Crazy Aunt Battie

My name is Beth Ann Bradley. I’m presently 23years old. My spinster aunt was 50 years old when she took me in after her youngest sister, my mother, Lorraine Bradley was killed at a bus stop in Falcon Falls, Missouri during a robbery for only $30.00 from her purse. Police believe she had put up a fight and had refused to let go of her purse. He shot her once in the heart. She died immediately.

I was only three years old and was staying with Mrs. Martin, a neighbor, while my mother was working. Mrs. Martin received the call from the police. She contacted my aunts from an address book that my mother had shown her in case of an emergency. My mother had two sisters, she called my Aunt Myra. Her twins, Artie and Eva, age 7 at that time, both were spoiled and needy. Their home was large and they were rich but didn’t want to care for the grieving child that might negatively influence their perfect children. The oldest sister is my Aunt Battie. She immediately drove from Virginia to pick me up in Missouri as soon as the court allowed her full guardianship.

Aunt Battie was always the subject of town gossip. She was viewed as an eccentric, old woman. She didn’t care or try to change their opinions. Her home was a small wood framed house painted a bright yellow with neat white trim. I loved it. My father had abandoned my mother as soon as he found out she was pregnant. They were never married. I was grateful that Aunt Battie was the Aunt that gave me a home.

Our home was always cheerful and reminded me of yellow daisies. The little house had three, small, cozy bedrooms, and one bathroom. The kitchen was small but designed to utilize every square foot. The appliances were old, but worked well. We didn’t have a television. I did have a laptop for school work. Aunt Battie listened to news and weather reports on an old radio that had belonged to her father from the 50s.

We had walls of books on bookshelves that Aunt Battie had built herself. In the basement was a washer and dryer and a wall that held her work table. She had a huge assortment of costly tools inherited from her father.

Aunt Myra had wanted nothing to do with anything from her father except money from the sale of his farm and a small savings he had kept for emergency farm needs. Aunt Battie didn’t care about the farm or the money. She just wanted his tools and some of his handmade furniture. Aunt Battie had also inherited her father‘s talent for woodworking and building things. It took Aunt Myra less than a year to breeze through all that money.

What people didn’t know about Aunt Battie was that she also had a masters degree in mechanical engineering. She had worked for a large corporation, advancing from a starter position right out of college to a partnership offer in the corporation five years later. She turned down the promotion offer and after 20 years she retired. She finally admitted to herself that she hated corporate life. Soon she bought her little wood, framed house and started remodeling and repairs.

After settling in she started taking orders for hand built furniture and repairs. She supported us with furniture sales. We were not rich but she had a study customer flow. We lived comfortably. I learned to be frugal and how to manage money when I was a teenager. I got my first job at a local family owned department store. It was a good teenager job where I made $130 a week. I worked three hours per day four days a week. It was perfect for me to keep my studies up and still have time for friends and school activities.

Aunt Battie encouraged me to open a savings account. I respected her advice. We set up a savings account at the bank for me. We made a deal. I would deposit as much of my weekly pay as I wanted into the savings. She agreed to add an equal amount into the account. I was amazed that at the end of the year, I had almost $2000 in my account. I had been thrifty using only around $30.00 of my pay for personal spending and the remaining $100 was deposited into savings,

I used my spending money for movie nights with friends, a new lip gloss for myself and birthday gifts throughout the year. One birthday, I wanted to give Aunt Battie something special. I paid for her a spa day and a full beauty makeover. She first said she’d never do that. She said she was plain and always had been. She agreed after a lot of talking. I went with her. She looked so relaxed and her skin was glowing after the spa treatment. Next, the makeover. She insisted on only light makeup because she didn’t want to look like a clown. I laughed. She insisted on keeping her long hair. As she aged her hair was salt and pepper gray. Karla, her hairdresser, patiently explained that she would cut it to a shoulder length bob and that Aunt Battie could still pull back in a low ponytail to wear while she was working. I also talked her into getting her hair colored. Her natural color was light brown and I knew that color would make those beautiful, green eyes pop. Karla turned my aunt’s back to the mirror so she would be surprised when her makeover was done.

I was so excited and prayed that she would like it. Karla slowly turned her chair around to face the mirror. When Aunt Battie saw herself she let out a surprise cry. Do you like it, Aunt Battie? She put a hand up to her mouth and laughed. I hadn’t heard her laugh like that in years. She reached around and grabbed my arm. She said she loved it and thanked me over and over. I released a breath that I had not known that I had been holding. I hugged her tightly after she stood up from the chair. She looked twenty years younger.

