tante Lorraine

WI

Sun

Personal Power

It is time to express your personal power

By using your inner gifts.

Sun 7.26.20

      The woman you are looking at was named at birth Laurianne Groleau, the last child of a ten sibling family.  Her face radiates that “darling of the family” look. She was my Tante Lorraine, a woman who was betwixt two generations.  Her parents were staunch Roman Catholics of the old school who were guided throughout their life by the church.  She was a child of the 40’s, the war, Benny Goodman, the Andrew Sisters, a time when America was learning to swing. This Laurianne, French Canadian business didn’t rest well with her and as soon as she was able she went to court and changed it to Lorraine. 

      The picture reflects her lifelong buoyancy and good cheer, but also a certain vulgarity, tartiness.  She was my mother’s sister.  After my mother died I came to know her well.  Dad being the ne’er do well that he was, once his wife died placed me in the convent at the age of six with hopes that he could drop by every few years or so with a bag of candy and that took care of his responsibilities.  Eight years later, I decided I needed to get out of the convent quick or I would remain there for the rest of my life.  No, no, no, this girl had plans in life and they didn’t include the convent.  I ran away.

      The police picked me up in some godforsaken place in the middle of nowhere, Dad was summoned and had to deal with The Problem.  The nuns didn’t want me back and what was he going to do?  Fine fix, you got me in, he said and called Tante Lorraine, Would she take me in?  He must’ve called other family members before Lorraine, because he thought she was a slut.

      So off to Tante’s house I went.  She had three kids at the time a set of twin boys and a girl.  I babysat and helped around the house and she was good to me.  Lorraine liked to party; she liked men and sex, a lot.  I remember she and her husband had a foursome in the upstairs bedrooms once while I was downstairs babysitting.  She had a secret boyfriend too.  A hunk!  One fall night she sent me out to tell her boyfriend that she couldn’t get away.  I walked up to the next street where his car was parked.  He opened the door, received the message and we sat for a bit listening to rock and roll of his radio.  Then he reached over and kissed me, a hot kiss with his tongue full in my mouth.  I remember walking out in the crisp fall night somewhat above the ground, aware that I had voyaged into a new awareness.  I was 14.  Tante knew immediately and accused me of flirting with her boyfriend.  Shortly afterward she decided that she didn’t want to have me around anymore.  And one morning, it was sprung on me that I was moving out, immediately.  My family were not subtle.

      Oh, the life she had, the divorce, getting caught stealing a fur coat, the family has to hush it up and make amends.  Tante was having a good time, and her own life.  She was learning to do the twist, and hitting the dance halls every weekend, but that wears and then she had never worked, had by now four kids.  She found this guy who can best be described as a failed con artist, abusive alcoholic, on the skids.  They married and headed for California on the proceedings from the sale of her house.  With her belongings packed on top of the car, it was a journey through hell.  But she made it and lived in Los Angeles for 30 years, without him.

      She was family.  We spent a lot of time together with our respective husbands and kids, at the beach, on picnics, playing Pokeno at her home.  When my home burnt she came to my rescue.  Tante Lorraine was born in the wrong era, a time without contraception, abortion, higher education for girls, never able or given the time to be a young woman, independent.  She would have me hide the ashtrays in the house when her mother came to visit. Unable to even see a life outside of marriage and children.  She had 3 husbands, outlived them all, loved her twin sons, had a difficult relationship with her daughter, and ignored the last son.

      I saw recently on the internet that she had died.  Laurianne, Lorraine, Groleau, Cyr, Gomm, Hall, gave it her best shot, and lived it to the hilt.  She was a sister of the blood.  I was very lucky that she took me in after the convent.  It was an education into a life lived with no apology.  She was a strong and willful woman, the needed balance to my convent self-abnegating education.

The favorite essay this month has again been, Karpman Drama Triangle