Telling her (December 2024)

A most precious jewel in the treasure that is my life’s baggage is my Aunty Sheila. When I moved back to the UK after 15 years away she, recognising that I was now grown up, asked if I would like to call my uncle and her Dave and Sheila. I was aghast at the thought! She is, and always will be, my Aunty. Aunty Sheila is like her whole name to me, with all the best connotations that being an Aunty has. She is someone who, despite her diminutive stature, I have looked up to all my life. 

Less than five feet tall and a tiny slip of a person, she has a heart as big as a lion’s, a warmth that is incredibly rare and a memory like a computer! She is a walking encyclopaedia of “on this day 55 years ago….,” of dates and tiny details. She pays attention like no-one else I know and that is because she cares about everything and everyone. 

To be loved by her is a privilege and I am lucky to be a recipient of her love. She touches countless lives, none more so than her husband of almost sixty years, the two sons she adores and her grandchildren. She has so many friends, most of whom are lifelong friends, that her mini-iPad and phone ping constantly with the daily conversations in which she takes part. She has scheduled conversations with people from all over the world so she can keep up with everyone. Her life is filled with love and goodwill from others that is absolutely deserved.

She is one of my precious bits of home. Her early adult life was spent in Dundee, as was my childhood, and it connects us to something that not many others in my life understand as she does. We also have a shared connection in our lives in Carlisle and my life here has been infinitely enhanced by my proximity to her. Nothing made me happier than to see their faces at my son’s wedding and to see that connection span the generations. 

My earliest childhood memory is my maternal grandmother telling off my grandad for teasing me by saying “och, David….leave that bairn alone!” Throughout my life I have heard my Aunty Sheila repeat the “och, David” part in exasperated tones to her own David when he has annoyed her! He has the most amazing twinkly brown eyes that are usually filled with mischief when she’s telling him off, but their chemistry is undeniable. To sustain that for a lifetime is a joy to witness and something I admire so much.

I can picture her so clearly in black cords, red t-shirt and red clogs in the 70s, in a pink jumpsuit with strawberry blonde curls in the 80s. She wore a pink dress with beads on the front on my wedding day in 1984 and a black skirt with a gold top on New Year’s Eve 1987!! When I picture her, she is always smiling. Although she has to reach up to hug most people, her hugs are all encompassing and they always make you feel better.

We have put the world to rights over many cups of tea, picnics, happy meals filled with laughter and camaraderie. She loves my husband like a son (the feeling is mutual!) and for that I love her even more. Not many people have empathy to such a level that they feel your pain and cry tears with you. My Aunty Sheila does. I know her presence in my life has made me a better person. She is a light in my life that I celebrate on this very special birthday of hers. I won’t say the number because, to me and everyone who loves her, she is ageless.