February 01, 2005

We Weren't That Close

We weren't that close.
She was my Father's only sister,
set in her ways
(like all aunts, I suppose),
a little bit anti-social,
with a touch of hypochondria,
but when the call came,
I wasn't prepared.

We weren't that close.
She did all the annoying things aunts do.
She was right even when she was wrong,
she knew a little about everything,
and a lot about nothing,
and I think, once or twice,
she even pinched my cheeks,
and I think I remember
making a funny face,
but really, I didn't mind.

We weren't that close.
At Christmas and birthdays,
when everyone else gave toys and games,
she gave books ---
educational books ---
books that weren't exciting to unwrap,
but I read those books,
over and over and over again.
A few of them I read still.

We weren't that close,
I said to myself,
upon hearing that she died.
But even as I said this,
a tear fell from my face
and I knew it wasn't true.

2 comments:

Theresa Coleman said...

beautiful.
And you miss them when they are gone.
Blessings on you today.

Jim said...

Can't remember where I came across your site, but want to leave a note saying I'm enjoying your posts. This one, in particular, reminds me of my favorite aunt, the one my kids used to call "Granny Goose". What I have found in growing older, though, is that it matters not whether they were your "favorite" or not. Each were special in their own way and I miss them all...........