My cousin Jai asked me to write something to read at my Aunt Millie's celebration ceremony today, since she liked reading my blog so much. I was so honored, and happy to oblige, as my thoughts always come out better on paper. I decided to post it on the blog for any family or friends who couldn't make it today. She was one of the best, and I look forward to the day when I'll see her again.
For Millie:
When my sister Mandy and I were little, my Aunt Millie and Uncle Jon were in their heyday.
It was the late 80's, the economy was booming, and if you lived near the water and wore a Guy Harvey shirt, my Uncle Jon probably sold you a boat.
We loved Uncle Jon because he always took us shopping and cooked the best fish on the grill. But Aunt Millie... well she was something special altogether.
You see, she was always fabulous.
She always had her nails done. She always had her hair done. She had the best clothes, and the best jewelry, and the best tan. She had a California King sized bed and a water fountain in her bathroom. (I only found out later that it was called a bidet and wasn't actually for drinking out of at all.)
Mom and Dad would take us down to North Carolina to visit, and Aunt Millie and Uncle Jon would take us out on the boat- speed boat, pontoon boat, fishing yacht, whatever boat you wanted, and Aunt Millie would wear a bikini and the hottest new sunglasses and sit on that boat with a glass of wine in her hand like she was born that way.
I remember so many fabulous things about Millie when I was little... going through her jewelry and smelling her perfume, watching her move through a room like she was liquid, but the memory that stands out the brightest was when she was "Nurse Millie."
They would come visit us in our little ranch house outside of Baltimore whenever there was a boat show in town. One visit Mandy and I were fresh on our bikes without training wheels and Mandy turned the corner in the driveway and wiped clean out and wound up with a knee full of gravel. She was boo-hooing, and I remember trailing behind as Millie, in all her fabulosity, scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom and told her Nurse Millie would make it all better. She propped her up on the sink and set to work cleaning that knee, and we were so mesmerized by her that pretty soon Mandy was laughing instead of crying and I was busy thinking up ways how I could skin my knee so I could have Nurse Millie take care of me so good. I remember for a long time after that whenever Mandy or I would get hurt, we'd always wish Nurse Millie was there to fix us up. It's funny, because many years later we'd both end up living with Millie at separate times when we were young women that needed fixing up... because somehow even when we got hurt the grown up way, she could still make us feel all better.
We all had our ups and downs, my sister and I to be sure, but Aunt Millie and Uncle Jon, too. The economy bottomed out, boats weren't selling as hot, and they had to downsize a time or two. When I think back on it now, the thing that comes to mind is that Bible verse... "I will cast all my cares upon Him, I will lay all of my burdens down at His feet". Because we never saw Aunt Millie sweat. She was never stressed. She was always gracious, always smiling, and there was always a place for you at her table. I'm sure she must have felt a lot of stress in some of those times, but the only evidence we could ever see of it was her Bible on the end table. I know now it was because she brought all of her cares to Jesus and laid them at as His feet, so she could be there at our feet to listen to ours.
The Lord was faithful, and in the middle of some of the hard times Aunt Millie got herself a grandbaby. I remember going to visit after Jenna was born, and the whole house felt brighter. Jenna was Aunt Millie's light. Then Zack came along, and she was just so proud. Back then I could see those babies light up and shine through Millie, but, you know, now I can see Millie shine through them.
I thought for a while that I might ask everyone to share with me their favorite memories with Aunt Millie to include in this tribute. But then I thought, I wouldn't be able to write about somebody else's memories and do them justice. Those have to live in your own hearts the way that memories do. But I thought, too, that everyone else's memories of Millie are probably, in a lot of ways, the same as my memories. Because she was always the same Millie to everyone.
You see, she was everything.
She was always there for you 100% no matter what.
She was the best person to laugh with, and the best person to cry with.
She taught me how important it is to set a nice meal at the table.
And how it's even more important to let the dishes sit in the sink for awhile after because, girl, sometimes you just need to put your feet up and have a glass of wine.
The last time I saw Aunt Millie I had it in my mind all the things I was going to tell her, and all the ways I was going to thank her, and how I was going to say she had fought so hard for so long and she had done us all proud and she could go ahead and quit now. But she came out of her bedroom to see me and my babies, and she still had her head held up high and, wouldn't you know it, she still wouldn't let me see her sweat. And we sat down and had ourselves a visit just like we've had so many times before. And she asked me to tell her about all of my stuff and so I did. And I couldn't bring myself to talk about any of her stuff, because we just never did it that way. It wasn't right, even at the end. So I told her about the boys, and Uncle Jon said, "You've got your hands full", and I said, "Oh, but so is my heart," and Aunt Millie sighed and said, "That's right, girl."
And she squeezed my hand.
And I felt in that moment that I had got it right, that all those years I'd spent watching her had finally paid off.
I know firsthand now that the most full life is the one that's spent simply loving on the ones you love. My Aunt Millie taught me that.
And I think we can all agree, that if loving on your family constitutes a full life, then our Millie had the fullest life of all.
