She was like a rock star, without the touring schedule. Everyone loved Auntie and it seemed like everyone was always going to visit her. I was often lucky enough to stop by and visit her after school. I would listen to her stories, even those that made little sense to me or that I was fairly certain I had heard her tell before pulled me in and raised an eyebrow. I am not sure how many times I heard Auntie tell the story of herself and a loaf of bread flying over the handlebars of the bicycle she was riding when she was young. It made me laugh when my mother would ask what Auntie and I talked about because many times my response was, "I don't know. She was telling a story about something and I was getting so lost trying to follow along." Maybe the stories she repeated were to give me another crack at figuring them out, or it was like a comedian going through some of their best material. Auntie was comical. It was hard to hold back my laughter at half of the things she said, the best being her sayings from another room in moments of frustration -- "hot turkey" and "fiddlesticks" were among my personal favorites on the menu. It is a good thing she never told me to "take a powder," "fry ice," or "walk up State Street hill" because these visuals out of left field would have me lose it. It is nice to write these and have the laugh in a time that probably many of us need it.
Auntie gave her time and love to so many people. I heard my father ask her once how tall she was and she answered 4'10." Her presence and positive effect on others reached far beyond any physical heights, though. I thank you Auntie for being in my life, always. I love you. -- Matthew
Posted by Matthew Brown
Wednesday February 7, 2018 at 1:26 pm