Dec 21, 2004 By Jim Pletcher 3 min read

There are It’s difficult watching someone in your family grow older and suffer the ills associated with advancing years. We used to call her “Sarge,’ affectionately, because she would brook no sloth during our summer visits.

Officially, she is Aunt Janet, my mother’s only sibling, who, with her husband and son lived in a suburb of Pittsburgh.

My brother and I enjoyed going “to the city’ each summer to spend time with them, see some of the sights we didn’t have living in the country and, in general, enjoy the change in scenery and experiences.

An added treat for me was that the best hobby shop I have ever visited was located near their home in one of the first strip malls. The shop specialized in miniature historical figures, scenery and accessories, and, like all kids my age, I had limited funds and an immense imagination.

One product I could find only in that store was tiny replicas of soldiers from the American Civil War. That conflict’s history had captivated me as a pre-teen. I had a Civil War scrapbook into which I pasted all sorts of newspaper features (this was during the Civil War Centennial, 1961-1965), a toy Civil War musket, hats, etc.

But my passion was assembling a not-too-historically-accurate diorama of the Battle of Gettysburg.

To that end, I needed lots and lots of tiny plastic soldiers, blue and gray, which I tediously hand painted. I think when I was finished I had more than 400 posed in different stations across a homemade 4-by-8 foot train table, complete with cavalry, artillery, explosions (shredded cotton balls with a little dark paint were as high-tech as I could get at that time), hills, match-stick snake fences and other paraphernalia. I had a reserve column of Union infantry lined on a rise near one edge of my pretend battlefield that our cat used to wipe out by laying on it. I tired of resetting 60 or so of those one-inch high figures so I eventually put them into the battle and gave the cat the high ground.

Anyway, in order to earn some money for this hobby during my visits to Aunt Janet’s I would do some chores above and beyond the required stuff (making our own bed each morning, making sure our clothes were picked up, regularly bathing).

She always found something to keep me busy while my brother and older cousin were out doing their thing.

I babysat, helped paint the living room, and did a little cleaning, all for cash that I spent on more accessories for my historic obsession.

That was, literally, decades ago. Now Aunt Janet lives with my cousin. She has been experiencing some health problems that have required a couple of hospital stays.

She, like my parents, has become an octogenarian.

However, there are things that age cannot change.

For example, my late brother and I would tease her as much as we could, good naturedly, hence the nickname Sarge. I still tease her. And she still laughs at my corny jokes. And every now and again she tells me that I’m “a good kid.’

Despite the many years that have passed, the relationship remains. So for as long as this earth revolves, she will be my Aunt Janet.

Like I said, there are some things that neither age nor time can change. And that’s the way it should be.

Have a good day.