My Aunt Jetta Died
Aunt Jetta
My mother’s sister, Aunt Jetta died this week at the age of ninety-two. She had a full life with four children that she raised mostly alone. He oldest, Arthur Lee, was a cop in Little Rock Arkansas for 34 years. She had twins, Ray and Jay and a daughter, Pat. Arthur and Jay passed away so there are two surviving siblings today. Pat was a dutiful daughter looking after her mother along with her husband till the day Jetta passed away. Ray looked after his mom as well living next door.
Arthur - Pat - Ray - Aunt Jetta
Jetta studied with Jehovah’s Witnesses early on due to the encouragement from my mother. At some point she decided certain aspects that were just not for her as she moved on with her life and eventually became a Catholic. She did much volunteer work in the community after her retirement that assisted many causes for those less fortunate through the Church. As a mother of four children that divorced her abusive husband, opportunities were somewhat limited, but she managed to get a degree and start working for the state at halfway houses in Little Rock. This was not an easy task as often these people were unstable. She described being hit, slapped, and knocked down on several occasions. You could say she had seen the worst side of people in recovery and worked within that system for thirty five years overseeing several houses in the Little Rock area. She had the knowledge and wisdom to tell you if you were being played or taken advantage of as she understood human nature.
Due to being Jehovah’s Witnesses we had limited contact about once or twice a year. When my Grandfather passed in 1987, my mother told a story that my Aunt had stolen the estate and she cut her off. We accepted her story and for thirteen years had no contact. When I left the organization I decided to reach out to my Aunt. Her phone number did not work, so on a weekend, I drove to Little Rock to see if she still lived at the residence I last recalled. She no longer lived there so I assumed she may have passed away.
In 2007 I got a phone call from Aunt Jetta, due to my media exposure, she has seen me on a program and was able to google my phone number. I welcomed her contact as the rest of my JW family had cut me off for reporting child molesters. After a few conversations I asked about what happened when my Grandfather died. My Aunt who was my mom’s older sister, told a much different story. They had rented my Grandfather’s house after he died and put the rent money in a joint account. About six months later they sold the house and my mother took care of the transaction. My Aunt assumed the money would be deposited into the joint account and they would split the proceeds when everything was finalized. My mother never contacted my Aunt, and when she went to check the account it had been cleaned out. I did recall at the time that my mother had some extensive plastic surgery. Now I understand how she got the money to pay for it, and found a way to cut off my Aunt without us asking any questions. Yet Aunt Jetta never cut off my mother and forgave her after thirteen years, when they started speaking again, and was always her big sister.
Just a good Jehovah’s Witness.
So our relationship was on again and we kept in contact. A few years later when I broke my leg and was really cutting things thin, my Aunt sent me $600 to help cover my rent. You know kinda like what normal family does when help is needed. My mother? Sent a get well card and a $5 bill. Just some brittle memories that let you know what unconditional love was. My parents were not broke or needy, in fact their estate was worth well over $1,000,000. They spent it on taking cruises and time shares, while never supporting their grandchildren in any way as they were never baptized non JWs.
But this is about Aunt Jetta. More than anything she was just a good friend. Sometimes I would share my troubles and other times she would share hers. When Arthur her oldest son died, i was one she talked to about it. I think it is better to let it out rather than hold it in. I recall my first Thanksgiving visit after leaving the organization. Aunt Jetta, my great Aunt, and all their families were there to continue a family tradition I was completely unaware of. The “Rook Card Playoff”, in which two partners gave it their best to defeat each other. The winner took on the next partners whose mission was to annihilate them. At the end of the day most of the family had played a round and the last couple standing was declared the supreme winners! Arthur was still alive then and was a formidable foe and as I recall ultimately he and his partner won the championship. There was a lot of great food, a lot of laughs and teasing, just a great celebration of Thanksgiving.
As years passed we would make it to see Aunt Jetta on some Thanksgivings and you could be sure the card table was set out for the games to begin even though each year it got smaller and smaller. Jetta loved her cokes and had at least a couple a day. When you get to your 90s you can drink whatever makes you happy. She was also a collector of designer plates and about anything else. The most strange for me was her doll collection. They were lined up against the wall behind the TV, about thirty of them with glass eyes just starring at you with blank faces. As you sat there watching TV, out of the corner of my eye I would sometimes swear they either moved or blinked. Then at night I seldom watched TV needless to say.
My Aunt Jetta was a spunky old girl. She even drove her car the day before she died because she wanted something from the store. At night she liked to get up at 2am to watch “Murder She Wrote”. The following day that is where her family found her passed away in her recliner while she was sleeping of congestive heart failure. I can think of a lot worse ways to go. Aunt Jetta was not dealt an easy life, yet lived her life on her own terms, lived to her death driving her car and living in her home. Pat and her husband Stan dutifully supported and took care of her till the end which was a wonderful gift that most parents will never see. Ray her son always lived nearby and was there to help when needed.
So my dear Aunt Jetta if you are up there somewhere reading this, know that you were loved from many people. I know you were tired, so I can only wish you are in a better place, free of the aches and pains that dogged you till the end. You don’t have to be tough anymore, you can now be at peace and know you had a life well lived. I love you and am thankful to be part of that life.
*Though Aunt Jetta was Catholic she asked to not have a funeral so this is my way of saying goodbye.