Auntique Therza

My Aunt Therza was one of my father's younger sisters, and she was my favorite aunt. Aunt Therza and Uncle Mark lived on a farm which abutted the Jefferson National Forest in the Appalachian Mountains. Their property was in Virginia, but the Tennessee border was just a short distance away. I loved to visit their farm, and would spend hours walking through their fields and pastures, climbing higher without looking back. Then, when I reached the edge of the forest, I would turn around to see a beautiful valley spread before me. I liked following the cow paths because, like me, they seemed to have no direction in life but their path always went past interesting things.

Aunt Therza was an attractive woman, and old family photos prove that she was a real knock-out when she was young. No wonder my Uncle Mark was crazy about her, and so it remained all his life. She had beautiful dark hair and snapping deep brown eyes. In the summer she would turn brown as a berry. But the most beautiful part of her was deep inside.

Aunt Therza was a wonderful cook. When we would visit, I would awaken to the smell of freshly baked rolls, red-eye gravy, and country ham. She made potato rolls from the previous evening's mashed potatoes, and they were so good you wanted to smack your grandma. I was a picky eater when I was little, and she tricked me into liking squash with her casserole recipe (which I make to this day). Mealtimes were special because there was always a lot of love, laughter, and good conversation passed around the table along with the wonderful food. She never put on airs, but she could set a beautiful table with her Stieff Rose silver pattern.

In addition to being a gracious hostess, Aunt Therza had a keen eye for antiques. From her, I learned to love and appreciate antiques also, although I never developed her expertise. The two of us went "antiquing" frequently when I would visit, and she would sail right past the fancy shops. Aunt Therza loved fine china and silver, but preferred primitive antiques when it came to furniture. The orphaned, careworn items that others had cast out in place of newer, shinier (shoddier) possessions found a home with Aunt Therza. She appreciated the nicks and gouges that time had inflicted on these sturdy Old Faithfuls.

We would stop at ramshackle shops that I feared would collapse if we dug too deeply for hidden treasure within. I recall one place where she found a serving fork that I thought was, frankly, stomp-down ugly. In her sweet but firm way, she bargained the price down to one dollar. Our next stop was at her jeweler's who offered her $50 on the spot (this was back in the mid-70's...it would be worth hundreds today). She knew when she picked it out of a box of junk that it was solid silver. It didn't stop her from wanting a few dollars off, though.

Another thing I admired about Aunt Therza was that she didn't suffer fools gladly. In fact, she didn't suffer fools at all. In her view, life was too short and there was too much to do. I never saw Aunt Therza be rude to anyone, but there was little mystery as to how she felt about folks. Thankfully, her daughters are the same way.

Unfortunately, Aunt Therza was right...life is too short. She died battling cancer when I was in my twenties. I did visit her when she was still taking treatments, and I was saddened to see how that damned illness was taking its toll on her body. Toward the end, I planned to go see her in the hospital, but my dad did not want me to do this. He loved her so, and it broke his heart to see her so fragile and frail. It was one of the very few times I heard my dad cry. He wanted me to remember her in better circumstances. This is one time I wish I had followed my heart even if it meant defying my father. I don't think he realized that I would have looked beyond the tarnished body, and I would only see pure shining silver.