My beautiful Aunt Claudia was all about the good things in life. She was the type of person who always set out her most elegant table settings for a special occasion... like for example an overcast Tuesday afternoon in May. This is because her regular, every day table settings were elegant, and every single day was considered a special occasion. A simple lunch for visiting family included homemade pastries, freshly prepared salad with crisp lettuce and a selection of dressings, including Russian, for those guests who happen to enjoy Russian dressing. Even when I was very young and perhaps didn't fully appreciate the details, I always felt special when I sat down at her table, as if I were as important as any guest she'd ever had join her there.

Everything about my aunt was quality and class, but she was also incredibly genuine and down to earth. She valued her friends, many of whom she had retained since her childhood school days, and strived to keep in touch with them often. She never skimped on the important details, but she never seemed bothered if something didn't work out as planned or if cranberry juice were spilled on the tablecloth.

Still, I always remember feeling as if I ought to remember my manners a little more acutely while I was there. Boldly patterned walls and curtains, plush, pristine carpeting, and a grand piano contributed to a home that just seemed to command respect. Exquisite art adorned every room, including original paintings by my grandmother and by my Dad (her brother), and prints created by her childhood friend, Christopher Pratt and Mary Pratt as well.

One of my favourite memories took place in June of 2006 when Aunt Claudia invited my Dad and me to attend an opening of Christopher Pratt's exhibit at The Rooms Provincial Art Gallery. During the reception, she purchased two copies of the artist's most recent collection of work, and handed one of them to me with a smile but without explanation, as if she just knew how much I would have loved to have it.

I greatly enjoyed the relationship I shared with my aunt; I've always felt like we shared a love of culture, words and art. My entire life, I spent at most two weeks out of the year in the same city as her but those visits helped shape who I am as a Newfoundlander. I can't say Pippy Park, Duckworth Street, or Quidi Vidi (either pronunciation) without hearing her own voice speaking these place names. Whether we were visiting with her and my Uncle Frank at their home in St. John's, or out at their cabin in Manuels, Conception Bay South, where the two photographs I've posted here were taken, we were always treated to a scrumptious meal and spirited conversation, with lots of compliments, lots of hugging, and lots of love.

Claudia O'Connor 1935-2012