Nothing like a death in the family to make you rethink things a bit. My father’s sister, my aunt; the last living child of my grandfather has passed away.
There are a lot of things I could say, a lot of things I’ve deleted, and a lot of things I won’t say. What I would like to do is honor her by saying that she was kind-hearted and all my memories of her are good memories.
Her name was Melba, but I knew her as Auntie Bob – don’t ask, ’cause I don’t know. My dad told me once why we call her Bob, but that was when I was very young, and I don’t remember. I will think of her with fondness and know that there is a party in the afterlife welcoming her home.