Remembering

It's been awhile since I've written. My Aunt Alice died one week ago today. She married my Uncle Ed, who was my godfather and my mother's only sibling, right after World War II. They lived with my grandparents and great aunt Kiki for awhile while my uncle went to college on the G.I. bill. My family lived downstairs, in the "flat" on the first floor of Kiki's three story apartment house.

I have so many happy memories of those times so long ago. Aunt Alice and Uncle Ed playing pinochle with Nanny and Pop-Pop, with my other Grandma and Grandpa, with my Uncle Val. Accusing Uncle Val of reading the cards in Nanny's glasses. Thanksgivings at the huge table my Dad built in the finished basement. Even after Aunt Alice and Uncle Ed moved to Pennsylvania, they would return each Thanksgiving. I see them around that table: my Dad carving the turkey, my Mom, Nanny and Pop-Pop, Kiki with her home baked pies, Aunt Alice and Uncle Ed, my sister, brothers, cousins and me. Now I am the oldest of that close "first family" of my childhood. And that is a hard place to be.

To learn more about Aunt Alice see my daughter's blog (sidebar).