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Aunt Mary
The snow collects the good with the bad, as can be seen when it melts. This blog is my snow, holding onto my experiences. |
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is one of my favorite people. She used to be a teacher before I was born, and she had such an impact on her students, that some of them still wrote her decades later to thank her. She let my brother and I play on her keyboard, and taught us how to use some other stringed instrument (can't think of name). We nailed popped-up nails back into place on her balcony. Snapdragons were her favorite flower, and I'd bring her them in spring. She loved crocheting, and was good at it. I got warm mittens and special blankets. Aunt Mary always smiled and had good things to say, yet as kids, we always had to behave around her and be more respectful than in other situations. She loved music, and came to my choir concerts. I remember one time, she tripped at my elementary school, and said there should be a yellow stripe on the curb, and now there is. I don't know why she's so special to me, but she is. She was on oxygen the whole time I've known her, and was close to my Aunt Jane (her niece). Aunt Mary ended up in a nursing home, and shrank, and lost her memory. She thought my dad was her brother (40ish year difference?), and just wasn't there. She's the one who called me "cute as a bug in a rug" when I visited. It was so hard to see her out-of-it. She was such a strong woman, and independent. When she stopped doing cross-word puzzles and crocheting, I knew she was letting go. I learned a lot about her at the funeral, and about my family in general. You can cross-reference this entry with that of