My own family is full of good, sweet, honest people. From my earliest memories I draw good feelings, despite the challenges from losing my dad at such a young age. When we went to East Texas we were always welcomed with warmth and love...all the things you need when you're young.
My family...the generation before us...were older than most, at least compared to my peers. My mom, the youngest of four sisters, is 46 years my senior. Today she is the last of her sisters.
Today my Aunt Lorine, whom I saw as the most elegant of my aunts, passed away. Her late husband, Carl, a former Scouter, was a model for me as a good and kind and funny man. The two of them were the best of people.
All my uncles served their roles for me in place of my missing dad. My aunts provided the warmth and love any family should enjoy. For a few lucky months I lived among them full-time, at a time when it really counted. Good people, in a good place, doing what family is supposed to do.
This is the way of things. We come, we grow, we live, and we die. Along the way we are touched by those who love us, and we touch those we love. Hopefully, we remember to cherish those moments and feelings...they are the only things that are truly real, more concrete than the solid objects of our everyday world.
Last to remain, besides my mom, Grace, is my Uncle Vivian, husband to my late Aunt Maxine. In his prime he was, I believe, a grocer. In the war he was a Quartermaster...fitting to his calling. All of this might be wrong...it's something I remember from my childhood.
Goodbye, Aunt Lorine. I love you, and thank you for the gift of your love...and for what you and Carl meant to us all.
