Bless her little pea-pickin' heart!

Yesterday my Great Aunt Renie (aged 89, although she guarded that fact fiercely, so you never heard it from me...not that I caught a glimpse of her ID one time and did the math or anything...) was laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery with Great Uncle Ralph, her husband who passed away in 1988. Although Memorial Services naturally elicit solemn and mournful emotions, anyone who ever knew my aunt would agree it was also a perfect occasion to celebrate her life and reminisce about her humor, her caring nature, and most of all, her live-out-loud spirit. My earliest memories of Aunt Renie and Uncle Ralph involve them doing their utmost to spoil me rotten. You see, since they never had any children of their own, they really fit the billing of Bonus Grandparents for me and my siblings. They seemed to thrive on indulging us kids--I just can't tell you the number of McDonald's milkshakes I sweet-talked out of them while growing up, but it's so many that I'm probably still working off those calories! My aunt cooked Thanksgiving dinner every year at their apartment in Takoma Park, preparing enough food for approximately a small country, and always fretting that it wouldn't be sufficient to feed all of us. (It was...for days and days afterwards!) Christmas morning, we opened presents at our house, then piled into the car ("over the river and through the woods"...to New Hampshire Avenue we go) for a second present-fest at Aunt Renie and Uncle Ralph's. Whatever cool new toy Mom didn't approve of and refused to allow, you could count on Aunt Renie and Uncle Ralph to ignore the rules and buy anyway!

When they retired to Florida, we didn't see them as much of course, but we did take family car trips down to Vero Beach to visit. (Besides, they lived 2 hours from Disney World!) When Uncle Ralph died, unexpectedly and far too early at the age of 70, Aunt Renie remained in Florida on her own. By that time I was almost finished with college, and after graduate school I got a job with a public school system here in Maryland. Why do I bother to mention this? Because even as an adult, I got a Spring Break! My college buddy Dot and I started driving down to stay with Great Aunt Renie for that March hiatus every year, and it was then that I truly came to understand and appreciate just how hilarious Renie was. She kept us in stitches joking about setting Dot up on blind dates with the Maintenance Man who was coming to fix the hot water heater, or teasing us about our futile attempts to find something "hip and happening" to do in retiree-haven Vero Beach...or sternly admonishing us about a bar we (finally) discovered, "You can not go there, people get knifed in the parking lot!" (For the record, it was a completely safe watering hole, our favorite part being the sign when you entered that said, "No shirt, no shoes...free beer!" She LOVED that when we told her the next morning.) Since Renie had never learned to drive, while we were in town we chauffered her to the grocery store and her hair appointment and the movies and Dodgers Spring Training games and our favorite local restaurant called Mr. Manatees. Lots of laughter, countless good times.

Over the years, though, Renie's health began to decline, as complications from her diabetes set in and then steadily worsened. She developed circulatory problems and issues with her vision, and we all began to wonder if she should be living by herself, 2,000 miles away. The discussion became moot, however, with the arrival of the historic 2005 Hurricane Season. While her entire area in Florida was evacuated to safety, Renie's house surrendered its roof to an early storm (Dennis), then suffered irreplaceable damage when Rita hit, a few months later. She had no choice at that point but to move back north, into an Assisted Living facility that could meet her medical and physical needs. The last several years of her life unfortunately were marked by decreasing mobility and increasing health worries. Through it all, though, she retained her wit and her gregarious personality. She enjoyed watching (and griping about when necessary) the Orioles and Ravens; she never tired of a good joke (or a terrible one, as a matter of fact); she lived to trade stories (and demonstrated an innate gift for exaggeration) and to share chuckles. This is how I will remember her, and why I will miss her. But now her pain and suffering are over, and I firmly believe she's with the angels at this moment, watching over us (she always was a little nosy), catching up on 23 years of wearing Uncle Ralph's ear out (yep, she could have been a professional talker in her day), and drinking sweet tea while pursuing her all-time favorite hobby: BINGO. So if you're listening, Aunt Renie, we love you, God bless you, and rest in peace.