I've written a thousand different beginnings to this stubborn blog post, but can't seem to express what I want to say. I've wanted to say something since attending Aunt June's funeral last month, but just can't spit it out. So I'm just going to throw whatever comes out onto my keyboard and hopefully it's comprehensible in some way, shape, or form.
I have these fleeting, existential moments where I realize that although I may not feel like I have "grown up," I am, in fact, a "grown up." I have kids and adult responsibilities and, heaven forbid, there are now people younger than me and more cool than me and still content in the luxuriant innocence of youth and a more young adulthood than myself. Which means I should now be gracefully stepping into the mature and sensible shoes of a full fledged adult.
Something that always seems to come to mind when I think of the memorable adults in my life as a child, youth, and young adult, is that they always managed to make me feel, for lack of a better word, famous. Like I was someone worth seeking out to speak to, interesting to know, and so much more than just some punk kid. Aunt June was one of those adults.
Aunt June was definitely not my biological aunt, in fact, I can only think of one family in my hometown of Raymond, Alberta, that could rightfully call her by that title, but that didn't stop the entire town from knowing her by that moniker. She came to my basketball games, my show choir performances, and my plays, but then again, every other kid in Raymond could say the same thing. She approached me and spoke to me without hesitation, figuring out who my parents were and then taking me under her wing. And with the limited perspective of a self-conscious teenager, I genuinely felt quite famous to have this woman who was little more than a stranger show so much attention to me. And I'm positive I'm not the only one.
(taken from her obituary, you can read here)
So in those moments I recognize my membership in the adult world and contemplate the type of adult I'd like to be, Aunt June comes to mind. So does Jane McMullin, another iconic woman from Raymond who could tell you how the two of you were related and then make you feel like a million bucks just because you got out of bed that morning. I want to make the people I come across feel good about themselves, especially the young people. I want to make them feel famous. Which, when I think about it, is really what being an adult is all about. It's about being grown up enough to realize that those still growing up need the attention and validation you once had while you were growing up. It's about realizing there are so many more people than just yourself and ignoring your fears about what someone might think about you in an effort to make them feel great about themselves. That's the kind of adult I want to be.