Everyone Needs an Auntie Esther

Esther is on the far left next to her brother, Carl.

Today my Aunt Esther would have been 110 years old. She was always so proud of the fact she saw Haley’s Comet pass by earth twice in her lifetime. She was six years old when it made the appearance on her birthday in 1910 and then seventy-five years later in 1986. The stars fascinated her and she loved the birth of the US space program.

Esther was my dad, Iver’s older sister. Words fail me at times to describe this woman. She basically had a heart of gold…if she liked you. But, she could be meaner than spit if she took a notion. She never married. Rumor in the family had it there was a very nice boyfriend at one time but when she met his mother and sister she insulted them so badly he never took her out again! Her insults were legendary, not to mention her personal questions that would pop out with no second thought on her part. There was no filter on Aunt Esther, none at all.

She lived in Minneapolis, wore a mink coat all the years I knew her, generally had a pillbox style mink hat to go with it, and was mugged twice in the early ’60s while living on Franklin so Iver moved her to Horn Towers where she was safer.

She was as round as she was tall. Always wore a scarf around her throat alá Vivian Vance and generally preferred skirts and blouses or suits to dresses. She dressed the part of a successful businesswoman when in reality she was always on the hunt for the next secretarial job. Her work record wasn’t stellar as she had the habit of interfering with either her boss’s business or was stirring up trouble among the other employees. Shortly she would be out the door looking for new employment. This was her professional life cycle and Iver would slip her a few dollars to get her through until the next payday.

Esther always carried a Dayton’s shopping bag with her. No matter where she went the bag went along. In the depths of this bag was an extra wig (from the late 50s on I never saw her without a wig), a box of Fanny Farmer candy, a couple scarves and an extra pair of ladies ‘snuggies’ (thermal underwear) or whatever other extra items the weather or day’s events called for. She also carried a purse that was overflowing with hankies, red lipstick, hard candy and at least two compacts of powder and rouge. She carried extra bus tokens (she never owned a car), a green stamp book, her coin purse, a wallet bulging with receipts and her Dayton’s card. Her Dayton’s card was her one attempt at being ‘society’. It was her magic key to the kingdom of those that could shop and actually charge items at Dayton’s. The early ones in the 50s were made of paper. Years later they were converted to plastic and could be used at Target, also. Esther never admitted to shopping Target but we knew she did, it was just a secret we all kept for her sake.

Esther and my mother tolerated each other. And that was on good days. I don’t think Esther ever approved of any of the women that married her brothers. She would sniff with disdain when discussing one sister-in-law behind the back of the other one. But, don’t turn around too quickly or you were next. She never agreed with the parenting techniques of her brother’s wives and I am sure my mother fell in with that lot. For a single woman with no children, she was loaded with child-rearing ideas. However, for some odd reason, she always thought my husband and I managed that role just fine.

Esther was also the family historian. She knew the relatives backwards and forwards and sideways. She would pull out the scrapbooks, photo albums and boxes of newspapers and clippings and recite all the families, their perch on the family tree and what importance they had brought to the family and the world. About thirty minutes into one of these recitals I would be the only child left at her side. Her stories fascinated me. The pictures came alive and I could hear the voices of the elders.

Monument by Lake Alice in Fergus Falls Names of the victims of the Cyclone

Esther survived the tornado of 1919 in Fergus Falls but never spoke about it. They lost their home in that storm. Her sister, Alma died from her injuries. Esther was quite a talker but she never wanted to tell any stories about the dark days after that life-altering storm. In later years I did get Iver to talk about the tornado (or as it was referred to at the time, ‘the cyclone’) however, I never once heard Esther utter a word about that storm. Alma had been her closest sister and then she was gone. I think this tragedy haunted Aunt Esther the rest of her life and may have been the reason she sabotaged all the relationships that looked like they could be lasting and loving.

My kids were fortunate enough to meet Aunt Esther. She was good to them and always sent them little treats and gifts for Christmas. By that time she was living on a small social security check and had a hard time making ends meet. Her health was beginning to suffer but she stayed in her apartment and wrote her opinionated letters to congressmen, senators, newspapers and magazines. She loved her politics and the Republican Party. I sent her pictures of the kids, candy, scarves or whatever I thought she might like.

There were times she drove me crazy with her demands but in the end, I realized she was often lonely and just needed family. Esther was having more health problems so I stopped by when I was in the metro area and bought her groceries, took her shopping and picked up her meds. Her final months were spent in a nursing home where she continued to insult the help, pick on the other residents and generally turned the place on its ear. There was nothing I could do but listen to the complaints from the social worker and suggest they find her a new roommate, move her to a different floor or just put up with her like the family had for years. In the end she remained there and they attempted ‘behavior modification’. I still chuckle when I think of that ill-advised move. It was not successful.

Her final hours were spent dying on my birthday. I received the call that evening after I came home from a birthday dinner. I thought ‘how fitting, she always got the last word’. The next day I began the arrangements as no one else in the family would see to it. The true irony was that all those related to her by blood refused to deal with the final arrangements of her earthly remains so the one adopted into that clan was chosen to see her out.

Esther now rests back in Fergus Falls in the Bethlehem Cemetery, next to her father and mother. She lived life on her own terms and left her opinions of life behind. She was quite a woman. And, thank heavens there was only one.