1. It's Christmas and he needs to know what my mom wants.
2. It's mom's birthday and he needs to know what she wants.
3. We're buying a home and he's our realtor.
4. Somebody died.
Since mom's birthday is in February, Christmas is still over four months away, and we're currently not in the market to buy a home, I knew option four was the only explanation.
"Tenny...it's dad. I'm calling with some bad news. Aunt Dot died tonight."
Aunt Dot, (few called her Dorothy), was my great aunt. (Man, its weird to already be referring to her in the past tense). Those who had the fortune to meet her would tell you she was a real character. She could work a room at a party like no other. She was a proud San Francisco native who always dressed to the nines when she was about town. She was very Irish, and very Catholic. She would be the first to tell you how the quality of the veal scaloppini at Westlake Joe's had slipped over the years as well.
She loved coffee and Anna's butter cookies. She also adored my husband to death and still fondly talked about our wedding, seven years later. I received a card from her around Christmas last year and she was still writing about what a good time she had that day. In her eyes, I had hit the jackpot with my husband...Irish, Catholic, white, and nice to cats. She used to pinch his cheeks and tell him, "I just love that face!"
Here is Aunt Dot at my wedding with my mom (left) and aunt Suzanne (right):
An avid cat lover, Aunt Dot rescued feral cats in order to get them fixed and to help stop the kitty overpopulation problem. She had many as pets at her house as well. Once Tim asked her how many cats she had and she quickly responded that a gentleman NEVER asks a woman how many cats she has. We were perplexed at how it was insulting, but it has become one of our favorite stories over the years.
Aunt Dot lived in Diamond Heights in San Francisco way up on a hill. She had great views of the city she loved. I only went to her house a few times, but I remember it being neat and tidy. She was always delicate, and her eyes twinkled when she told a story.
I lost my grandpa to cancer three years ago. Aunt Dot was devastated about the loss of her brother, or little Johnny, as she called him. I remember when he passed, we had all gathered together as a family at his house. I had never seen her so distraught. I don't think she was quite the same after he died. Perhaps none of us were.
They just don't make them like this anymore. My late aunt and grandfather, AKA, "Little Johnny."
I knew Aunt Dot was having kidney problems and was on dialysis, but I didn't know how severe her symptoms were. When dad called tonight, I felt the most overwhelming sense of guilt and loss. I should have gone and visited her lately. She would have liked that. She loved hearing stories about my cats, and she enjoyed the postcards I sent her from my travels over the years. And I just loved being around her. She was truly like no other and the world is a little less special without her.
I'm glad my aunt is no longer suffering, but I'm really going to miss her.
Aunt Dot and my brother Bryan dancing at the wedding she loved so much...
Click here for the obituary
