A Tribute

No one said life would be dull. Or how many things would get thrown at you while you're trying to find your place in the world. Just when I thought things had settled down just a bit, again, a canon ball got hurled through one of my sails. I was awakened early this morning by a phone call from my cousin. Her mother had just passed away. I couldn't make out the story because I was struggling with remaining cobwebs of a dream and she was crying. At first I didn't cry because I knew my aunt was no longer in pain. That she was tired and she finally made her exit. I hung up because my cousin's brother had arrived, wherever they were. And then I started to cry.

My Aunt Beverly wasn't my favorite aunt. But in our own little way we had some special moments. I was one of her flower girls when she remarried many moons ago. I loved her house and the smell of it. I could make her laugh with my stories. She liked, appreciated, and encouraged my art endeavors. I could talk to her about many things and she listened. We would go on walks to the neighborhood store and get the best corned beef sandwiches. When I was younger she would pay me to drive her places. She made the best macaroni and cheese. From scratch, what some are now calling custard style. You know how when you have a get-together and people bring a dish? You wanted Bev to bring the mac 'n cheese.

Aunt Beverly was a talker. Non-stop. She would have been a great hostage negotiator because she would just talk the individual down. Into submission. Talking about them and why they're doing what they're doing, then talking about her odd family, then the weather, and then the state of the world. Not being able to get a word in, they would pay the cops to take them away. As a child I saw her in action, there was no winning an argument with her. She'd wear you down and you'd just throw your hands up and walk away. And she did that by never really raising her voice. She was firm and steady, but not loud. Then I'd always see a smile or a smirk on her face after the disagreement, she'd roll her eyes and be on to the next thing. Talent, sheer talent.

We all thought Aunt Beverly would outlast us all even though she had smoked a lot. Giving it up years ago. She had tuberculosis as a child, later having a lung removed; two marriages and two divorces; two children and two grandchildren; survived breast cancer, she suffered a heart attack and two strokes. The last stroke was the one that wore her tiny body out. I was going to stay with her for a few days out of the week this spring but now that won't happen. I am glad she was able to stay in her home until the end.

Aunt Beverly was my last living aunt on my mother's side. One of a set of twins, her twin Beryl was my third favorite aunt; out of a total of 14 children. My mom's sisters were amazing to me. One, Ruth, passed before I was born so I didn't get a chance to meet her. But the ones who were in my life were funny, caring, hardworking, adventurous, talented, and a little bit left and right of center. They were wonderfully unique. I am so honored to have had them in my life. Mildred, Bernice, Bobbie, Margaret, Ozetta, and Beryl.

Aunt Beverly is with them now and Granny. Talking and laughing and drinking. I know she has her beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Aunt Bev, I will miss you and always remember you.

Cheers!