An Old Manicure Set

 

You are probably wondering why a post about manicure sets, and an old set at that. I was on Facebook the other day, and an ad came up for a manicure set, a modern-day one, not something from the 1940s. I have no idea why it came up on my feed because I had not been looking at them. I'm lucky if I get clear polish on my nails, much less getting a full manicure. I have always enjoyed doing my own nails, but because I have typed so much ever since my 20s, first as a medical transcriptionist and now as a writer, I have never cared for getting manicures because polish does not last all that long on my nails.

When I saw the ad, it immediately took me back to my Aunt Vera. Every Friday afternoon, she did her nails. Her set looked very similar to the blue one on the left side of the above ad. Hers was corduroy and held her polish and manicure tools. I wish I had that set of hers, but I'll always remember watching her do her nails. My Aunt Vera was probably the sweetest person and the gentlest I have or ever will know. She never married and lived with her parents until her death when she was about 65 years old. You see, her doctors had told my grandparents that she probably would not live through her teens. But she fooled them all and lived a long and happy life.

She had polio as a child, and as a result of that, one of her hands was deformed. It was such a part of her that I don’t remember which hand it was, as she could use it without much problem. She also broke her back in a bad fall when she was very young, and at that time, there was no treatment for it. Because of that, she developed a large hump on her back, called kyphosis. It was very large and stunted her growth. The reason of her possibly not living long was because the kyphosis would tend to push on her lungs, thus making it hard sometimes to breathe normally.  Again, it was such a part of her, our family hardly noticed it. People can be cruel, and not just children. She would get stared at often when she was out and about, but she never let it bother her. When I think about it now, it probably very much bothered her, but she never let any of us know that.  It taught me at a very young age not to make fun of people, no matter their looks.

Aunt Vera lived a very simple life. If you are a regular reader of my blog, then you know how I feel about journaling. I seem to be the only one in my family who journals—a lot. I have many empty journals in my office I hope to fill up one day. But my aunt did get a diary for her birthday one year from her sister. It was a daily diary for one year, and she did fill it up. It is a beautiful insight into her daily life. She would write about ironing her clothes, going to the Cleveland Indians ballgame with her dad, going on a picnic with the neighborhood kids, or cleaning her bedroom. I included excerpts from her diary in my book A Life Well Loved if you want to know a little more about her. A very funny thing happened at her funeral that I'm convinced was her doing so we wouldn’t be quite so sad on such a sad day. You can read about that too in A Life Well Loved.

I still miss Aunt Vera, sometimes feeling like it was just yesterday we lost her. She was so patient with us kids, too. She would read to us, play games at the dining room table, make popcorn on a Friday night, or sit out in the backyard under the apple tree to dry her hair, at least during the warmer Ohio months. There was the one time a bird in the tree managed to, well, land his poop right on top of her head! Vera laughed, went inside to wash her hair again, and went right back out on the swing, just keeping a bit closer eye on that bird.

My Aunt Vera was a gem. I hope you have a gem of an aunt in your life. If you do, tell her how much she means to you. You won't regret it.  Thanks for stopping by. Remember to keep reading, keep writing, and always enjoy your day.