I told her now we’re going to be Vereen’s Dress Shop to get her a new Sunday church outfit. Again she protested saying I had already done too much. I whispered to her, don’t you want Margaret Booker to see the new you in church? Aunt Battie smiled mischievously, grabbed my hand and said, let’s go!

At Vereen’s shop, when she saw us she said had almost not recognized Aunt Battie. Aunt Battie blushed a hot pink. She definitely was not used to compliments. I explained to Verleen that Aunt Battie needed a new church outfit that flattered the “new” her. Vereen’s eyes lit up like fireworks. She went to get what she said was the perfect dress. She brought out a gorgeous lavender dress with a flowing skirt and a lavender lace collar. This dress color was feminine and perfect for Aunt Battie. She tried it on and came out of the dressing room for our opinion. We both gasped as we saw a beautiful, younger looking woman that was our new Aunt Battie. She was staring at her image and was twirling around. I knew she obviously was in love with the dress. Vereen said she had shoes and a handbag that would match the outfit. Aunt Betty said she didn’t need new shoes. She had black flats that would be fine. Vereen and I glanced at each other. I knew those shoes were probably at least twenty years old. I asked Aunt Battie to at least try on some new shoes.

Aunt Battie conceded and took a seat in the shoe area, Verlene returned with two boxes of shoes. The first pair was a pair of black flats similar to the ones she had at home. She tried them on but gave no comment and picked up the next pair. This pair were white low wedge heel sandals. I loved them. Her first comment as she walked around in them was that they were so comfortable. She picked the white sandals. Vereen showed us the matching white, leather clutch purse with a gold handle. We took it too.

Next we stopped at Thrifty Mart. I bought Aunt Battie makeup to recreate her look on Sunday. I also bought her a birthday cake. We grabbed burgers and took them home for dinner. After our burgers we ended up eating two large pieces of cake as we looked over the our purchases.

Time went by so quickly. Soon I was 18 and I graduated with honors from high school. I received a partial scholarship, housing or meals were not included. I worried about those expenses. Aunt Battie still sold her furniture line, but had cut back as she had gotten older. I had decided to use my own savings to buy a used car that I needed for transportation at college and pay for admission fees and books. I worried about my living expenses. Aunt Battie told me not to worry because she would cover everything else. I thanked her, but I didn’t to use more of her hard earned money. I told her I was planning on getting a part-time job. She said she’d still put money in my account if I needed more.

I found a cheap used car that was owned by a mechanic. He guaranteed it was in good shape and good on gas. I had been accepted as a nursing student at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville. I was thrilled I’d still be able to go home to Madisonville, to stay close to Aunt Battie. She is 73 now.

I nervously entered college. My classes became routine, but fun. My trips to visit Aunt Battie were usually about three weeks apart. My college graduation was at the end of May. At the age of 77, Aunt Battie wasn’t driving anymore so the day before my graduation, I drove to pick her up.

I reserved a very nice hotel room because my roommates in our apartment were loud and very messy. I love them but knew it would be too much for aunt Battie. She was used to privacy and her quiet home. She couldn’t believe how nice the hotel was. She asked how I could afford something so expensive. I told her that Aunt Myra had sent me a generous amount of money on a gift card. I was so shocked that I believed they had made a mistake. Aunt Battie gave me a crooked grin and said it’s about time. We both laughed. I had arranged for transportation service to bring her to the college auditorium. I didn’t want her to have to sit for such a long time waiting for the graduation to begin. After the ceremony, we went to celebrate over dinner. Me, Aunt Battie,and two of my friends met at an elite restaurant. The food was delicious. We talked about our future plans. I told them about my new job at UVA Hospital. We exchanged promises to keep in touch. We left

when I noticed that Aunt Battie was getting tired.

Back at the hotel she exclaimed over and over how proud she was of me then she went straight to bed. I was still too excited to sleep so I read and answered messages. About an hour later, I finally felt sleepy and headed for bed. First, I leaned over and kissed Aunt Battie on her cheek being careful not to wake her up but she slowly reached over and gave my hand a little pat. I pulled the covers up over her shoulders and went to bed.

