THE STORY OF ME BEGINS WITH A DEATH

My Aunt Marj recently died with cancer. It was a bit of a shock that she was so old. I remember going fishing with her when I was a small boy. I did not go to see her much when I got slightly older, because she could not go fishing with me anymore.

Decades ago my grandparents were told that my aunt had an IQ of 70. The state laid out all the options for my aunt including, sending her away, and locking her up in the attic. My grandparents chose to keep her on as an adult, who would never quite grow up. So generations of little kids got use to going to my grandparents cottage, and fishing with aunt Marj.

Her death is like a great stone being placed over my youth. I have many more relatives lying beneath the soil than walk above it now. I will always dream of the days when my aunts and uncles and parents were all alive. I will dream of the days of having fun at the lakes. I will dream of the days of the good and the plenty.

01222011