My mom and her three sisters, in my opinion, have some of the most diverse personalities. The same people raised them, yet they all developed so differently. I note this because I find, as my sister and I grow up, we become more and more similar. But I am unsure if my mom and her sisters can say the same most of the time.
Aunt Danielle
Aunt Danielle is the oldest of four kids. In between my mom and her youngest sibling, my Aunt Meg, there is Uncle Rob, their brother. It goes: Danielle, Jenny, Rob, Meg.
Aunt Danielle has all the traits of the eldest daughter. She is high-strung, a leader, and quite literally the glue. When we gather as a family, her house is the place we go to (usually). When there is a conflict, we go to Aunt Danielle. After our Gramps died, if it weren’t for Aunt Danielle, we probably wouldn’t pursue the traditions of Syrian cooking or Christmas Eve.
She creates Shutterfly photo books every year and gives them as presents. She coordinates family trips and outings. She books the reservations and orders the appetizers on behalf of everyone at the table once we have all decided.
Some of my fondest memories as a young girl are at Aunt Danielle’s. Specifically, those memories take place in 2012, when “Edge of Glory” by Lady Gaga was a radio hit and when the clothing store Justice was my jam.
While I was not born, I have heard plenty of stories about Danielle being the caretaker of her siblings when their mother uprooted and left her four children. Aunt Danielle was their safe place. Eventually, when Aunt Meg was a high schooler and prospective Bonaventure student, Aunt Danielle let Aunt Meg come live with her, even though she’d have a longer commute to her high school, her extracurriculars, and her friends.
Thank you, Aunt Danielle, for being the glue.
Aunt Meg
Also known as Aunt Moolosh to every single one of her nieces and nephews and all of my close friends.
Aunt Meg is the youngest of four siblings. She is a 2006 Bonaventure Alum. In every single text referencing Bonaventure, she queues up the yellow and brown heart emojis; yellow and brown were *her* St. Bonaventure colors.
I could write an entire article dedicated to how much I have looked up to Aunt Meg throughout my life. She has single-handedly shaped the woman I am today. Aunt Meg embodies the true spirit of a confident career woman, wife, and mom.
She always had the coolest clothes (she still does), and I always wanted to dress just like her. She introduced me to hot pink Ugg boots with fur on the inside and bows on the outside. Her 2000s apartment had pink and zebra print accents, so when I redid my childhood bedroom, I wanted pink and zebra pink accents too. She curled her hair with a straightener, so then I wanted to learn how to curl my hair with a straightener.
Today, she has a career as a therapist, where she helps people every single day in her solo business. She is the reason why I want to work as a teacher, in a field where I also get to help people every single day. I will never deny wanting to be just like her when I grow up.
To know Aunt Meg is to love her with all your heart. Her words and advice are a gift to all. Her emotional growth is one to admire; she works on becoming a better version of herself constantly. She sets an excellent example.
My mom
My mom, Jenny, is the second-in-command in the sibling line-up. She is Danielle’s younger sister, and Meg’s older sister.
If there’s one word to describe my mom, it’s “selfless”. I don’t remember the last time that woman bought a new outfit for herself. Or new shoes. Or new anything that was for her (and only her) to enjoy.
The reason holidays still feel magical in my 20s is because of her decorating. The attention to detail in her Christmas decor is for her family to enjoy. It takes her days to assemble it, and she definitely doesn’t do it for herself. She does it for us.
My mom knows a lot about what it’s like to raise daughters. She dealt with the earlier years of my life when my sister and I did not get along at all. She shed tears over it in private, I imagine.
She manages the finances and every chore inside the house. She does so and chugs along through every aliment. I remember when I was in middle school and she got her gallbladder removed, she was up and moving around the house probably way too quickly.
My mom is the type of person who knows she needs a break, her body is giving her all the signs, yet she continues to put forth effort in her to-do list. Always 110%. Always.
She takes pride in her cozy house. So much so that she never wants to leave. We all poke fun at her for this, but she spends countless hours each week making sure everyone is stable and ok before she can begin to evaluate herself. So, who can blame her? Maybe I wouldn’t want to leave my house either.
I hope, as time marches on, I become more like my mom when it comes to caring deeply about those I love and doing acts of service for them. In moderation. Mom, I love you, but everything is in moderation. You need to give yourself more grace.
In honor of International Women’s Day, thank you.
This is an ode to the strong women who raised me and continue to do so. While my mom and her sisters are worlds different, though they have the same laugh and it freaks me out, they remain similar in their intense kindness, dedication to their family, and their outpouring love in every single thing they do.
I love you all!