Character Sketch - Aunt Deb

*Disclaimer: This character sketch is a snapshot from my viewpoint. It is not the sum total of the individual and it does not encapsulate every facet of who they are. It is a piece of who they are to me.

When I started writing this a week ago, I thought it would be easy. Silly me. But I did especially love writing this character sketch, because my Aunt is a mess of contradictions. She is one thing and then almost entirely another.

But first a bit of history; Debra Jean Demaline. Deb Maxted. Aunt Deb. She is the leader of the great trifecta, the she-clan, the sisterhood of the Demaline girls. She is the oldest sister, my mom the middle child, and my Aunt Donna the baby. The three of them have a sisterly bond that I have always been a bit envious of. They are best friends, partners-in-crime, and can finish each others sentences. It's a little eerie.

Growing up, I secretly categorized my Aunt Deb as the "stern" aunt. This causes me great amusement as I look back, because I think it's more of a reflection of who I was. I was a bit selfish growing up and a bit spoiled. Aunt Deb has no patience for selfish or spoiled kids. She was a physical education teacher throughout most of her career and I think she is able to see the character of young people pretty clearly. In fact, I would say that she makes pretty fast assessments of people in general and they are often accurate. Anyway, she was the stern aunt, because she'd call me out when I was whining, remind me to pitch in when I was slacking or trying to escape work, and calmly knocked me down a peg when I acted like the world revolved around me. My selfish, spoiled self was rather affronted:)

But then I grew up. Life happened, sometimes quite painfully, and I learned that, in fact, the world did not revolve around me. I learned that there were people around me struggling. I began to consider others feelings and somewhere in the midst of that, I discovered something. My aunt is very, very good at the hard stuff.

She is deeply compassionate, caring, wise, and practical. She gives it to you straight. She is an amazing listener and can cut right to the heart of the matter. So somewhere in the midst of the turmoil of my life, she stopped being the stern aunt and became the wise and realistic aunt.

My Aunt Deb and Uncle Stan were married before I was born, so for me, they have always been a dynamic duo. They are another amusing example of an introvert and an extrovert making it work. My uncle is a chatty, friendly extrovert who strikes up conversations with anyone and everyone. My aunt . . . well. I tease her that she doesn't really like people. She is very fond of individuals, but people as a whole? Not her favorite:) Being someone she is fond of is an honor, because she's choosy. They don't have children and I will make a confession here and now: A part of me is glad to not have to share them with kids of their own, outside of their other nieces and nephews. My aunt has stood in more times than I can count as a bonus parent. So has my uncle . . . but I'll save that for his character sketch down the road.

One thing we have shared from early on was a love of reading. She is almost as book obsessed as I am, and between you and me, that's saying something. Not only that, but she enjoys reading a lot of the same unusual books as I do. There are lots of books that I love that I would never recommend to casual readers. Books that are hard to categorize or that some people would find straight up odd. Those are the books I share with my aunt, and then we chat about them. She really takes in the stories, which is something that I love about her. It's not just about the entertainment for her, it's also about the journey and what they teach her. She is a big Tolkien fan, and not just the epic scope, but the poetry and the songs (you know, the bits that other people skip?). The artistry of writing appeals to her. I loved sitting next to her and watching the Lord of the Rings movies and some of the Harry Potter series. Generally I hate talking during movies, but we'd keep leaning over in excitement or fury over changes.

My aunt loves art. It is something we definitely do not have in common, because I don't have an artistic eye at all. But I love watching her look at art. She connects to it, interprets it, and lets it speak to her. It's kind of fascinating to watch.

I have been told that my aunt was the rebellious one when she was a teenager, sneaking out to go to concerts and listening to forbidden music in her car with the windows down. But the music we both liked listening to was generally just folksy acoustic and Third Day. And I mean, granted, Third Day is rock but it's Christian rock. Not really the same. It wasn't until I took her to a Third Day concert and watched her jump up with her hands in the air on a particularly raucous song that I realized this was another piece of her, hidden away mostly. There is a little bit of a rock chick in my aunt, forever slightly contained by a life employed in the SDA church.

I'm convinced that, had life taken her in another direction, my aunt would be a hippy, living out in the woods and making her own soap and clothes, never using money and eschewing gadgets of all kind. Instead, life brought her to where she is today, and the glimpses only come across in her stubborn refusal to pay a penny more than she has to for things and being the only iPhone user I know that rarely checks her phone.

