My aunt Sharon

[cosmolinguist]

My mom's sister died last night.

She didn't want a funeral, so at least I don't feel like I'm missing that.

She's always been far away -- her husband was in the military, so they and their children lived in Germany and Korea when I was young, and when they moved back to the States they were in South Carolina and then Kansas and now she and one or two of her children have been in California.

I've heard a lot of stories about her though: As a child she could fall asleep at the drop of a hat and used this as a way to get out of chores. She and my mom, the younger two of four, had to check under the beds and in the closets and the basement and everything before their older sisters, supposedly looking after then whenever their parents were away, would settle down to sleep. She could draw and paint beautifully; on a wall in my grandparents' house is a portrait she did of them, so young I didn't recognize it as them for years. She was in the Army and drove tanks and met a man she loved there and got married even though he's black and my family are a bunch of racists.

She was my favorite aunt, and her older two children my favorite cousins, even though I hardly ever saw them.

Bright and clear in my mind, though, is one time my grandparents took me with them on the long drive to Kansas. I must have been 13 or so. I had a great time with two of my cousins, swimming in a lake, watching The X-Files, sleeping in a row on the living-room floor because it was too hot to sleep in their tiny bedrooms upstairs...

And still bright and clear in my memory is my aunt, as we were sitting on the floor with our sleeping bags, going from one to the other of her children, standing behind them, bending down to wrap her arms around their shoulders, and saying "Good night. I love you." I smiled at this but felt a weird little pang too; my parents never say they love me. I have always been sure that they do, as sure as I am of my own name, but they're not the types to talk about it.

But then my aunt came to me, wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and said "Good night, I love you" to me too, and my heart soared. The whole world seemed a bit brighter then. Such a little thing but when I'd been pining a bit for that easy display of affection, to be as a rarely-seen niece given the same treatment as her own children probably didn't warrant a second's thought to her but made a big impression on me.

She has been ill for a long time and had a pretty poor quality of life for a while. And it must have been difficult for those two cousins of mine, who had looked after her so well for so long, while pursuing their own careers -- they've both been in the military themselves, and had their own hardships too. I can't begin to imagine how they feel now.

I don't even know what I feel now, other than Not Going Back to Sleep for a While.

Comments

[bunnypip.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry to read your sad news. This is a beautiful write up.

[cosmolinguist]

Thank you for reading about it; that means a lot.

[sfred]

I'm so sorry for your loss.
Thank you for writing about your aunt.
Love you lots.
xx

[cosmolinguist]

I wanted to say something, and I'm glad people wanted to hear about her.

Love you lots, too :)

xx

[strange-complex.livejournal.com]

I'm very sorry to hear about your aunt. Even if it was expected, it must still feel like a horrible loss. She sounds like a great lady.

[cosmolinguist]

It does feel like a horrible loss. She had a series of strokes starting years ago, and developed Alzheimer's disease very early. She was so young -- my mom always called her "my little sister." Not yet 60, and she'd had a hard life. Deserved much better.

[n3m3sis42.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry. She sounds like quite a character.

[cosmolinguist]

I think she was :) She was also a (unknowing) example to me early on of how you could move far away and do things your family might disapprove of and maybe have some weird ideas (she was convinced their house in Kansas was haunted, and told my mom that my brother came to her in a dream after he died and said he was fine and didn't want my mom to be sad, or something like that).

I think I have made good on some of those examples in my own life (except for the ghost thing). :)

[ultraruby.livejournal.com]

Ah Holly, I'm really sorry. Love to you and to your family. xx

[cosmolinguist]

Thanks so much, G xx

[k425.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry for your loss. She sounds like a lovely woman.

[cosmolinguist]

I'm sorry too...but in a way we lost her years ago already. Even my mom was able to be philosophical about it, pointing out that she wouldn't have liked to have lived like this, having been so dependent on her children and then a care home.

Of course it's still awful, and I'm very worried about my grandpa who understandably is taking it very hard and his heart's been so bad anyway... but my mom's able to be with my grandparents today, and my mom's other faraway sister is flying to Minnesota this week anyway because they've all planned a vacation together starting Saturday, and I hope that is a happy and healing time for my mom's family.

[uglybuffy.livejournal.com]

Very very sorry. Have a bulldog hug.

[cosmolinguist]

Thanks. I must volunteer for Semtex-walking duty again at some point soon :)

[innerbrat]

I'm very glad she was in your life.

[cosmolinguist]

I am too. I wish I'd had more chances to tell her, but I'm glad I've gotten to tell all of you.

[quuf.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry, H.

[cosmolinguist]

Thank you. I am, too.

[jem0000000.livejournal.com]

*hugs*

[cosmolinguist]

That's all there is to say, really. I appreciate it. ::hugs::

[barakta]

Sorry for your loss, it is lovely to hear a little about your connections to your aunt and the vital and sometimes small but massive things which are of lifelong importance to you.

[cosmolinguist]

Absolutely. I'm all about the small, seemingly-unimportant things.

[plumsbitch.livejournal.com]

So very sorry. Beautiful writing, nearly cried myself at the 'big hug' bit, many hugs can happy tomorrow as can distraction/leaving ou alone and a variety of other things.

cxxx

[cosmolinguist]

I'm looking forward to hugs. Definitely not in a mood to be left alone.

xxxxx

[plumsbitch.livejournal.com]

ok then. Probably leaving here in an hour or so, will text you from train. Cxx

[patrick-vecchio.livejournal.com]

It sounds as if your aunt was a positive presence in your life. She will continue to be one.

[cosmolinguist]

She will continue to be one.

Thank you for that especially.

[andrewducker]

That was very touching. I'm glad you had her in your life.

[cosmolinguist]

I am, too. Thanks for reading about her.

[andrewducker]

My pleasure.

(I do read everything you write. I just don't have very much to say most of the time at the moment.)

[cosmolinguist]

Oh I didn't mean to imply you (or anyone) don't read what I write; I'm just especially happy that people are even slightly interested in someone they don't know who is important to me.

I read everything you write too and don't comment a lot, so I'm fine about that, but thank you for the reassurance anyway.

[nodressrehersal.livejournal.com]

But then my aunt came to me, wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and said "Good night, I love you" to me too, and my heart soared. The whole world seemed a bit brighter then.

That brought tears to my eyes and put a lump in my throat - bittersweet and poignant. I hope you'll put these thoughts in a card or email and send them off to your cousins. If they affected me this way, I can only imagine how much they'd love to read them.

[cosmolinguist]

I'm trying to non-obtrusively get contact details for my cousins. I imagine they must have so much to be dealing with right now -- the funeral's today and it's halfway across the country from where they (last I heard) lived, so the logistics on top of everything else must be a nightmare.

[halfshellvenus.livejournal.com]

I"m so sorry about your aunt. I didn't make it to this part of my friends' list until just now (I'm behind), and I knew she was having trouble, but not that she'd passed away.

The story about camping out in the living room and being included in her love-- that was just a beautiful moment, and such a wonderful way to remember her.

Later, if you feel up to it, you might write to your cousins and share that with them and any other special memories you might have of her. I think it would mean a lot to them, to know that other people noticed that she was special, for true reasons like that one.

*hugs*