Aunt Rosie

I've just returned from an almost-month long trip visiting with my daughter and her now-extended family.  Lots of tales to tell, but this is the most pressing one.

My daughter Megan is in possession of a smart phone that does everything but brush her teeth for her...and she is skilled at using it.  In mere seconds, she can find information that would take me much longer.  If she and the phone are present, I don't even try for myself because I know she can do it faster.

One day, Meg and I were sitting at the dining room table talking about some topic or other, and the subject of Aunt Rosie came up.  Aunt Rosie is the only remaining relative of my parents' generation--my mother's sister.  I made the offhand comment that my sister had suggested that Aunt Rosie's only child, a son called "Sandy" in the family because of the color of his hair at birth, likely wouldn't even tell us if she died, due to his perception of mistreatment by family members.  (Me, mostly.)  We went on to talk about other things while Meg fiddled with her phone, and suddenly, she chucked it onto the table and shrieked, "Damn!  He didn't!  What a jerk!  She died!"  Unbeknownst to me, Meg had Googled Rose Anne McPherson and came up with her obituary from the Streator, IL, newspaper. Thus it was that I learned that Aunt Rosie is no longer with us, and hadn't been since October 28th!

I wasn't the only one out of the loop.  It appears that none of her remaining relatives (nieces, in this case) were informed that she had been admitted to a nursing home and had died with only her errant son in attendance.  She was cremated and buried in a "private family burial" in our family plots. Although Aunt Rosie was a veteran, it appears that she was given no rites at all.  I would be shocked if anyone in the family on either side knew of her demise unless they read it in the local paper of Streator, IL, but no one lives where they could see that.

I have shed a tear or two.  There were problems to deal with, but I felt that I was doing my share to mend fences.  I was calling her every few months.  I thought I was doing well...with her.  Guess I hadn't reckoned with her son.  Had I known that A. Rosie was in a nursing home, I would have driven the four hours to see her at least once.  The last time I talked to her on the phone was maybe six months ago.  When I asked how she was, she said "As well as any almost-91-year-old person can be." She sounded just like my normal Aunt Rosie.  My sister sent her a birthday card early in March.  She had already passed by then, but Sandy didn't bother to inform Shari of that.

It's all so sad.  Sandy...if not the rest of that branch of the family...pretty much cut themselves off from everyone with their unsubstantiated perceptions of how things are/were.  Aunt Rosie deserved better.  We loved her dearly, in spite of her stubborn ways.

Rest well in the bosom of your family, Aunt Rosie.  They were waiting for you.  We here on earth weren't quite so ready...