One of my favorite things about my aunt is her ability to show me another perspective. I can be stubborn, although not vocally. I hear things I don't agree with all the time, and no amount of lecturing, logic, or yelling will convince me away from my perspective. I also tend to have grand ideas that take over my thoughts and consume my interests. When I have discussions with my aunt, she has a unique gift of saying just the right thing to suddenly help shift my perspective. It's incredibly subtle and hard to describe, but sometimes she just says a few words and I can suddenly see the big picture. It makes her a pretty wonderful sounding board.

My aunt has the best laugh. I think most people who meet her probably think she is a bit standoffish and quiet at first. But she is the warmest person. She laughs with her whole face, eyes crinkling and smile huge. Just hearing her laugh makes me happy.

She decided to make a career change a few years ago and is now a physical therapy assistant. She tells me stories about her interactions with patients and I can only think how blessed they are. My aunt sees the person within, encourages at the right time, coaches when you need it, tells you to stop being lazy when it's true, and looks outside the box for solutions. Her patients to have her on their side for their health battles.

Until just a few years ago, I didn't realize just what a blessing it was to be an aunt. Then my nieces came along, then an honorary nephew, then another niece and a nephew, and still more honorary nephews . . . and even more to come! It is only in having the experience of being an auntie that I realize just how special mine are. Aunt Deb, I love you and I'm very, very grateful that you are you who you are and that you're my aunt. I'm the luckiest.

Character Sketch - My Macee

*Disclaimer: This character sketch is a snapshot from my viewpoint. It is not the sum total of the individual and it does not encapsulate every facet of who they are. It is a piece of who they are to me.


I start with one of my favorite people. I think I also begin with her because she is difficult to capture, and I needed to see if I could succeed before writing more.

Melissa MacPhee. Macee. Melissa Ann Rae. My best friend. Oh those silly, girly terms. It is not an apt description for our friendship. She has had a wealth of friends since I've known her, all of 11 years now. We met during college, at a time in my life when I finally, at long last, had just gotten my feet under me. I was in the midst of doing something I love, acting on stage. We were in the Diary of Anne Frank together and I have a clear memory of that being one of the most fun, creative points in my life. I made a few life-long friendships as a result of that experience, and my friendship with Macee has become an anchor in my life.

We are an odd pairing. The introvert and the extrovert. Macee is a people person. People are drawn to her like moths to a flame. But unlike a flame, she brings only light and warmth, no singeing or zapping. Her first instinct is always to help, to encourage, to uplift. She is a cheerleader. And from the first, that has always been what she has given to me. She is my #1 fan in friendship. My ideas are always wonderful, my accomplishments are always trumpeted, my quirks and geekery are encouraged and indulged, my hair always looks great, and she always takes my side. To her, I am "hon", "darling" "honey" and "pretty lady". She firmly believes that I am a closeted genius writer and is one of the few people I've allowed to read my stories. She laughs at my jokes and answers the phone when I call, even though she loathes talking on the phone.

To my dear Macee, I am something truly splendid, and that is the great gift she gives me effortlessly.

To most people, the first thing they see is "knockout". She is completely beautiful. Amazing, long hair that looks fantastic in any color. Tall and slender. The loveliest blue eyes, filled with joy. And a smile that you can't help smiling back at. And great teeth. It's ridiculous how nice of teeth she has. In another life, she would be a model. And if that was all you saw when you looked at her, you'd be missing out.

Melissa is devoted. She will give of her time, her energy, her kindness, her love and her patience. She gives it freely to people. All sorts of people. Nice people and maybe not always so nice people. People who deserve it and those who don't. There were times when she gave freely to anyone who needed it, regardless of whether they returned it or not. She has had to learn a hard lesson, and that is that not everyone is capable of returning those gifts. It was hard for me to watch, because I am selfish with my emotional gifts. I generally give only to those I know can return it at some point, except on rare occasions. We had some conversations about that. She learned a little bit from me and got better with putting up some boundaries. But she has continued to be more generous that I ever could be. She still gives generously, if a bit more carefully. The care and concern that she gives to others is one of my favorite things about her. It is also what makes her excellent in her career as a recruiter.

She has a ridiculously big family. They are a beautiful patchwork of blended families. For some people, this would be a continued challenge, an emotional landmine. For her, the more family, the more love and joy to share. She has the gift of building and sustaining connections. She has happily adopted and been adopted by members of my family over the years.

