We were never quite sure what Great Aunty’s religious beliefs were, whilst she was alive. She always kept that kind of information, plus anything else she considered to be personal (including her clothing size), very close to her chest.
We all went to her with our problems – we knew we could trust her, without question.
I did worry that she might have committed all of our angst to a lifetime’s worth of diaries. Thankfully, this wasn’t the case. The only handwritten books in her rambling house were those containing shopping lists. It’s odd, isn’t it, what we keep?
The ancient idol was a relic from a Pacific Island religion that is now nearly dormant. The idol would absorb everything that was spoken in its presence, so that when you passed over, you would die ‘clean’.
Thank you, Great Aunty. I’ve been a very bad woman during my life and confessed everything to you. It’s nice to think that I will be clean as well.