Savvy Auntie

Being an aunt is not the same, but it’s pretty darned good

Sue Fagalde Lick aunts, childless aunts, helping parents at Christmas, Melanie Notkin, no kids at Christmas , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Illustrating the fun aunts can have with nieces and nephews. Photo shows a little girl riding piggyback on a woman's shoulders in a park. Both wear pale blue jeans and pink jackets.

You know how people get to talking about their kids and we have nothing to say because we don’t have any? Being an aunt or uncle can get you into the conversation with more fun and less angst. 

I suppose it’s like being grandparents, except you’re still young enough to be fun. 

I spent Thanksgiving with great-nieces and nephews who gave me plenty to talk about. Especially the oldest one. R. and I dressed for Thanksgiving dinner together, exchanging fashion tips. We played games. I was a customer at her pretend restaurant and a student in her pretend school. I let her try my guitar, and I listened to the song she made up. I was not the one telling her to brush her teeth, get dressed, or quiet down. We exchanged confidences and terrific hugs. Last summer, we were the ones who went swimming together while the grownups watched. I’m not ready to be one of the grownups. I’m the aunt. A long-distance one who doesn’t get to see them often enough, but an aunt nonetheless.

This trip, the younger kids were so busy playing with each other it was hard to get their attention, but still I could love and admire them and be amazed at all they had learned since the last time I saw them. I could brag about them. And soon I will go Christmas shopping for them because these kids give me a place in the world of children that I would otherwise miss.

When people talk about their grandchildren, I can talk about the nieces and nephews instead of just reverting to my own childhood or talking about dogs and cats. It feels good.

I told my brother how lucky he was to have this beautiful family. Bless his heart, he said, “Well, you’re part of it.”  

We are not all lucky enough to have siblings and nieces and nephews, biological or honorary. Sometimes being around other people’s kids painfully reminds us of the children we will never have. We may also feel awkward because we don’t have experience with young people unless we work with them as teachers, coaches or caregivers. It’s easier to avoid them, along with the adults who ask why, if you like kids so much, aren’t you having any?

You may not be able to relate to kids at this point in your childless life. The wound is too tender. Or maybe they just drive you nuts with their noise and unleashed energy. On my trip, I saw a family with three boys and a girl who jumped out of their car like they were shot out of a canon. As they headed into Applebee’s for lunch, I thought thank God I don’t have to deal with that. 

As the aunt, I can give them all a big hug and go off on my free adult way. But as they grow, they will become real people I can talk to and love and brag about as part of my family. Maybe they’ll even help me when I get old. Maybe not, but it’s possible. 

If you don’t have any siblings with children, it’s still possible to be an honorary aunt to your friends’ kids. You just have to show up with arms ready for hugging, ears ready for listening, and a heart ready to play. For the parents, you can be an extra set of hands, respite when they need a break, backup they can count on. 

If you’re not up to it, that’s okay. But if you are, grab the chance.  

Have you heard of The Savvy Auntie? Back in 2009, Melanie Notkin started an organization called The Savvy Auntie that has blossomed into books, blogs, merchandise, and all kinds of support for women without kids who embrace their aunt status. Check it out at SavvyAuntie.com.

Aunthood (and unclehood) is what you make it. You can have a close relationship, none at all, or something in-between. But at least it gives you something to talk about when people are going on about their children and grandchildren or when you’re Christmas shopping and want an excuse to hang out in the toy department. 

In literature, as in real life, there are good aunts and bad aunts (ditto for uncles). Auntie Em in “The Wizard of Oz” was nice enough. Who wouldn’t love Aunt Bea from the old “Andy Griffith Show?” But the aunt in Anne of Green Gables? She was mean. Let’s hope we’re the good kind, the aunts who love their nieces and nephews and can match any proud grandma’s stories with stories of their own. 

Further reading

Great Aunts of Literature | Book Riot

Aunts and Uncles in Literature: The Good, the Bad, and the Downright Evil

How about you? Are you an aunt or uncle? Do you enjoy it? Why or why not? I look forward to your comments. 

