Words Fail

My aunt passed away early Wednesday morning.  Peacefully.  I've been trying to synthesize the impact her life had on my life and there truly are just not adequate words.  I guess the best way to say it she was just always there. 

My earliest memory of her - a memory that is seared in my brain - is her helping six year old me get my shoes on.  Sitting at the kitchen table in her home with her husband not far away.  She's putting on my shoes and I see my brother walking up the driveway - in his dress Marine uniform - and I say 'Auntie M., why is S. here?'.  She says 'he's going to be so happy to see you and he's going to take you home'.  He was with my older sister and our Uncle from Oklahoma. 

Not too long into that car ride home, my little sister and I would find out that our father - who we had seen in the hospital a day or so before and who said he would be home soon - had died.  Suddenly, tragically.  Gone.  Forever.

There are a lot of parts of my childhood that I know I've blocked memories from.  I frequently have 'zingers' of scattered memories that I try to place - sounds or smells or random fleeting snippets of things that I can't quite form into something meaningful.  But I know from that point on, my Auntie M. was always simply just there for us.  She willingly opened her home to us whenever we needed a place to be - tons of fun play time spent with our cousins.  She pitched in helping our mom navigate doctor appointments and other childhood events.  She sent her husband to any and all Father/Daughter events with me and her husband and two sons were frequently at our house helping with things - Christmas morning finding Hot Wheels tracks from the family room up the steps into the living room, weaving through the house.  My new bike put together by them.  Not to mention any and all household repairs and/or any issues we had.  If we as kids were needing anything - like when our Mom was very sick and we didn't know what to do - we'd call Auntie M. and Uncle J. and they would be there to help.  They helped a lot.

Christmas Eve was always at Auntie M's house - food and fun - always a pinata for the kids.  She created magical memories that I do have total recall of - and I feel so blessed to have her in my life. 
I've had some wonderful women mentors in my life and she's one of the very best - strong, loving, matter-of-fact. 

I was a Girl Scout because of her (she worked for the Girl Scouts for many years) and would push myself way outside my comfort zone because when camp counselors found out who my Aunt was, I didn't want her to ever be disappointed.  Leave the place better than you found it is still my mantra. 

She taught me to cook for an army whilst setting limits.  (Two slices of bacon was a huge treat - but when you're cooking for 20-30 people at whichever cabin we were at, unlimited bacon was out of the question).  Her kitchen was always bustling and the heart of her home. 

When my mom died, J. and the boys and I were staying at a hotel - and she insisted we come stay with her.  I never want to impose on people - but she was absolutely adamant - 'I have tons of room so come here'.  One of my fondest memories during that very hard week was my two sons laying on the floor watching the movie "With Six You Get Eggrolls" with Auntie M. and their parents.  She didn't have a lot of what would be considered 'kid movies' - but the boys loved that movie - and so do I.  She said 'I'm so glad to have a chance to get to know your boys and spend time with them'.  And she said 'they are really good kids'.  They were....and are. 

She created opportunities for her grand kids to spend tons of time together and same for all the cousins.  So many memories of time at the mountain cabin with our cousins.  Seances and rock climbing.  Hiking.  Napping.  Playing crazy card games like Nertz.  (I can't remember the names of all the card games we played). 

We all miss her so much - but mostly, I just think how blessed we all are to have had her in our lives.  I was sad when I heard she had died - but immediately thought 'but she's with J. (her husband who left us decades ago) and her mom and her two oldest children - what a reunion that will be!'.  And Bridge with my mom, too, 'cuz I'm sure heaven has great Bridge games. 

I love you, Auntie M.  Thank you for always being there for me - and for all of us.  You've left behind a legacy of people who continue to grow close to each other no matter the distance.