On Friday I received news of the death of my Aunt Sally. At first I felt numb to this event - she had struggled with serious health problems for the past few years, and this seemed to be a timely relief to her suffering. We had not seen each other for many years, and we seldom corresponded anymore. This morning a lot of memories came flooding back, and I realized my great personal loss and just how much I am going to miss her.
When I was a little girl, my family would stay with Aunt Sally at her home in the Pacific Palisades. She had a beautiful home on a tree-lined street. She had a swimming pool and a garage full of children's toys. In her house there were pianos and paintings, and her two sons had their own rooms - one of them slept in a loft. In her modern 1970's kitchen there was a trash compactor and tickets to Disneyland stuck to the refrigerator with magnets. Her children had rockets. She made amazing dinners and desserts, and in her home meals were served at a dining room table (which seemed alien to me). I remember her husband smoking cigars in the parlor and teaching his sons how to swim. I remember the family dog, Skipper.
In the Summertime our families would meet up on the coast of Maine. We rowed and sailed boats, we walked through the woods and on the beach, we gathered seashells and blueberries, we drew height-lines on the closet door, we sat on the porch and did nothing. Granny Becky and Aunt Sally and Aunt Debby sat and smoked cigarettes and kvetched. I honestly cannot remember what the rest of the family was doing.
One year Aunt Sally took me on a cross-country drive back to California with her son Michael. We visited friends and family in Connecticut and Massachusetts. We drove past New York City (I could see it in the distance). We camped in a tent and read Edgar Allen Poe by flashlight. We visited Graceland in Memphis, Tennessee. The next stop I can recall was a visit with cousins in Albuquerque, and at the end of the trip we stayed in a fancy hotel and ate at a fancy restaurant - I think this was in Las Vegas. Then I was back on an airplane to the streets of San Francisco.
Sally was a lovely woman, she was sunny and happy - I can still hear her laugh. She was bold and adventurous. She was thoughtful and kind. She sent birthday cards. I still have a little porcelain box she gave me when I was 12, with a peacock painted on it. She was my Aunt Sally, and I loved her very much.
