Auntie Babe: January 10, 1942 - May 26, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009 at 6:53PM A week ago tomorrow, we very unexpectedly lost a member of our family. My husband's Auntie Babe.
A mere two or three weeks ago we noticed a lump on her neck; a lump that grew in the following days. A lump her doctor wanted biopsied. That biopsy was scheduled for the day after she died. It all happened so very fast. Last Monday (the day before a follow up appointment about blood work), my husband Chris took his aunt to the hospital because she was doubling over in stomach pain. There was a lump on her abdomen too we discovered. That lump grew to be four lumps by Tuesday morning and she was moved by ambulance to another hospital for a CT scan. The scan revealed little about the problems in her gut, but confirmed the neck lump was a tumor growing inward... pushing on her esophagus and carotid artery. All of this combined with health that wasn't great to begin with meant there was little anyone could do. Her condition deteriorated at a blazing pace and she died just after 10pm that night.
The background to this story is long, complicated and quite frankly? Not really mine to tell I guess. What I will tell you will be in generalities from my own opinion and perspective. I hope I serve her and my husband Chris well.
Eleven years ago, Chris asked me to move in with him. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was elated. Delighted; thrilled, because I knew in my heart I was meant to be with him. I couldn't wait to move one step closer to tomorrow. Chris had just bought an adorable house for himself and his aunt. She'd lived with him for 6 years officially; but really, he's lived close to or with her for most of his life. At the time, she was about 56. Still fairly young, but anyone who's ever met her assumed she was 20 years older. An unremarkable life - aside from the tragic death of her seven year old decades earlier and an ensuing alcohol addiction aged her and stole life from her future.
Chris had a lousy upbringing. I know he'd hate for it to be referred to that way, but compared to most, it was unfortunate to say the least. He was pretty much raised by his grandmother - a blessing really when you consider both of his parent's battled alcoholism; and lost. He lost his mother to cirrhosis just before he was 20 and his father similarly only two years later.
Many of his childhood recantations involved meager living arrangements. Chris, his aunt, grandmother as well as his mother toward the end of her life, sharing as little as a one room apartment with a shared bathroom down the hall. Chris grew up sleeping on a foam pad on the floor. When I think about it... it's so very sad. Yet when he tells the stories of his youth, they're always from a positive and happy perspective. Even the crap... The shit moments that most of us would be either ashamed of, remorseful for or simply choose to keep private, are the amusing and heartfelt stories of a cherished and nostalgic childhood. There is much to be learned from his blatant acceptance of his circumstances; he's adopted a "make the best of it" attitude for his entire life. It's served him well, humbled me countless times and has always benefited those around him, because he always puts others' needs ahead of his own. Because of the person he is, his aunt lived safe, happily and far longer than she would have otherwise.
Chris promised his grandmother before she died that he'd look after his aunt. I won't get into why or why neither of her SONS took that responsibility... I'll only say that Chris accepted that overwhelming responsibility without blinking and not once over the past 17 years has he regretted or waned on that promise.
In the early days a pretty scary incident saw Chris rush his aunt to the ER. Her doctor told Chris she needed to stop drinking or she'd be dead in six months. I can only assume her organs were severely damaged. Like any challenge, Chris managed to clean her up and keep her away from alcohol. I'm sure it wasn't easy, but he did it. Some damage of course remained a struggle for her. Her short term memory was completely shot. Her doctor figured she'd likely had a stroke down the line, it just got missed because of chronic alcoholism. It was something that wouldn't ever get better. It just needed to be managed. She didn't work, she didn't "do" much of anything really, but that was her routine. She'd watched loads of tv, played solitaire and did word search puzzles. Her banal daily routine was her constant, her way of life. She liked it that way.
So you see... Chris' aunt was a big part of the package when he asked me to move in with him... I never faltered though and jumped right in. I loved him. And I learned to love his aunt too. Even though she collected plastic ties and bread bags. Even though she'd close all the windows in a heat wave and put on a sweater. Even though she always wore ratty clothes because she didn't want to ruin her nice (and clean) clothes... Even though she'd ask the exact same question over and over and over again and checked locks on doors with a fervor comparable only to someone with OCD. Even though she did everything at a snails pace and watched the most hateful crap on television and even though SHE was really the queen of the house (and NOT me - much to my chagrin), even though she'd steal and stash all the toilet paper and toothpaste in the house... even through all of that and more, I learned to love her and all her quirks. She was a part of my family. And I will miss her. I know Chris will miss her. He loved her dearly and his commitment to her speaks volumes about that.
Rest in peace Babe. May you be reunited with the loved ones you lost along the way; especially your little boy.
Reader Comments (1)
A moving post, thanks for sharing. It's nice to hear that less than ideal circumstances turned into something positive and a "make the best of it" attitude. Chris sounds like a real gem.