Photo by Gustavo Fring on Pexels.com

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I will be participating in another Childless Elderwomen’s chat on Zoom on Sunday, Dec. 15, at noon Pacific time. Our topic is solo aging, and we have a bang-up panel of women you will love. If you register here, you can join us live or receive the recording afterward. This is a webinar, so you will not be seen or heard on screen.

I highly recommend Jody Day’s Substack post “The 3am bag lady blues.” She addresses that fear of growing old alone that many of us share.

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Here Comes Christmas, COVID-Style

Sue Fagalde Lick Christmas without children, COVID-19, love over motherhood, Melanie Notkin , , , , , ,

I stood in line at the tiny South Beach post office yesterday to mail the last of my family Christmas gifts to California. The postmaster, working with her daughter and her baby granddaughter beside her, was exhausted. Far more people are mailing packages because, like me, they are not going to be with their families this year.

As the song goes, I’ll be home for Christmas. I’ll spend the day with the same friend who got me through Thanksgiving. We don’t want to cook this time. We’d go out, but COVID-19 has closed all the restaurants to indoor dining and we’re not going to eat in the rain. So we’ll get something to go or prepare something simple, exchange our gifts, and watch a movie. She has kids, but they’re far away. This will be her first Christmas since her husband died and her last one here in Oregon because she’s moving to California to be near her daughter. But this year, it will be us and Pandora the cat or Annie the dog—we haven’t decided which house we’ll be at yet.  

I will not watch my nieces and nephews and their children open the boxes from me to see if they love what I bought them as much as I do. The little ones probably won’t understand who I am. Since I was last able to see them, over a year ago, they have changed tremendously. They have learned to walk, talk and start to read. This makes me sad because I wasn’t there, but not nearly as sad as I might be if they were my grandchildren.

A friend from my church has never seen her grandbaby who was born in March. Some friends have taken the risk to visit their families and returned COVID-free, but that’s not how it always goes. I know too many people suffering from the virus, some in the hospital on ventilators. Where perhaps in normal times, their families would keep vigil at their bedsides, no one is allowed in. It doesn’t matter whether or not you have children now; you die with only hospital staff to hold your hand.

On a recent SheSpeaks podcast, Savvy Auntie founder Melanie Notkin reminded listeners of the importance of attitude. “Life is a struggle. It’s what you do with it.” So, she says, decide what you want to do with the life you have, not the one you didn’t have, and figure out the steps to move that life forward.

Meanwhile, send out your presents and be grateful for whatever you receive. If you are well enough to visit via Zoom or Skype, have fun with it. Feel free to wear funny hats, dress up the cats and dogs, or make a silly video. Be glad you don’t have to spend great swaths of time this year hanging out with relatives who are all about the children and don’t understand or sympathize with your situation. Just do the holiday your way. Zoom-watch church services from all over the world. Make burritos instead of cooking a turkey. Stay in bed all day or play in the snow. Watch an entire season of “The Crown” in one sitting.  

COVID is horrible. Our little coastal county has just been moved up to the “extreme risk” category. I know too many people with the virus, two of them in the hospital on ventilators. Little children like my great nieces and nephew will not remember a world in which big people didn’t wear masks. If we are alive and well, we must give thanks and enjoy the life we have been given, even if we never get the children we wanted to have.

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It’s here! Love or Children: When You Can’t Have Both has been published. After seven months and several title changes, I have gathered the best of the Childless by Marriage blog from 2007 to May 2020 into a book. If I had had any idea how difficult it would be to boil down more than 700 posts into a reasonable-sized paperback and ebook, I might not have done it. I mean, it’s there on the blog. You can read all the posts and the comments. It might take months, but you can. But what if the Internet disappears? It could, you know, and we have built something here worth saving. Sure, I started it, and I write the weekly posts, but it would be nothing without your comments. That’s why the cover says this book is by “Sue Fagalde Lick & Anonymous.”

During the month of December, if you email me proof of purchase for Love or Children along with your address to suelick.bluehydrangea@gmail.com, I will send you a copy of my previous book, Childless by Marriage, absolutely free, paperback in the U.S., Kindle overseas. If you already have Childless by Marriage, you can give it to a friend or I can send you one of my other books. See https://www.suelick.com/books for other possibilities.

