Pepino Suave happened by Aunt Nina’s house yesterday. After school I did the southern loop; dropped of the couch guts at the Williams warehouse, stopped by the union meeting, then drove over to our piece of North Carolina in Michigan. Sure as shootn’, she met me at the door, the table prepared with cookies, Christmas candies, and coffee that’d make a cow dance (I’m trying too hard. Aunt Nina never said such thing, but she might say something like it. Surely better). We talked awhile. Its been a tough week for Aunt Nina. She lost a good friend this week. Ruth, a friend that goes back a generation, was buried Monday. Aunt Nina spent the whole day with Ruth’s family, so yesterday she was plenty tired. You could tell. She was missing just a little of her usual spunk. Still, she kept up the pace.
During our converstation she was interupted three times by phone calls. All from local charities for which she volunteers. The one caller left Aunt Nina with instructions to the house of a lady she is to pick up tomorrow and drive to a doctors appointment. Aunt Nina regularly drives for an organization called Fish. She and other volunteers provide rides for the homebound. At 84 years, many of the people she drives are younger that her.
I love when she talks about years ago, as she has an incredible memory. No detail escapes her. I think she still can recall the tableclothes she and her sister put out for Aunt Bonnie’s wedding some thousands of years ago. She remembers so much about my Mom’s family that it feels like a homecoming listening to her. My siblings can understand when she talks about Granny’s house being such a welcome home when Aunt Nina and her clan would come in to Detroit from Armada.
I left her as the afternoon paper arrived. My guess is she spent the rest of the evening reading the paper, emails, and preparing for the busy few days left in the week. The lady is busier than the dickens…
Un humilde sobrino,