Kiss My Great Aunt Fanny

Confession.  I do nor did I ever have a Great Aunt Fanny.

I had an Aunt Mary who was ALL KINDS of magnificent.
Aunt Mary is my Auntie role model.  Everything I know about Auntie-ing I learned from Aunt Mary.
She could balance a tea cup on her massive breats!  She rocked full figure.
I was enamored as a child  and after I grew up we developed a deeper relationship and she was even more awesome.  I saw her cut out a blouse pattern and sew it by HAND in an afternoon.

There was a cousin Franny and there was a Boo bouncing around the family tree, but no Fanny.
But
-honesly-
you DO know what I am saying, dontcha?

This morning I took Wesley on this morning walk before Jubilee left for school.  If I leave before 7: 45 my walk is in the shade.  I love shade.  Not all of it is in the shade.

I was wearing my, “Oh Lord, I am gonna sweat and I hate sweating!” clothes.  They fit close and are supposed to magically wick away puddles of perspiration.  They sorta work.

Passing between shadows the morning sun caught me from behind and there to the left and in front of me, N by NW, was my shadow!  I liked how the low angle of the sun elongated my physique.  From the inside of my head I look like that shadow.  Long and lean.

From the outside I am formerly 5’6”, currently 5’5”, and 175 pounds.  I have been 175 pounds since my bonus baby arrived 11 ½ years ago.  I am reconciled to 175.  I am less reconciled to outweighing my father-in-law by 40 pounds, but such is life!

My shadow melted back into the tree shadows and my mind took a meandering journey.

Carolyn.  Carolyn was one of my best friends.  She died when Peter was four months old.  Peter is 17.  I have lost a great many friends.  Carolyn is the only one who I still reach for the phone to call.

Carolyn was brilliant.  She was talented.  She was kind.  Carolyn could say things and I would hear her.

My shadow reminded me of one time when Carolyn came for a visit.  She would bring her embroidery scissor and snip knots from out Ribbons’, mane.  Ribbons, our black and white long haired cat with the spirit of a dog.  Snip.  Snip.  Snip.  Just a few hairs at a time.  She was so careful and gentle.

Ribbons loved Carolyn, too.

One visit I opened the door and she was so thin.  She looked great!  Just like a magazine model!
Carolyn had been away for treatment and my voluptuous curvy friend came home model thin.

She was sick.  Very sick and she looked magnificent.  We talked about it.  How horrifying that to look like the models, the ideal, one had to be dying.

What is wrong with us when death is our standard of beauty?

Wesley caught scent of a bunny and my mind wandered down its own rabbit trail.  Models.  Magazines.  Clothing.  Thin Within.  Thin Within is a women’s large size clothing catalog that showed up unsolicited in our mailbox.  UGH!

Husband David doesn’t rant or rail often but Thin WIthin set him off.   “Look at the name of this catalog.  Thin WITHIN! It is so offensive.  They are targeting large women and through the title insinuating that they can gain value by embracing their inner thin-girl.  That by wearing cloths offering the illusion of thinness they are okay!”

My misogyny radar is usually tightly tuned but I missed it.  David, deep thinker that he is, did not miss it.

I remember hearing conversations in both Poland and Ukraine that ran along the lines of, “How can she let herself be so fat?  Why doesn’t her husband leave her?”

Maybe she was THIN WITHIN! (She replied snarkily through clenched teeth.)

Look!  Geese migrating!  Migrating.  Migration.  Jonquel.  Jonquel and Kirkland moved from New Orleans to Atlanta to NYC.  Thriving.  Jonquel’s art is taking off.  Jonquel, her magnificent self and magnificent art.  Isn’t Jonquel the best name ever for an artist!      

Jonquel and her husband are Ruth and Matthew’s dear friends from SCAD Atlanta.  Jubilee and I stayed a couple times with them when we were in Atlanta to see Ruth.  Jonquel came to Ruth’s wedding and fixed Faith’s hair.  Her illustrations are all sorts of wonderful.  She is building her name painting curvy women.

Jonquel is a curvy woman.  Through her art she and others are seeing and embracing the beauty of curves.  I am so proud of my beautiful friend.

Death be afraid.

I am learning to embrace myself.  I have a way to go.  I have not worn a swim suit in years.  Before Jubilee was born I swam 3 to five miles a week.  In July for Josiah’s 21st birthday the entire family floated down the San Marcos River together.  Six kids, two spouses, and my spouse, David, the aforementioned feminist hero.  IT WAS AWESOME.

I could not even find my swim suit so  I wore my nifty sweat wicking pants and a long sleeved shirt.  I looked thin within.  SNORT!

I don’t look like my shadow.
Do I have to be a shadow of myself before I am acceptable to myself?
Am I playing into death’s game?

I DID eat a doughnut and a mini-cinnamon roll and almond and ginger cookies for lunch yesterday, but I had company so it doesn’t count.

Squirrel!

I am 55.  I am strong.  Mostly.  I compensate and find ways to work around the inconveniences of aches and pains.  Genetically speaking, I have another 40 years to go.  It is time to love myself and my body.  Within and without.

A shadow is not a good role model.
I don’t want to be a shadow.
I want to be the whole enchilada.

Hmmm.  Enchiladas.
Didn’t eat breakfast.
Wesley and I walked over a mile this morning.
(Uphill both ways!)

Gotta go.  Eat.