I have written several times about my aunt Alice Marie, or A.M., as she is known. I’ve written about how she fell and had to go into the hospital, about how she had to go into assisted living, about how she wanted to go home, about moving her home and just last week about shopping with her and Maggie at Trader Joe’s. However, I never really wrote about her. And now she is gone.
A.M passed away at home just one month after leaving assisted living. She was an independent woman from the start, so it is fitting that she would be back on her own and living independently when she passed. She was, in many ways, a woman ahead of her time. She had a career, never married or had kids, and lived life on her own terms.
Her several siblings married and produced 32 children between them. I had five aunts, but AM was the aunt who was different from the rest. She drove a Volkswagen bug when the rest of us had station wagons. Forty years ago, she moved downtown, which was wild, and sold her car because she didn’t need one. That was unheard of. She and her friend Shirley used to rent cars when they wanted to go somewhere. We thought that was exotic.
My sister Ellen reminded me that when she came to visit there was always a bag filled with goodies, food treats that were either things we generally did not have in our house or, more likely, things that did not last more than five minutes in our house. Christmas meant a gift from A.M. that was always wrapped in the same wrapping paper. For years. All those nieces and nephews received gifts always wrapped in the same paper. (I always wondered how big that roll was.) You knew immediately which gift was from A.M. The gifts themselves were always something unique. Not extravagant, but thoughtful; and because it came from A.M., we generally thought it was exotic, too.
A.M had a well-developed sense of humor and strong opinions. She intertwined the two freely, which could be sidesplitting and exasperating at the same time. The next generation, my kids and their cousins etc, found her especially hilarious because she would say things that other people in their grandparent's generation would never say. Moreover, she would say them in a very colorful way. That was part of the exasperation for my generation, because many of us had become the staid middle agers that she never was.
A.M. was proud of her strong family ties, and proud of her independence, too. She was generous with her love and she would give you the shirt off her back if you needed it. She asked only for love in return. She was much loved and will be greatly missed.
St. Peter will have his hands full dealing with her at the pearly gates.
A.M passed away at home just one month after leaving assisted living. She was an independent woman from the start, so it is fitting that she would be back on her own and living independently when she passed. She was, in many ways, a woman ahead of her time. She had a career, never married or had kids, and lived life on her own terms.
Her several siblings married and produced 32 children between them. I had five aunts, but AM was the aunt who was different from the rest. She drove a Volkswagen bug when the rest of us had station wagons. Forty years ago, she moved downtown, which was wild, and sold her car because she didn’t need one. That was unheard of. She and her friend Shirley used to rent cars when they wanted to go somewhere. We thought that was exotic.
My sister Ellen reminded me that when she came to visit there was always a bag filled with goodies, food treats that were either things we generally did not have in our house or, more likely, things that did not last more than five minutes in our house. Christmas meant a gift from A.M. that was always wrapped in the same wrapping paper. For years. All those nieces and nephews received gifts always wrapped in the same paper. (I always wondered how big that roll was.) You knew immediately which gift was from A.M. The gifts themselves were always something unique. Not extravagant, but thoughtful; and because it came from A.M., we generally thought it was exotic, too.
A.M had a well-developed sense of humor and strong opinions. She intertwined the two freely, which could be sidesplitting and exasperating at the same time. The next generation, my kids and their cousins etc, found her especially hilarious because she would say things that other people in their grandparent's generation would never say. Moreover, she would say them in a very colorful way. That was part of the exasperation for my generation, because many of us had become the staid middle agers that she never was.
A.M. was proud of her strong family ties, and proud of her independence, too. She was generous with her love and she would give you the shirt off her back if you needed it. She asked only for love in return. She was much loved and will be greatly missed.
St. Peter will have his hands full dealing with her at the pearly gates.
May A.M rest in peace, Its sounds
ReplyDeletelike she was a fabulous lady:)
Amanda and girls