LAST AUNT    I got a call from my cousin in Buffalo.  Her mother was taken to the hospital from the assisted living center where she lived.  My aunt was expected to be hospitalized for a little while.  My cousin was spending time with her mom, 24 hours a day.  

I had done the same when my husband was dying of cancer, so I knew the exhaustion my cousin must be feeling.  It is important that I support her...and see my aunt , perhaps for one last time. 

My daughter lives about half way between my house in Connecticut and my cousin's house on Lake Erie.   Beth agrees to take my dog.  The first stop is at Beth's for an overnight stay, drop off Captain Jack and perhaps make a shopping trip to the Farmer's Market ...my favorite thing to do in Syracuse.

At the Farmer's Market, I load up on produce and good grass fed beef.  It all goes into a bin in the back of my truck.  The intention is to cook for my cousin.  She will be too tired to cook after spending so much time at the hospital.  

The day I arrived in Syracuse, my cell phone rings.  My aunt has died.  I am now going to a funeral.

Christine is about 12 years younger than I am. ..and very beautiful.   She is a real estate agent.  She owns several pieces of property that she rents out.  That is how she earns her living.   As I drive up to her house, I note how well designed it is...and maintained.  My beautiful cousin is quite competent.  She swings a hammer with the best of them.  She knows how to use a riding mower...and how to maintain it.  Christine was widowed about 3 years ago, so she maintains her properties alone.

She turns her bedroom over to me and she sleeps on the couch.  How gracious can she get?   In the morning, We are going to the Episcopal Church that my Aunt went to faithfully.  At one time, I was an organist and choir director for an Episcopal church in Buffalo, so I know the liturgy.  All is well...until they wheel my aunt's casket up to the alter.  We are all crying.


I see cousins I rarely see...and their children.  My delight is to call them "first cousins once removed"...which confuses them, even if it is true.

The ceremony is followed by a drive to the cemetery, where my aunt is interred...then to a restaurant for a nice luncheon with an open bar.   I have lost my last aunt, but I have reconnected to a part of the family that seemed to be disconnecting.  One "first cousin once removed" seems especially grateful to have some family to come home to.  He has been living several states away by himself.   I feel the bonds of reconnection.  It feels good. It feels healing.

Well, I can't impose on Christine any longer.  I treat her to a restaurant meal of her choice.  She chooses Mexican.  Lots of hugs and promises to stay connected.  I leave Christine and drive to Nancy's house.  I've known Nancy since I was a freshman in high school.  We were both art majors together...but had different art teachers.  We were also in Triangle Girls together.  Nancy was elected Queen.  I played the organ for their ceremonies.  What fun We had...especially when there were square dances with the Demole boys. 

Nancy and I went to different high schools when my parents moved.  We reconnected at Buffalo State as Art Ed Majors.  We were grouped together , had the same classes together.  Our friendship deepened.  Nancy is so smart, She graduated Suma Cum Laude...I hope I spelled that right.  I was nominated for a class officer, but I turned it down, as I was holding down 2 jobs to pay for college.  There just wasn't any more time or energy for this honor.

Nancy is an artist.  She has a studio in her home.  I've invited myself to her house.  We can paint together.  We do!  It is really fun to socialize and paint together.   Nancy takes me to parts of Buffalo to enjoy a Buffalo Spring.  The harbor is much changed, but Forest Lawn is the same...timeless.  We go shopping in the art district.  I am eating this up.   Nancy gives me some of the solution she uses to clean her glasses.  Mine were getting smeared.   I take her out to a restaurant of her choice.  It is in the art district, of course.   I've bought a skirt from an international import company.  We talk to the clerks there.  Both clerks have escaped horrible conditions in their native country.  One was from Rwanda.  I admire that they can understand more than one language.  I have tried, but I don't have the ear for language.  

Time to go back, pick up my dog, have dinner with my Syracuse family.....and back to Connecticut.