Great Aunt Emily

This week, an amazing lady died.

Officially, she was Great Aunt Emily.  That is, she was my father's mother's sister.  But even though she was not a mother to my dad biologically, she was a mother to him in every other way.  And even though she was not a grandmother to my brother, my cousins, and me biologically, she was a grandmother to us in every other way.

Emily had experienced the hardship of losing her husband at a relatively young age.  Both his decline and death occurred right around the time I was born.  She cared for her husband in their home until his death in 1976. She never remarried, and she never had any children.





Not long after that, her sister Helen, my grandmother, was affected by a serious stroke.  Emily moved in with Grandma and Grandpa and took on all of Grandma's care-giving and all of the housework.  As a kid, it never occurred to me what a selfless act of love this was.  To a kid, it was just the way things were.  Every visit to Grandma's and Grandpa's included Emily.  She was the one who prepared every meal for us, and cleaned up after us.  She smuggled us candy, sneaked random $5 bills into our hands, and loved us fiercely.




When my father became ill last year, Emily's reaction was predictable.  She insisted on moving in with Dad so that she could care for him. It was a humorous scene...95-year-old Emily, trying to care for my dad, who was losing his battle with cancer.  Neither could really do too much as their bodies betrayed them.  But the love was still communicated clearly.

Emily's priority was caring for others.  She never complained about the work she did, or asked for any help from others.  She mowed her own yard and shoveled her own sidewalk, up into her 90s.  She never mopped the kitchen floor.  She insisted that a mop just pushed the dirt around.  Instead, she would use a rag and wipe down the entire floor daily.

One regret she had was never learning to drive.  That was one way in which she was dependent on others, and she hated feeling like a burden.  When she was living at my grandmother's house, Emily did all of the grocery shopping herself, walking the half-mile to and from the grocery store, pushing the grocery cart home, and parking it in the backyard until her next trip to the store.




She really was Great Aunt Emily.  I can't possibly think of a better title for her. I don't know of another person who could ever live up to the very high standard of love of family and selflessness that Emily has demonstrated.

I certainly can't.