to be sure. No shortcuts, easy ways out, cheating, or breaks.
In my opinion, those were the easy lessons to learn, or so I thought. I was sure that I understood them completely until I turned 7 and my world had come crashing down just weeks earlier. In losing my Dad, that's where I was able to fully comprehend that life isn't fair. Because it was no longer a matter of winning or losing at a game of cards, it was real life with real life problems that I had the misfortune of learning at a very young age. People said horrible things about me; that I would be a problem child, a troubled teenager, and might even commit suicide from the scarring I received at the most pivotal time in my childhood. No one knew that I heard these things or how they made me feel, but I remembered what I had learned from Aunt Jo. That's when I learned lessons #2 and #3, and where I dusted myself off, picked myself up (usually my dad's job), and became determined to come out of the situation on the winning side.
Even though the pain was real and the hurt cut deep, Aunt Jo didn't treat me any differently than before. She still held me accountable for my words and actions, gave me household chores while staying with her at her house, and didn't let me get away with anything just because my world stopped periodically. I think she knew what she was doing; she knew that I still needed my "routine" and the continual moulde of structure that I was used to. Which was hard for my mom to enforce because she was working 3 jobs just to take care of us and didn't get to see us as much as she wanted. I'm grateful to Aunt Jo for picking up the slack for my mom in those departments. She and Joni became cornerstones in our lives even more than before that year and every year after; permanent fixtures deep down inside of us.
The phrase, "Time heals all things", proved to be true and we all moved on somehow. In fifth grade, I learned to play the clarinet and became very good at it. I would go stay with Aunt Jo a couple times a month and whenever I would, I made sure that I took my clarinet with me. She would take me to see Uncle Bill at Founder's Nursing Home and let me play for him and the other residents. They loved it and I didn't realize it then, but she was teaching me how to make someone elses day better by doing even the smallest of things like playing some simple music, giving a smile while holding someone's hand, and daily taking the time to sit with a person you love to let them know they aren't alone even when they don't remember who you are or why you care so much. She was so strong and I admire that about her. I hope that I can be as strong if and when the time comes.
One of the most exciting things that I had to look forward to every year was helping Aunt Jo with her yard sale days. Many times a year, Aunt Jo and Joni would host a huge 3 day yardsale from their optimal space off of Addison Rd. and everyone had to stop there to check it out. There were so many different friends and family that would bring their goods to sell and it was set up like a flee market that spread across the entire surface of the front yards and driveways between Aunt Jo and Joni's houses. When I was old enough to help out (which just happened to be the summer of 1996), they put me to work helping to bag people's items up for them while they paid "The Lady In Charge". I'm sure you can guess who that was. Haha! Yep, Aunt Jo. I felt so important sitting there next to her and so excited that I got to help in what I thought was a detrimental way. After all, it would be utter chaos if there wasn't a bagger, right?  I also helped tear the tables down and pack everything up and carry it to the sheds and basement when the sales were over; and I thought I was on top of the world when she would hand me my "cut" of the money....$5. Lol! Come on, $5 is a lot to a little kid. I could buy like 20 pieces of candy with that.  After a couple years though, I had the surprise and honor of my life when Aunt Jo gave up HER chair and asked me (ME!) to take the money and hand out the change. Such an honor, such power, such responsibility; to sit in the "In Charge" chair was liberating. Yes, I do realize that I sound like a power-hungry maniac, but I wasn't. Just felt very proud of myself because I realized that what Aunt Jo said about my work being noticed by others when I do my best was true. And that sometimes, there really is a reward for doing a great job and giving it your all.
Over the next few years, she even left me by the cash box by myself to do everything. Bag the items while adding up the totals and writing them down in the log book to keep track of whose was whose. She taught me to be very polite and respectful. Patty and I were working together the summer of 2001 (which was one of the last yard sales I think) and I got paid $12 more than Patty. I was stoked! Aunt Jo said that she paid us for what we worked and earned. That was probably one of the first times that I did better than Patty. (Sorry, Patty. I had to share it.) We were both trying to raise money for camp that year at Shekinah in Tennessee, and I made $77 over those 3 days. I was able to get everything that I needed for camp and still have a lot left over. Around this same time frame, Aunt Jo taught Becca and I how to do plastic canvas types of crafts and we spent every waking moment at her house crafting. We loved it and even sold some of them.
I've learned so much from her and have so many fond memories that I get the privilege to think about regularly. When I sit down to do a puzzle, I always start by putting the edge pieces together, separating the inside pieces into color spectrums, and working methodically in one area at a time with all the pieces face up. I still can't go to the store and see a wide-eyed needle without smiling and thinking of her. Or see a crafting doll in a yard sale without wondering how she would decorate and dress her up. Would she be a washer-woman with her bucket of hand-made miniature cleaning supplies, or a witch dressed up for Halloween with her broom and pointy hat. I see a bucket of hodge-podge buttons of assorted shapes, colors, and sizes and remember the little flower pot people we used to make and use the buttons on strings as arms and legs dangling from their proper places. To most of us, a bingo chip was just that, a bingo chip; but to Aunt Jo it was a secure bottom to hot-glue her hand-made Mexican Train tokens on so they would stand upright. To you and me, a bag of cotton balls is just a bag of cotton balls; but to her they were endless possibilities of bunny tails, bear ears, and fabric stuffing for doll props. To us, a ball of yarn is a ball of yarn; but to her it was the hair that she would attach to and braid on her stuffed decorative/seasonal dolls to sell in her yard sales. I was always so enamored by her creativity and ability to turn ANYTHING into something WONDERFUL. People tell me often that they can't believe how artistic I am when it comes to things I've done and ideas I have. But I correct them saying that I'm not artistic; I'm just crafty and creative and that I get it from my Aunt Jo.
I have thoroughly enjoyed growing up with and next to this woman who has taught me so much and loved me so much. I couldn't have asked for a better Aunt, grandma, role model; and I thank God for her daily. She has been a great inspiration to me all these years and will continue to be for the rest of my years. I love you so much, Aunt Jo; and am extremely grateful that you never gave up on me. For being my guardian angel when my dad passed away and keeping me from (in his words) "falling through the cracks". You are greatly loved and I'll be forever honored to have you in my heart.

Sincerely,
Sarah Awifabus