Little-girl hug makes childless auntie happy

Sue Fagalde Lick childless aunts, Uncategorized , , , , , , , ,

Sue & Riley 62318Being an aunt is the best. You don’t have to earn it, justify it or explain it. Yes, there are honorary aunts, and I’ve got a relative who insists on dubbing all adult cousins “aunt” and “uncle,” so the kids grow up thoroughly confused, but I’m talking about real aunts (and uncles).

I just came back from my dad’s house in California. No Wi-Fi, hence no post last week. It was a challenging trip. I was originally going to attend my niece’s party to celebrate her birthday and the adoption of her little boy. But she got sick and had to cancel. I should have canceled, too, but I had already gotten the time off, and I had told my 96-year-old father I was coming. I put Annie in doggie jail and drove almost 700 miles to San Jose. The drive felt extra long. I was sleepy and tired as I dodged trucks, RVs, and cars on I-5. When I arrived, my father was in a terrible mood, but I did my best to help him, despite temperatures nearing 100 and no air conditioning. I was alarmed at how his health had declined in the two months since I saw him last. I cooked, cleaned, gardened, and assured him I would do whatever needed doing.

Early on the second morning, I woke up sick. Stomach flu. The sites online describe it as a sudden explosion, followed by a strong desire to die. Yes. Total output, fever, chills, aches, the works—on the hottest day of the year in San Jose. I lost six pounds in two days and wasn’t much help to my dad (who wasn’t much help to me). As soon as I could drag myself out of bed, I continued trying to help him. We fixed the bathroom sink, I pulled weeds, I cleaned the refrigerator (pleasantly cold), cooked, and washed dishes. I went to Jack in the Box and bought him a milkshake.  I listened to hours of stories about the old days on the ranch, in the Pacific during World War II, and on the job as an electrician. Eventually my stomach stopped threatening to erupt, and I could stand for more than a minute.

My brother came to visit with his son William and his two-year-old granddaughter Riley. My nephew explained to his little girl that I was “Papa’s big sister.” Riley has lots of aunts, including four with names that are variations of “Susan,” but I’m Papa’s only big sister.

Any doubts about whether I should have gone to California were erased when Riley came running to me with a big smile, arms open wide for a hug. Yes, aunthood is good. She’s at the age where she’s discovering the world and is rarely still or quiet. I’m glad I’m not responsible for her 24/7. I don’t understand half of what she says. But I loved interacting with her and watching her as she explored my dad’s backyard and got soaked playing with the sprinkler on that hot afternoon. And I loved spending time with her daddy, a giant of a man I remember as a funny little boy with glasses who didn’t mind hanging out with Aunt Sue.

Aside from our Saturday with the kiddos, it was just Dad and I, two people who usually live alone. I’m alone because of the whole widow-without-kids thing, but my father has two children, two grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren. He rarely sees any of them, doesn’t know when their birthdays are or what they care about. He expects nothing from them and offers nothing in return. Part of that is being a guy. Mom was the one who kept the family connections going. Part of that is the sharp-edged side of his personality that I have known all my life. Big sigh.

Dad is uncle to nine wonderful adults, along with their children and grandchildren. Again, not much connection. He talks a lot about his family history. He loved his Uncle Louie and his Uncle Walter. I don’t know what happened. I guess you make what you will of the opportunity.  I think you have to start when the nieces and nephews are young, offering your love, your time, and your interest in what interests them. The rewards can be great. And it’s way easier than being a step-parent.

I know sometimes it feels too painful to be around other people’s children. Perhaps seeing your siblings become parents just reminds you of what you’re missing. But if you’re lucky enough to be an aunt or uncle, don’t miss this chance to love and be loved by a little one.

For more about being a childless aunt or uncle, read Melanie Notkin’s book Savvy Auntie and check out her blog at the Savvy Auntie website. Ten years ago, Notkin established July 22 as Auntie’s Day, so if you can claim aunthood in any form, go celebrate.

Also visit my previous posts about being an aunt. “Free to Be Aunt Sue” is about my relationship with Riley’s daddy, William. “Learning How to Be a Great Aunt Sue” talks about my first time meeting Riley.

I welcome your comments on being an aunt or uncle. Also, do you say “ant” or “awnt?”