The next morning I woke up earlier than usual, still excited about the previous days events. Aunt Battie was still sleeping. It was about 5:30 AM. Aunt Battie usually didn’t get up until 7:00. I grabbed some clothes for the day and took a shower. I called room service and ordered a big breakfast and coffee. Our food arrived quickly. It smelled delicious. I took a quick sip of my coffee then went to wake up Aunt Battie by softly calling her name and gently nudging her shoulder. She didn’t move or wake up. I tried again a little harder as my nurses training clicked in. I checked for breathing. Nothing! I checked for her pulse. Nothing! Her face was pale,light blue pallor. I dialed 911 as I started CPR. The EMT’s arrived quickly and took over CPR as they loaded her into the ambulance. We rushed to the hospital. I had grabbed her purse and mine before jumping into the back of the ambulance. With tears streaming down my face, I prayed she’d be alright. They continued working on her and we soon arrived at the ER entrance. A doctor was waiting for us and led the EMT’s into a curtained examining room. I was not allowed to join them.After about 20 long minutes the doctor came out and quietly told me that they had been unsuccessful in attempts to revive her. She had suffered a massive heart attack and had died peacefully, most likely feeling no pain.

The doctor and nurses left me alone with her. I was sobbing so hard I could hardly breathe. I laid my head on a frail shoulder and cried until I had no more tears. I finally sat up and just held her hand. I was thinking of what a wonderful person she was and how lucky I had been to have her as my parent. She was kind, strong, and the most hard-working person I’ve ever known. A very kind nurse brought me a cup of tea and a box of tissues. She told me to take as much time as I needed. I sipped tea and started to regain my composure. I asked for the hospital family counselor

I met with her in a small office on the first floor. Her name was Jane Booker. Her voice was soft and soothing. I brought Aunt Battie’s purse with me. I knew she would need insurance cards, Social Security, and other information. I pulled the old leather wallet from her purse. I found all the information. Jane left to make copies and print forms for my signature. I noticed a bright yellow envelope tucked inside the purse and pulled it out.

I was surprised to see my name handwritten in her slanted script. I found a note sealed inside. It started,

My sweet, sweet Beth, you’ve been the best niece that any aunt could ask for. You are my heart. I’m sorry to leave you now, but I know how well prepared you are to start your best life. I’m so proud of the young woman you’ve become and I know you’re destined to be a great nurse. When you go back to the house, look behind the mirror over my dresser. There you will find another yellow envelope like this one taped to the wall. This will take care of any expenses, not covered by insurance. Also payments for funeral arrangements as needed, and where I want to be buried. I love you and now get on with your life. Aunt Battie. Below she added, “By the way, my full name is an old family name, Battemia Eloise Bradley. Battie was a nickname my daddy gave me.” I actually laughed after reading that.

I realized that I had never asked her about her real name. I just knew she knew her as Aunt Battie. I always thought she was called Battie because so many people, including my aunt Myra, thought she was a little crazy. At her request, I arranged for her funeral, to be only a small graveside service in Madisonville. I found the hidden yellow envelope, but waited until after the funeral to open it. After the crowd of people had left from condolences and casseroles, I kicked off my shoes, elevated my tired feet and pulled out the letter to read. It felt heavy inside. There was a letter and a bank book.

I had not been aware that she had an account at this bank. I opened the blue bank book. It had yellowed pages and appeared to be worn from years of use. The first page was the usual name, date of birth address and account number. It was a savings account not a checking account. The first deposit she had made was for $3000 deposited 50 years ago when Aunt Battie had started working at the large corporation as a mechanical engineer. She continued the deposits and had increased the amounts as her salary increased over twenty years. She retired and the final deposit was $100,000. The total amount of deposits with interest had accumulated for 50 years. I lost my breath when I read the a

total amount was now just over $990,000. I choked on a sip of tea. I set up straight and read the amount again she had a fortune saved, but never used any of it.

The letter went on to explain, being thrifty, she had plenty of money to live on, and even with the large savings account balance, she had chosen not to tell me because she wanted me to learn how to manage my own money just as her father had taught her.

In her will, I was her only heir, and would receive all of her belongings, including the house, both funds from the two bank accounts and $75,000 funds from her life insurance policy. I did not know about the will, although I was not surprised that she had written one.

Life is complex and sometimes changes happen that you never saw coming. Make everyday count.