Auntie Marj

My Great-Aunt shared a birthday with me. Every year on or around my birthday we'd have to drive out to London to celebrate with her. Auntie Marj was in a wheelchair. The story of how she got there haunted me for years. It was a practical joke gone bad. She was just a child (maybe 12 years old or so - if my memory serves me correctly). As she went to sit down on a chair, a boy pulled the chair out from under her and she landed on the floor - crippling her for the rest of her life. A sad story, and a sweet lady - however, I have to admit, I hated having to share my birthday with her.

Her house was small and smelled like old people. I remember a piano or organ and an exercise bike at her home. It was always boring going there. There was nothing to do and there were times when I felt like my birthday sucked for having to go there. But, I was told how much it meant to Auntie Marj and so I dutifully pretended to enjoy it.

When she died, Auntie Marj left me her engagement ring. Sharing a birthday with me and our many visits to her house must have indeed meant something to her. I have worn the ring every day since receiving it although I still feel guilty and undeserving of it. Thanks Mom and Dad for dragging me down the 401 each year on my birthday to a smelly old woman's house. She obviously looked forward to our visits and I know now that sometimes when you make little sacrifices in your life for other people, it can have a huge impact on that person's life. And you might never know just how you've touched someone's life and made it a little bit better.

Happy Birthday Auntie Marj.

The back of the photo says (in my grandmother's handwriting) "Nov/83 B'day for Aunt Marj - 74 yrs and Janet - 12 yrs. Although, If it was '83, it would have been my thirteenth birthday.