Farewell Great Aunt Wanda

I found out that my grandma’s sister passed on tonight. Great Aunt Wanda Yinger was almost like another grandma to me because she lived across the field from Grandma and Grandpa Hill’s house, and we saw her and Great Uncle John quite often growing up. We would sometimes walk across the field with cousins and climb through their fence and play over at the Yinger’s place. They had a wooden box with water and live crawdads in it. We always liked to go peek at the odd creatures. Dad told me that when Uncle John opened the lid to get some for their fishing trip, he’d wave his hand across the top and say, “Can I have a volunteer?” The unlucky crawdads would raise their claws.

I’d forgotten just how blessed I was as a child, to have so many gatherings, dinners and picnics with so much extended family. John and Wanda used to host a huge family picnic at their place every summer, where I’d see lots of cousins, 2nd cousins… er, once removed. I could never remember how I was related to everybody, but their faces were familiar and their laughs memorable. I remember Marlene, who I always got mixed up with Arlene, one year at the family picnic said to me, “You look like your mom.” But when I smiled, she saw my teeth and exclaimed, “You look like your dad!”

Uncle John passed on first. Aunt Wanda ended up moving to a small home on her son’s property which was still just across the field from Grandma and Grandpa’s. Then Grandma and Grandpa had to move to a care home and sell their house on the hill. I was in college around this time of events, but I still would go and visit my grandparents in the care facility and Aunt Wanda in her little home, across the field from the two houses that I missed going to.

I was always curious about stories of both grandma’s and Wanda’s childhood, stories of their families, how they met and fell in love with their husbands, their sisterly relationship. I was always fascinated about the fact that they used outhouses, and took turns using the same bath water in the tub, and all those things you imagine from the old west days almost. I once asked Grandma Hill if she and Wanda ever fought. She said that they shared a bed as girls, and she would get pretty mad at Wanda for eating crackers and getting crumbs in the bed.

Both grandma and Wanda used to hunt. One time when I was about 12, grandpa taught me to aim with a bb gun using the iron sight and I hit the bulls-eye the first time. He told me I was just like grandma, an “Annie Oakley.” I don’t know how good of a shot Aunt Wanda was, but judging by a picture I have, she was good enough to get a deer as well. Wanda married a man who loved to fish and her and John would take my dad out on their boat quite a bit. They were a pretty special aunt and uncle to my dad.

She was a pretty special great aunt to me as well. She was petite like my grandma, and had some similar expressions, though some very unique ones like saying “suppid”, meaning something. My mom said the Hills/Kays (grandma’s and Wanda’s maiden name was Kays) had some kind of country accent. A slow manner of speaking, which usually included the topic of most importance, the weather. When my grandma and grandpa passed on, I would still go visit Aunt Wanda and reminisce about the old days. She’d also listen to my adventures with work, college, and boys. And she’d always have a cookie on hand to give me. Just like grandma. I’d ask her if she had lunch, and she’d giggle and say she had a cookie. I think my grandma did that too towards later life. I wonder if I’ll follow suit? Probably. I have a sweet tooth for sure.

I was a bit sad that my grandma and grandpa Hill never got to see me marry the man we had wondered about, and never meet my children I had dreamed about. But I am glad that Aunt Wanda got to be at my wedding, and she got to meet both of my girls before she died.

Farewell, Aunt Wanda. You were a sweet, spunky, fun and wonderful lady. Thank you for being my friend, and friend to my dad and my grandma. I hope my daughters will be as close of sisters as you were with grandma. You will be missed.