Friday, April 06, 2007

Friday's child

Contemplating my life, gently.

This little note came to me from my Aunt H. (my mother's sister) many years ago. She was a very strong influence in my life. She breezed in and out of my childhood in a whiff of Coty and beautiful handkerchiefs. When I was in boarding school, she sent me pretty clothes from Galeries LaFayette, encouraged me to always read, to write, to be polite and discreet ("Il faut toujours être discrète").

She was strict too -- when I presented her with my first byline, she said: Fine, but I want to see your book next. When I started drawing and watercoloring, she said: Fine. But I want to see you loosen up and paint outside the box. (Although she did express delight that I could draw.) She encouraged me to see, really see, and to love beautiful things.

She had great friendships with famous people, but you would never know it; rather, you would stumble upon that knowledge. She was strong and independent. She survived the war in Brussels as a student at the Université Libre de Bruxelles; her stories would make you shiver. One of her fellow-students, Amir Abbas Hoveida, went on to become the last prime minister of Iran. Together, with a bunch of other students, they tried to walk to Paris; they reached the Maginot Line before they were pushed back to Brussels. Years later, when Hoveida was executed, she was devastated. He didn't flee the country, she told me, he stayed because he had done nothing wrong, his pockets were empty.

After a lifetime in Paris, she returned to Brussels.

A few Aprils ago, she left us, the eldest of her generation, and the last to go, leaving behind her a very rich life. And yet, her one regret was that she had lost her little sister, my mother, at such a young age without having sent her something my mother had asked her for. It was the only time I saw her cry. When, following a feeling I had, shortly before her death, I took the next flight to Brussels, I visited her in the hospital and she asked me: What will happen when I die? And I said: You'll be back with your mother and father and brother, and my mother, and you will never cry again.

I miss her.

6 comments:

  1. Oh my goodness, that was really moving. She must have been an exquisite person. I think we each get one in our lifetime, if we're very lucky, and hopefully we appreciate them while they're here. It sounds like you certainly did, she must have loved you dearly :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Wishing you and your family a happy and blessed Easter

    ReplyDelete
  3. What a beautiful tribute to your aunt. Now I know where you received your strength and character and grace... You were blessed to have her in your life. Your mother and aunt and grandmother were extraordinary women, and so are you dear friend. What a proud legacy. What a fantastic life she lived! Easter blessings to you Colette! xxxooo

    ReplyDelete
  4. what an amazing legacy you come from dear Colette. she sounds like she quite an extraordinary woman, as are you. I think your story should be written because it seems you've lived many lifetimes already. This was a lovely tribute to her, albeit bittersweet.
    Love and light,
    Lisa
    XOXO

    ReplyDelete
  5. Colette, this beautiful tribute to your aunt brought a tear to my eye. Quel histoire! xo

    ReplyDelete
  6. a beautiful memory, dear Colette - but, remember she is still with you - in the 'whiff of Coty and beautiful handkerchiefs', in the memories you have tucked away. Just close your eyes and she is there. love & many blessings to you, always xo

    ReplyDelete

Thank you so much for taking the time to comment. I really appreciate each and every one of you.