Remembering My Aunt Shirley Ella Knowles (Peterson)

I was driving in New Hampshire, headed toward the beautiful Lake Winnipesaukee area on Tuesday evening when I got the message from my Mom. My Aunt Shirley had passed away, up in New Brunswick, Canada.

I think my Mom said it pretty well on her post to social media, “The Lord quietly took my oldest sister [Shirley Peterson Knowles] Home to Heaven early last evening. She had lived her whole adult life on the campus of New Brunswick Bible Institute where her husband served on staff until his Homegoing. Shirley loved and honored the Lord Jesus in her daily living. Her six children all serve in some capacity of ministry. For many years she and I had weekly phone conversations. I will miss her greatly.”

Shirley Ella Knowles, February 4, 1933 – August 25, 2020

I remember playing innocent family card games at the Knowles residence that often ran late into the evening. Most of the time the games got loud and quite hilarious. Many of them included a visit to the piano at some point, definitely some singing, and other loud noises that defy description. Actually, I am pretty sure that we made up quite a few songs during those games. If only we had a tour bus back then. But then, I could never hold my own singing with those Knowles kids.

I remember Aunt Shirley using every square inch of counter space and basically anything else that was parallel to the floor for laying out things like pickles, egg, pasta, potato type salads and sandwiches galore. I am pretty sure there was usually a punch bowl of some sort in most cases.

I recall the importance of the double decker clothesline and that all of us took turns helping getting laundry in or out. Trapeze artists would have been jealous of the set up off of the entryway area. We generally spent a fair amount of time playing outside because we were gently recommended to be out of the house.

Aunt Shirley definitely had a lead foot while driving. I am pretty sure I saw daylight under her tires at times going over the hills and through the troughs on Route 103, following her heading south from Hartland or Simonds. Never did catch her.

Since I share the same name as one of her sons, I distinctly recall two things that were completely unique to Aunt Shirley and I, and constant through all of the years that our lives overlapped.

1. She always called me Stephen. Never Steve. Right up to our last visit two years ago.
2. She addressed me as Stephen with a flair and pronunciation that carried a similar intensity to that of trying to catch her on Route 103. As only a mother would address one of her children in the calling out of their name.

She was funny. She was so dear. And just when all seemed calm she’d bellow out a comment or one-liner that would bring the house down.

She fiercely loved her family as well as her Lord and Saviour. You only needed to listen to her for a minute or two to know that.

See, I am the fortunate one. For many years I have had the pleasure to take my Dad and Mom, or just Mom, to New Brunswick to visit with her brothers, sisters, double cousins and more. My parents would make the rounds, visiting with everyone they could, over a few days or a week. And this kid (me) would drive and otherwise just tag along, now in my 50’s, but still the kid, especially as it related to the respected generation that came before me, I am the fortunate one. Not everyone is so blessed to spend so much time with their heroes. If you want a glimpse of why they are my heroes, check out All My Heroes.

So, as I sit here with tears running down my cheeks, you might get a sense of what Aunt Shirley and the likes of her, mean to me. I will often thank God for my upbringing, my parents, my family, my aunts and uncles. I am so very thankful that many of the greatest people I have ever met have been a part of my life since I was born. Honestly, how awesome is that?!?!? Oh I wish I could sit in the living room on Victoria Corner and be the kid in the room, listening to my Mom, Aunt Shirley, with other aunts and double cousins, carrying on in conversation and prayers. I would sit quietly, and pick my spots to interject something humorous, something I learned from my Dad. I am the fortunate one. What a generation. It has been my pleasure and supreme joy to so often be able to jump generations with my family, the heroes of my life.

I will definitely miss her. She grew up with 9 siblings in a farmhouse and she had the volume to prove it. Her, “Hello, hello!” greetings are unforgettable. You probably could have heard her on the other side of the St. John River, but there was joy in that exclamation. There was also an expectation set (in my mind) with her greeting that implied she was up for the interaction and I had better be up for it too. I love that thought of her. Who wouldn’t want to step into her home?

Click on the gallery, and then click on any picture you wish to enlarge. Thank you Becky.