Why Aunt Jessey?
a tribute and a call for returning to the village
In the Virginia hills of Appalachia in the 1980s a little girl was surrounded by family, love, and chaos. As she grew she realized this was not the norm for everyone. Most families around were two parents and one or two siblings. Hers was parents, step parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, all sleeping at different people’s houses, eating together, vacationing together, and supporting each other.
In a world where hyper independence was the only goal, the family was very interconnected, out of financial necessity but also a sense of tradition and keeping each other close. Cousins were akin to siblings and best friends. Parents trusting the people they already knew to help raise the kids and make similar decisions they would. People worked while others watched the children, they came together at least weekly for big meals, and on holidays the house was rocking- packed wall to wall with people, more food than anyone could finish, and always leftovers to take home. When a teenager had her parents in absolute fits she’d go spend a week with the aunt or the grandmother. Sometimes longer. The women raised the kids together. They leaned on each other. They all shared stories and lessons. They had space for their own interests. And when Mamaw needed help with her house, her bills, her care, the family stepped up and worked together to help her out. She had no idea how lucky she was, and how short lived it would be for her.
As children we have no control over where we spend our time and who with. So eventually I was separated from our village, due to family animosity, sibling rivalry, and jealous spouses, as far as I can tell. The typical family feuding. But my aunt always remained an anchor for me. Recently, I lost her. My second mom. My soul family.
She was the linchpin. She hosted the holidays, raised kids she did and did not birth, and taught me personally so many lessons about life and family. Even when I didn’t feel so much a part of it anymore I still had her, and my uncle, always willing to do anything to help. Watch the kids, give us a safe place to land, a funny story, a joke, and a hand on the shoulder that said you’re gonna be ok no matter what because I will never let you fall.
I realize that she created her village and held us within it as long as she could. She understood that helping each other out would always be more important than stubborn ideas and patriarchal expectations. She volunteered for the PTA, donated money to things she found important, and oh did I mention ran a business that employed over 40 people nearly the whole time (and never even went to high school)? She and my uncle taught me how to preserve food, and the best gifts were the ones they sent from their garden and pantry. My kids loved her green beans. She spoke her mind freely, lived for her family, and chased several different creative hobbies over the years.
I look to her while trying to work up the courage and follow through, and to give my kids the village I have missed for some time now. It is difficult when we don’t know who to trust and are all so divided these days. How do we find that found family we love to read about (one of my favorite tropes)? None of my family lives within a 20 minute drive and after college all of our friends moved away. I can’t force family members to move, but I have extended the invitation.
We start by showing up more for the people we already have. Make the drive more often, make it a priority. Before you know it they aren’t there anymore and all that you’re left with are the memories of the times you thought about going for a visit.
I want to bring food presents to my neighbors. It maybe a small act, but it’s a start. I’d also love to give more food that I grow on the farm to the community as a whole- and maybe that’s a separate article in itself.
And so I sign my articles like a letter from your aunt. The one who took you to your first concert, fed you, loved you, entertained you, had the best advice, and somehow prioritized you while having a full and busy life. The aunt who believed in you but also told you when you could do better. The one who bought your terrible art, read all of your stories, followed all of your social media accounts and liked everything you ever posted. Maybe she used to tease her hair high and paint her long nails metallic purple- chase you around the house like a wicked witch- both terrifying and maybe the most fun that ever happened to a six year old. The aunt who gave me a village and showed me the way, or at least a start. I smile every time I write it, and think of her, and if you get it, maybe you will think of someone the same way.
With Love,
Aunt Jessey
If you’d like to donate to storm disaster relief I’m including this link to The Y’all Squad, a nonprofit which helps victims of weather disaster. From what I’ve seen and read, they are reliable and actually help communities in the most need without delay. I have no affiliation with them. I hope you are warm and safe today. Donate
Currently…
Writing
I surpassed 37k words on my small town romance this morning!
My daily goal is 3000 words and I fell short while the kids were out of school due to snow and ice (two very long weeks), but I’m making a comeback. I’ve met it the past two days, and I’m feeling confident. My goal for February is to finish the first draft of Project Wild.
Substack goals are to post articles weekly, though I have a feeling I’ll be easing in more than originally intended. Thanks for hanging in there with me!
Making
Loaves of sourdough bread. I tried a new recipe that’s very simple and works better with my dry starter. So far my nine year old has made the best one under my instruction. The key? Forgetting about it for an extra hour between stretch/folding and shaping for the final rise.
Brownies and nachos for the Super Bowl, also root beer and cream soda ice cream floats, which I hadn’t had in decades. Kudos for me for the idea and to husband for picking up all the supplies. If you have a great homemade brownie recipe you love send it my way. I’m still searching.
Watching
Josh Johnson comedy clips and Daily Show clips with John Stewart.
The Opalite music video. I love how she keeps bringing her dancers back for her new videos and I hope that never ends because I love them. Also it’s hilarious.
The Seahawks win the Super Bowl and Bad Bunny created an amazing half time show.
Listening
I just discovered Mon Rovîa, an Afro Appalachian who put out his debut album last year. It is listed as folk music and I’m loving it so far for those quieter moments.
Reading
Finished A Grim Reapers Guide to Catching a Killer by Maxie Dara: a murder mystery combined with the supernatural. I liked it. 3/5 stars. Narrator was pretty good. We Who Will Die by Stacia Stark: Romantasy that failed on the longing and intimacy portion of romance and also has a very familiar storyline for three of the main characters-ACOMAF- but the setting, magic system, and vampire element were all different and original feeling. Good narrator. 3/5 stars. A Marriage at Sea by Sophie Elmhirst: (nonfiction) true story of a shipwrecked couple stranded in the Pacific Ocean, set in the 1970s. 4/5 stars.
Currently rereading Dreamgirl Drama by Tessa Bailey and for the first time reading A Proposal They Can’t Refuse by Natalie Caña. Loving it.
Upcoming
TBR- TO BE READ next:
Buddy Read finally reading Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi. I tried it in audio a while ago but kept getting tripped up over the accent so I’m going to read this one in print and am very excited because I’ve been wanting to read this series for years.
Next on my library loans The American Revolution by Geoffrey C Ward and Ken Burns (this book is $75-what!?!?!), The Creative Act by Rick Rubin, and Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston, and the next two Natalie Caña books in the series.
Visual Artist I’m Obsessing Over
I’ve been really digging JW Waterhouse again since The Fate of Ophelia video came out. Neo Raphaelite art has always been undervalued in my opinion. I think it’s beautiful, and it’s often dismissed as shallow and surface level. I and am glad to see it reemerging in pop culture. What is art and does it always have to do something specific? Should there be rules or can things just be allowed to make you happy and appreciate beauty and skill?*
My favorites are The Soul of a Rose, Nymphs Finding the Head of Orpheus, and Circe Invidiosa. I love mythology, folklore, and Shakespeare, so these fall into my wheelhouse. Look at the softness of her skin, the way her fingers bend against the wall, the loose flower petals of the roses, the fabric draping along the legs of the nymphs. Gorgeous.
*
I once had an art teacher tell me that art had to be profound. If it wasn’t profound it wasn’t art, and there was no room for anything less than profound in his beginning level sculpture class. Terrifying. There is a difference between art and craft, and personally I believe often craft requires a much higher skill level. It becomes fine art when craft is fused with the profound, maybe. But if you look around at fine art today, I’m not seeing a lot of profound, you know what I mean? I’m sure some of it is. But let’s not be snobs about it.