There are very few people who can make me laugh the way she does. Her laugh is infectious. She is wry, witty, silly, ridiculous, goofy, sarcastic, comedic gold. She can talk at an incredible speed when excited and gets excited over little things, just like me. So get us together when we're both excited or hyper and good lord, speed records are broken in our chatter. We become ditzy teenagers (although ironically, we didn't know each other as teenagers), in a frenzy of shared connection and silliness. A shared addiction of diet Dr. Pepper has led to never before seen giddiness. A whole new facet of my personality is revealed when we hang out. There is no one else that I act like that with, no one else who could convince me to do a flowy dress photo shoot. She brings out the BFF in me:)

We share the guilty pleasure of reading YA books, texting each other new books that we've read and enjoyed. I have a category on my Goodreads bookshelf called "possible books for Macee". I also know what not to recommend to her . . . anything vividly violent or scary. Yes I know, why would I recommend that anyway? Well, she had issues with the Hunger Games. Apparently children being forced to violently kill each other gave her nightmares. Go figure. Either she's weird or I'm missing an essential morality chip.

She sings like a freaking Disney princess. And yes, I mean that in the best possible sense. She sounds like a combination of Belle and Ariel. I know this because I have sat in a car with her while we've listened to Disney songs and she sings along and sounds just. like. them. If there are any Disney talent scouts reading in, just an FYI.

Since I've known her, she has gone through many changes. She got out of her punk phase (mostly;), acquired some body art, became an auntie, ate a few crickets, adopted a puppy child, overcame her Adventist roots and learned how to dance, traveled the country and the world, dated some frogs and ultimately married a prince (which was a singular relief to me), and is about to graduate again (overachiever).

Through it all, she passed the point of friendship in my life and became family. And she always will be.

Photo Credit: Dacia Haning (Yes, I'm bragging)

Catching up . . . and an idea

I've had a few people mention that I haven't blogged in a bit. Nice to be missed, I suppose. Here's the scoop though . . . I'm a moody writer. What does that mean? Well, it means that I have to be in a certain mood to write certain things. I write quite a bit all the time. Digital journaling is a thing for me. Some people are classy and considerably cooler than I, and they handwrite in trendy journals or old-fashioned books that have been gutted and had blank pages inserted. They write in beautiful handwriting in parks and coffee shops. Like I said . . . classy. I'm not classy, I type. I print slowly and get impatient when my hands can't keep up with my racing thoughts. I rant quite a bit, and hand writing just isn't conducive to a good rant. But I digress . . . moody writing. For a considerable portion of my writing, I'm writing things that aren't fit for public consumption. I think things out while I'm writing. I might be mentally gnawing on something and I'll write about it until I've mulled it into something I can make sense of. Or maybe I had a bad day and I want to vent. No one wants to hear my mental gnawing or my venting. At least I hope you don't . . . that would be a bit damaged of you.

But at times I'm in the mood to share. Occasionally I'm in the mood to show a little piece of myself that I'd otherwise keep under wraps, if anyone cares to read it. Sometimes I learned something, through the mental gnawing and venting, that brought me to a place I want to share. And then I want to share the struggle, the journey, the joy, the insight, the hilarity, the irony, the happiness.

And sometimes I have ideas. Generally, these ideas are ridiculous. For awhile I thought about writing an ongoing story and posting pieces of it occasionally. But I felt wildly intimidated by that idea. I write creatively quite a bit, but only rarely let people read my scratchings. I am my own worst critic of my writing, but it doesn't make me feel much better when others agree with me:)

So I had another idea I thought I might try. Character sketches. I have a lot of pretty fantastic people in my life. The biggest blessings in my life are the people that God has placed in my life. Based on that alone, I really do feel like God cares for me deeply, because He has placed me in the center of love. So I'm thinking, depending on how often the mood hits me to write them, I might do character sketches of some of those people. My family. My friends.

What is a character sketch? Well, it's the way I see a person. My perception. It will not capture every facet, it will capture the piece of them that is mine, the part that only I will ever have. When you have a relationship with a person, that relationship is a part of them that no one else can or will ever have. Every conversation, every experience, every hug, is a gift for you and you alone. So when I decide to share a character sketch of a person, it will be who they are to me, or how they seem to me. Maybe not entirely accurate, or only accurate to me. It will be my snapshot of the people who bring meaning to my life.

Maybe it won't be interesting to anyone but me and maybe them. Hopefully it doesn't ruffle any feathers if my snapshot is out of focus or isn't shaped right. But maybe, just maybe, I can sketch out a clear picture of some of my favorite people.

Or maybe I'll write one and the resounding responsive sound of crickets will indicate "never again". We'll see.