Aunt Esther: stories left untold

When I was a teenager, she'd sometimes come with us to the department store the next town over. I don't remember if she shopped all that much, but this old fashioned store had a cafeteria. It was open to the rest of the store. The kind where you could've seen Flo working behind the counter with her beehive hair do. 

Esther, second from right, with her two sisters and cousins

The bar stools were on chrome poles with the spinning mushroom caps on top. My favorite kind as a kid.  These particular ones were teal blue vinyl. I'm sure they were installed in the 50's.

Esther would do her little bit of shopping at the department store. Probably for hair pins or the old fashioned hosiery that ladies used to clasp onto their girdles. Yes, I'm sure she wore a girdle.

Then, she'd sit on one of those bar stools at the counter of the little cafeteria and have a cup of coffee and a sweet roll or a slice of pie until my sister and mom and I were ready to leave.

If I could turn back time I'd have sat and had coffee with Aunt Esther at that counter top with spinning bar stools. I'd probably have spun around a couple of times during our conversation, too, just for kicks. 

Aunt Esther would have smiled. She loved coffee and conversation

Esther and her husband, Carl, didn't have any children of their own, even though for many years Esther was a boys' matron at the Christian Children's Home that many years prior to my birth, used to reside on the same property where I grew up. 

Esther taught my dad, the Swede, English when he came from Sweden at age 16. 

Dad, Uncle Carl and Aunt Esther in the early 1950's

She must have loved children, and jumped at the chance to have my dad come from Sweden to live with them and help them farm. After my dad married and I was born, I became like a grand daughter to Aunt Esther and Uncle Carl. They adored me. I still remember.

My First Birthday

I remember her showing me the Lily of the Valley that grew along the side of her house. Those tiny white bells on green stems. You had to crouch down to see them there in the dirt.

me, not wanting my picture taken

Theirs was the only yard I remember ever seeing birch trees in as a child. Such unique white bark, that I used to like to peel off with my little fingers.

Esther passed away when I was in my mid 20's. If I had a chance again to have coffee and pie with Aunt Esther, I'd jump on it. I'd take the time to listen to the stories that were left untold. 


Thanks for stopping by for a story left untold today!

Blessings to you!

~Anne