It's been over 8 years since I moved to Maui to live with my Auntie Sally. Other than her hair, which is now shorter and more manageable, and her job, which she was laid off of, not much has changed. Before I start writing more, I feel like I need to give a bit of a back story. I was born and raised in southern California - 2000 miles away from my current home on the island of Maui. My family growing up primarily consisted of my relatives on my dad's side of the family (grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, etc...), my grandparents on my mom's side of the family, and my Auntie Sally. Dad's side was huge, and we were pretty close as well. There was the core family, plus their relatives who were in varying degrees of closeness, and also their friends - also in varying degrees of closeness. For a kid, it was pretty complex, and occasionally confusing.
My mother's side was much easier. There was Grandma, Grandpa, and Auntie Sally. There were other relatives to be sure, but I saw them so rarely that I would have been hard pressed to recognize them, let alone get their name right. Grandma and Grandpa were not so complex. Grandma seemed like a typical Japanese grandmother (except without an accent). She was tidy, liked plants, didn't really strike me as the hugging type, and was the bane of my existence when I was younger since her appearance usually meant my mom was going somewhere. And God forbid my mom ever leaving my side! As for Grandpa - I wasn't a big fan. He smelled because of his heavy pipe/cigar smoking, and he was a jokester... with me often being the butt of his jokes. I was definitely not close to him. In fact, I usually tried to stay far away.
Auntie Sally on the other hand - she was different. Very different. I don't know how old I was when I realized it, but the PC term nowadays is intellectually challenged. Since she was a part of the family since I was born, I didn't really think anything of it. She lived with my grandparents, would come visit at the same time as them, she would occasionally get scoldings from my parents, and was socially awkward, though I'm sure I didn't see it as a negative thing. In actuality, I didn't really see much difference between her and other people, which can be a good thing, but it also means I didn't really see all things that make her a unique individual.
I wanted to write about her for one reason: So other people can get to know her. (Subconsciously, it's probably also so I can get some pity, but hey - it's my blog. I get to do what I want to.) There are days when she drives me nuts. Actually, there are probably swaths of multiple weeks when she does, but since her quirks are relegated to the home, most people don't notice them. Her quirks also tend to be subtle enough that most people miss them completely. And every once in a long while, something happens that makes me think "Wow, if only other people could be like her."
Eight years ago I moved to Maui because I wanted a change from the city life of LA, and also because I knew Auntie Sally needed someone around to watch over her. In my coming Auntie Chronicle posts, I'll share some stories that will hopefully be entertaining, and hopefully there will be a few in there that will actually be meaningful. I'll start off with a short one:
As I noted earlier, I wasn't ever really close to Auntie Sally. I knew she was "slow", but I never knew to what extent. It really didn't seem all that bad based on my interactions with her in the past, and that's exactly what you would hear from most people who know her. So when I moved here, I didn't really know what to expect. I got a big wake-up call the first week that it was just her and me.
Milk and Eggs. That's all it was. Milk and Eggs. There might have been another item or two, but I distinctly remember being at Safeway in Kahului - my very first grocery outting with Auntie Sally - and it was a simple stop to pick up a couple staples. Milk and Eggs. At the checkout counter I realized I had forgotten something. Looking back, tt was actually probably the best mistake I could have made at the time. Standing in line at Safeway, I realized that I had left my wallet at home. Thankfully, I had Auntie Sally with me. More importantly, I had Auntie Sally's purse with me.
Looking at what we were planning to purchase, I figured the total would be small enough that I didn't have to worry about her having enough money. At the time, I probably used my phone number from California for their customer loyalty program - aka the Safeway Card. So at least they got my name right this time around. The cashier dragged our items across the glass pane, and the machine beeped our prices onto the screen. Less than $10 - no prob! I turned to Auntie Sally and let her know - "Auntie Sally, can you pay for these? I left my wallet at home - I'll pay you back later." She responded - "Oh? Yah, I think I have enough money."
I waited as she pulled the purse off her shoulder and clunked it down on the little purse table that they have there. She was slow, but that was expected - she had never been a quick-moving person, and I'm a pretty patient guy. Dig dig dig. Auntie Sally was rummaging through her overstuffed purse. She easily finds her wallet and slowly removes it, glancing around to see where she can put it down. She settled on resting it on top of her purse, at which point she began struggling with the tiny zipper that runs across the length of it. All the while, I'm casually leaning against the counter - waiting.
ZIIIIIIIP. She finally got the zipper open - and as she slowly tugs it across the teeth of her dull brown over-used (what my mom would call "ratty") wallet, the clam shell-like folds burst open with sheaves of green parchment. My mouth dropped open into a gape, and my eyes opened to twice their usual size. As her fingers began running through the bills, I could see that every single corner was printed with a nice, crisp "100" on it. I was in disbelief. In less time than it took my chin to hit the floor, my right arm shot out to grab the first Benjamin it touched, while my left simultaneously clamped the walled closed. I honestly don't recall Auntie Sally's reaction, nor do I remember the cashier's reaction. All I know is that I paid with the bill, closed the purse, picked up my groceries, and then collected the $90+ in change all while keeping a close eye on the purse. I may even have carried it to the car.
My first question? I have no idea. I just know that my main priority was to get to the car safely and lock the doors. The main contenders for what came out of my mouth after the door locks were in position would be "Oh my god - what are you doing!?" and "Why are you carrying around that much money!?" In summary, the answer I got was "Oh, I don't know how much I'm going to have to spend." Once home, I counted it. Over $2000 in cash. And yet, her explanation never changed. Auntie Sally honestly thought that there might be a day when she would go to the store and need to spend $2000. Not only that, but she had another $1000 or so stashed in the house - in case the $2000 wasn't enough.
Numbers. Not Auntie Sally's strong suit. That was 8 years ago. It took less than one before it was apparent I needed to manage her finances for her. Apparent to me that is. I've made it simple for her - she's not allowed to buy anything unless she asks for permission first. Yes - anything. Some people think that's harsh - especially those who see us at a grocery store and she has to ask if she can by oatmeal. The problem is, she doesn't understand the difference between the money it takes to buy oatmeal, and the amount it costs to purchase designer accessories.
If you don't believe me, you can test her when she walks by you at the park in her frumpy sweatpants sporting her $800 designer prescription glasses. And those glasses? They were purchased AFTER she was told to consult me before making purchases. Oh well. They'll go well with her Gucci bag.
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