I'm not sure how I feel about that comment. You see, my Great Aunt Dorothy passed away on Tuesday. She was a great old gal, capable of cracking you up even from her hospital bed. She only ended up slowly losing that humour once she moved permanently into the "Center for the Aged". Her Parkinsons simply became too much for Uncle Charlie to handle, so she wound up living five blocks from her house with Uncle Charlie visiting her every other day until he had to sell the house and moved one floor above her at Mount Hope. (What the hell kind of name is that for a place that cares for people who no longer have any?)

Mom and I would sneak in a visit about once a month, much to her delight. She would always give me a shaky hug, peer into my eyes and ask the same question, "Are you pregnant yet?"

"No, Aunt Dorothy, not yet," would be my uneasy reply.

"Well, it will happen when it's supposed to happen," she would say comfortingly. Still, I would have liked to have been able to give her some good news before she left us...

In the last six months, she told Mom that she'd prefer it if I didn't come anymore, since she was obviously deteriorating and didn't want me to see her like that. It was more and more difficult to understand her, and she was so shaky it wasn't even possible for her to write or type her conversations or wishes. She began to wonder aloud why she was still here, telling Mom, "this is no kind of life."

Aunt Dorothy is the last of the Card-Playing Four. Grandma, Grandpa, Uncle Charlie and Aunt Dorothy spent one weekend each month hunkered down at a card table, drinking whiskey and accusing each other of cheating at Euchre. It'd be nice to think maybe they're getting a game going right now...

So, while I have lost a true Smartass Role Model, it may well be a blessing for the person who has been in so much discomfort for so long. I'll have to make an effort to not be so selfish when people make that comment at the funeral.

Catch you on the flip side, Aunt D. xo

Posted at 11:03 a.m.