I just updated her information in my Ancestry tree, closing out another story of a life well-lived.
My whole life has been anchored by my dad's cousins on the farm in Old Church (Mechanicsville, VA). Aunt Teeny was my touchstone, my favorite relative. I have boxes of cards and letters that she sent through the years, and I'm sure she has the same from me. I visited her regularly, especially after my dad died. She was the connection that helped to keep his memory and his love for family alive. When her daughter Robin died two years after my dad, I became a connection for her to Robin.
At age 7, I was delivered by my parents to the farm to stay for two weeks with Aunt Teeny and Uncle Kenneth and their three children in their tiny home next to the "Big House." The house had once been a slave cabin I was told. Robin, who was a year younger than me, was my 2nd cousin, my playmate and companion. We slept in a bunk bed in her room. After that first year, the Vaughan family lived in a darling cottage-type house that was built for Teeny on another part of the farm. (The old cabin was moved and Uncle Junior, Teeny's brother, lived there until he died, and it was sold out of the family.)
I remember having moments of homesickness that first year, but farm life was so magical to me. To this day I can recall the smells, the crunching of straw and tall grass underfoot, the bugs, the variety of animals, the close proximity of family, the plentiful and hearty food, and most of all, the freedom to roam and explore all day, virtually without (noticeable) supervision. We had the run of the property - the Big House, the pastures, barns, chicken coops, sheds, fields, orchards, woods and ponds. Later, we would saddle up our rides (at first, the donkey for me, pony for Robin; then graduated to pony for me and horse for Robin; then horses for both of us). There were so many memorable adventures. Through all of this, my Aunt Teeny wrapped us up in a warmth that enfolded us like one of her colorful, soft, handmade quilts. She was as comfortable as an old pair of slippers.
As I got older, the visits were less often, but I made sure to take friends to the farm whenever I could during college. I knew that we would always be greeted with open arms, food, fun, and laughter. It was fuel for my soul.
I could go to her whenever I needed unconditional love and affection. Hugs and expressions of love in our family were uninhibited and filled up my heart. Near the end of her days, I tried to give back the love she had so generously given me all my life. I took food and special photo albums that I made for her.
Holly and I drove up to visit her three days before she passed. She was heavily sedated and incoherent, but she knew we were there. We held her hand and told stories and visited with each other. Occasionally she would try to say something, but we couldn't understand her. She asked a question: ".... exciting....?" Mostly she would dream and smile sweetly, perhaps seeing something that we could not imagine. Holly and Sharlyn worked together to change her out of her soiled nightgown; after they re-dressed her and situated her in the bed, Sharlyn said, "Nanny, we're all done!" Relieved after the struggle, Teeny responded clearly, "yay-y-y!"
We will hear that echoing in our heads for the rest of our lives. "Yay-y-y!"
