Monday, December 26, 2011

When I Grow Up

JOYCE SHOLES

Sophisticated.
Intelligent.
Classy.
And so much more.
My Aunt Joyce.

She'd put on make up every day and tailored knit suits and heels and catch the bus to downtown where she'd manage an insurance office.  She was the essence of glam, in my book, the soul of independence.  And I wanted to be just like her when I grew up.  Once I figured out on paper how I could do exactly that-I'd just have to make $50/week to fill those shoes!  Dream on!

Despite being a single career woman, or maybe because of that, she had time for us kids, her 10 nieces and nephews.  Some of that would be just letting us listen to records up in her room or hide and play in the back of her mystery of a closet in the old house she shared her whole life with my Grandparents.  Maybe work a little in the yard with her.  But once in awhile she'd take one of us into Chicago to see a real live play ("Oklahoma" for me), or on a trip (the shores of Lake Michigan for a few days once, another time my first trip out West-to the Rockies!)

Besides introducing us to the magic of popular music, she loved to read and shared that as well.  Somehow when she would read "The Adventures of Winnie the Pooh" to me, I remember I would get wildly  hysterical every single time about the Heffalump, and it was then and there that I fell forever in love with Eeyore.

Joyce didn't seem to have a sentimental bone in her body, at least not overtly.   I can't ever imagine her talking baby talk to a baby, but she WAS genuinely interested in us goofy kids and patient with our silly ways.  Never felt judged by her.  While she unconditionally accepted us, she still had high expectations of our minds... talking to us about ideas, books, life.  She just treated us with respect, like miniature adults.

On that trip to the Rockies, I went with her and her friend to Colorado and then on to Yellowstone as a 13 year old wannabe world traveler.  One lesson she taught me was at the Bali Hai Motel in Denver.  I had taken a stroll around the grounds that evening and came back distraught because I had heard a group of people loudly laughing at me.  Of all the nerve!  She looked me in the eye and calmly said, "They're not laughing at you.  You're not that important."  Like that, the Universe shifted.  I stopped being the center of it.  The woman had power, I tell you.

A few days later we were in the Tetons at the base of a mountain where climbers were rappelling up.  I had been in love with the idea of mountains ever since the first book I read about the West had claimed my soul, and I was thrilled just to be there.  Then suddenly it wasn't enough.  I just HAD to climb!  I don't think I even had to say a word, Joyce just nodded to me and I scrambled up like a billy goat.  No, like a mountain goat!  Racing the real mountain climbers with all their gear.  She understood somehow and didn't hold me back.  Who else would have done that?  Pretty sure I couldn't have done that any other way, at least not in such an exhilarating one.  I felt capable, grown up.  Like that, the Universe shifted.  I became part of it.  

She taught me life lessons like that and gave me those kind of gifts that last a lifetime.  I am so much the richer for having had such a woman in my life.  So unbelievably grateful.

When I grow up, I'd still like to be like her.

1 comment:

dianne said...

Joyce was definitely a treasure to all of us nieces and nephews. I hope she knew that.