My childhood was less than ideal.  A broken home, alcoholism and emotional abuse were a part of the hand I was dealt at a very early age.  As a result, the bright spots of that period in my life were few.  But among the few I did have, there was one that was absolutely brilliant—Auntie Jane.

Auntie Jane had a name for childhoods like mine.  She referred to them as “Dysfunctionpalooza.”  She recognized it and knew it well because she had lived a version of it herself. But somehow, in spite of her own difficult youth, she had been able to emerge with a passion for living and compassion for those that were merely alive.

She was a true force of nature.  There was a part of her that was a bit unconventional, never letting the opinions of others influence her behavior.  She was known to do things like drive too fast, wear unique clothing and sport asymmetrical hairstyles.  However, her non-conformity never took on the characteristics of self-centeredness.  She would give a complete stranger the shirt off her back even if it left her bare-breasted.  Then again, maybe she would do it because it left her bare-breasted, but no matter.  It was all a part of her mesmerizing charm and her amazing ability to hold onto “stuff” lightly.

Though as incredible as her independent ways were, they were not the reasons I loved her.  I loved her because she had an ability to see me rather than the circumstances I was in.  When others observed a messy domestic situation and chose to tip-toe away from it, Auntie Jane saw me--my need for stability--and stayed involved when permitted.  Though she was at a loss to be my rescuer, focusing on me rather than the circumstances kept her in the game.   

I am reminded of this when I recall how more than once my mother, sister and I showed up on her doorstep in the dead of night due to problems between my step-father and mom.  In spite of the fact that my mother was frequently hostile when it suited, Auntie Jane never turned us away.  In spite of the fact that this problem was recurring, she never turned us away.  I am certain that the only reason her door remained unconditionally open was because she saw me rather than the inconvenience of the people with me and the hopelessness of the world crashing down around me.

I know that many times she wished she could do more, and her impotence was a source of frustration for her.  The boundaries set by parental rights demand a certain degree of respect (even if a niece does dwell in Dysfunctionpalooza), and Auntie Jane gave it the respect it was due.  But somehow, she still managed to find ways to reach out, love me and impact me for life.

Your support is so needed

Often, it was the little things she did that captured my heart, like stealing away from grown-up conversation to play Hungry Hungry Hippos.  Sometimes it was a token of love she presented like a stylish outfit she had sewn herself.  Occasionally it was a loving gesture like speaking the words “You are the daughter I never had” when my own mother had recently expressed, “I wish you were never born.”  Through all these ways, Auntie Jane relayed that when I really needed her, she would be there.  That type of message carried a lot of power when I felt most powerless.

I tip my hat to Auntie Jane and the savvy aunties like her in the world.   On behalf of all the nieces and nephews engulfed in Dysfunctionpalooza, I want to affirm that you provide a support system that is desperately needed.     

What you do is commendable.  The burden of Dysfunctionpalooza is not necessarily yours to bear, but you have chosen to make the load a little lighter for a person that finds it too hard to carry alone.  You also do this under challenging circumstances.  Not being the parent, you find subtle and cunning ways to extend your lifeline since you cannot simply take the reigns in hand.   

But should you be tempted to believe it is not enough, I am here to tell you this simply isn’t so.  Your perseverance, your example, serves as an inspiration to the eyes that are watching you.  You are playing a critical role in shaping a life that is struggling to take form.  Don’t think for a second that this life is not powerfully affected by the nurturing sustenance you supply.   

And when you are frustrated, see the child--not the circumstances.  This will be the thing that keeps you from giving in to despair.  The circumstances may be beyond redemption, but the child is not.  You, however, are needed to convince him or her of this fact.