I've been mulling this post over in my mind for several days, since my great-aunt's birthday. I wanted to give this topic the thought and time that it deserved; that she deserved.

Every child should have someone special in their lives, someone that makes them feel important. For me, this person was my dad's aunt. She was not related to me by blood, because my dad isn't my biological father. But, as I've stated in previous posts, he's my dad and she was really more than just a great-aunt to me. She was my special someone.

I remember when I was young, we used travel from California to Oregon to visit her on her ranch. She and my uncle had chickens and cows and lots of fun places to play. My brother and I would go play in the hay in her barn and chase the chickens around the ranch. I can still remember the smell of that hay and that barn to this day, and I smile thinking about the fun we had there.

She was married to a man's man. He had a handlebar mustache, smoked cigarettes and drank whiskey on the rocks. I remember a picture of him in his younger days, wearing a leather jacket, standing next to his motorcycle. He was the epitome of cool. There were also pictures of my aunt, looking very glamorous in her 1940's pencil skirt and sweater set. I imagine that they were the jet setters of their day. She was a career gal, and he was a manager, that is, when they weren't traveling the world. I remembered them to be very much in love, which is quite a statement considering how young I was at the time.

When they traveled the world, my aunt would find pen pals my age for me from other countries. She'd also buy me a charm for my charm bracelet from her travels. I recently moved all of those charms to a new bracelet and have started adding charms from my own travels.

My uncle died suddenly when I was 12, and so I stayed with her for the summer so she wouldn't be alone. They never had any children of their own and she was in her late 50's or early 60's at the time. That's when I really got to know my aunt. That summer I learned a lot of things, including the fine art of playing blackjack and how to shuffle cards. Considering the ultra-religious household I was raised in, this was guilty fun for me.

I remember finding her cigarette holder, the kind that women used back in the day to smoke their cigarettes. It looked so glamorous to me and I was so fascinated by it, so of course, my aunt smoked a cigarette in it just to make me giggle. I most likely swooned too. I was 12, after all.

That summer I was able to watch a calf being born. It was amazing and something I'll never forget. I also got to run from bulls. I used to climb over the fence and antagonize the bulls until I could see that I got their attention, then I'd run and climb back over the fence. That fun ended when my aunt explained to me that the bull wouldn't necessarily stop at the fence. In case you're not aware, 12 year olds are the smartest animal on the planet.

My time at the farm was also the summer that I 'became a woman'. Good Lord, that was humiliating. Bless her heart, she had no idea what to do with me so she took me to the pharmacy and told the pharmacist in front of what seemed to be a hundred people of my new status. He loaded us up with lots of supplies while I tried not to look at anything or anybody. To add insult to injury, she told everyone who came over to her house about the "good news". Maybe back in her day that was something to be celebrated, but I wasn't in the mood to announce it to the world.

I had lots of wonderful experiences that summer, and to this day the smell of bacon, coffee and cigarettes takes me right back to when I was 12. I'm probably the only person who loves that smell, but I needed that summer. I needed, really needed, to get out of the environment that I was living in.

Shortly after that summer, my aunt moved to a condo about 10 minutes from our house. I am not sure if I'd be the person I am today, or really, I'm not sure that I'd even exist today if she hadn't of lived so close. I visited her often, and she made sure to let me know how special I was. Not just special to her, but special. I remember she told me one time that she wanted to be my special someone because she knew that I needed that. She also told me that we needed to keep that a secret from my mother. And I did. It's a secret that I still keep to this day.

My aunt was the only person in my life back then that gave me unconditional love. She was my cheerleader, and no matter what I decided to do, she supported me. She always seemed so proud of me and seemed to really "get" me and love me for who I was. This is probably one of the reasons that I'm such a big advocate of children. I want every child to feel special.

Our relationship remained close, and after I moved to another state we wrote to each other at least once a week and we talked on the phone often.

She bought my children their first books, and continued to send them money to pick out their own books once they were old enough to make choices for themselves. I made sure that my children, even though they didn't know how to spell anything, wrote her thank you notes. I'd ask them what they wanted to say and then I'd write it down and they'd copy it. Or, they'd try to at least. I'd usually have to translate.

Fast forward to when my ex-husband left me. It was probably one of the darkest and scariest times of my life, and trust me I've had many. What made it more scary than any other time was that I was now responsible for two little lives. There I was with two little boys (4 and 5), and my ex-husband had cleaned out our checking account and had left the bills at least 2-3 months past due. He'd spent all of our money on his girlfriend. Not only did my aunt send me enough money to catch everything up, she called me on the phone every night. I remember clearly sitting on the floor in my kitchen after the boys were in bed, talking to my aunt and hearing, and more importantly believing that she'd be with me always. No matter what. And she was.

My aunt had a collection of tea cups. She told me that when she got up in the morning, she'd decide who she was going to have coffee with and pull their tea cup from the shelf. She'd then drink her coffee from that cup and think about that person. She drank coffee with me the last day of her life.

When my dad's sister went to her condo after my aunt died, she found my teacup in the sink unwashed. She sent me the unwashed tea cup along with all of the letters I'd ever written my aunt, bundled in a large rubber band. What a gift that was.

I am so thankful that she sent the cup to me in that condition. Somehow, my aunt knew that seeing the last remnants of my special someone would mean a great deal to me. It took me months before I finally washed her lipstick off that teacup.

Now, I have a tea light candle in her tea cup and whenever I need her, I just light the candle. I instantly feel peace and somehow I just know that she's surrounding me with the comfort that I need, just like she always has.