Aunt Beth

It's really hard to write this post.  I can't even believe that I'm in a position where I feel the need to write it.  My Aunt Beth passed away on July 2nd.  The words "aunt" and "niece" don't do our relationship justice.  Perhaps these words could only begin to define her role in my life:

Best Friend
Confidant
Second Mom
Cheerleader
Inspiration

From the day I was born (or so I'm told...by her), Aunt Beth has adored me.  As I grew and became concious, I came to adore her back.  We had a bond that cannot be defined by words.  She truly believed I was the best thing to grace her life.  The funny thing about that is she thought that of all her nieces and nephews.  We all felt like we were the most special thing in her life.  She always had time for us.  She went out of her way.to be with us, to cook us our favorite foods, to take us places we wanted to go, to make sure we felt special.  Even though I realize I am far from perfect, I felt perfect in her eyes.

Growing up, she would sometimes come take care of us while my parents went on vacation.  When she would come to visit my grandma (who lived a few miles away), it would be one big spoil fest until she left.  We would have sleep overs, dance to the "coolest" music, play games and cook food. 

When I was a teenager, Abbie and I went back to Syracuse to visit Aunt Beth.  We went all over the Palmyra area and then she drove us to Kirtland, Ohio.  I lived with her the summer after my sophomore year of college.  She was able to get me three jobs that summer: preschool teacher, temp at MONY Securities and cashier at the church bookstore in Palmyra.  We had a blast that summer, taking road trips to Canada, Pennsylvania and again to the church history sites.  We even volunteered at the historic sites during the Pageant together.  I met some dear friends that summer, as Aunt Beth knew the coolest people.  We had so much fun hosting dinner parties, watching movies, reading books in the quiet courtyard of her apartment complex.  It was an unforgettable summer of bonding.

Imagine our excitment that next February when I got my mission call to the New York Rochester mission with a special assignment to the Hill Cumorah Historic Sites.  Not only would I get to be in a place I had come to love the year before, but I got to be an hour away from Aunt Beth, and would certainly get to see her every once in a while. And, I was right.  Because the temple was in Palmyra, during the time I served there, I would often find grocery bags full of food in the office of whatever site I was serving at.   It was such a fun time.  All the site missionaries knew "Aunt Beth."  It was always so fun to see her pop up on a walk through the sacred grove, or going through the sites with a friend.  She was the one who picked me up from the mission home at the end of my time there.  It seemed so fitting that she was there to see me finish.

Throughout the rest of her time in Syracuse, I saw her scarcely.  I went back a few times after my mission with friends to see the sites.  I also spent the Christmas of 2007 with her and when she was deathly ill in the hospital in 2008, I spent a week with her.  Each time (except for the latter) was full of great laughs, deep discussions, delicious food and amazing back scratches.  :)  (She was so gracious in giving those.)   In 2011, she moved to St. George.  This coincided with my move to Glendale.  It wasn't until after she died that I realized how wonderfully fortuitous this had all been.  I really didn't want to move to L.A.  It's been a really hard year here.  That said, I realized that had it not been for our locating here, I would not have been able to visit Aunt Beth four times in the last 11 months.  That alone made the move here worth it.

When Matteo was 3 weeks old, we spent a week with her in St. George while our apartment was being packed up and moved.  She was an angel that week.  I was suffering mightily from post-partum, unable to walk due to some ligament issues and was having a hard time taking care of Matteo.  She was exactly what I needed.  She told me constantly what a good mom I was.  She complimented me so much that it gave the confidence I needed to stay above water.  She was patient with my crying fits and was kind and sweet with her advice. 

We vistited again for Thanksgiving, and then once in March and in May.  Each time was filled with peaceful evenings on the back balcony, discussing good books and family stories.  We tried new recipes and had good laughs about old inside jokes.  Every time we left it was hard, but it felt nice knowing she was so close. 

When we weren't together, we shared lengthy emails.  She shared news about our common friends/relatives that I didn't keep in close contact with.  We would always comment on good books, movies and funny/interesting experiences.  Because of her surgeries, she told me once that she didn't enjoy talking on the phone much, so I tried not to call her too often, but now I regret it.  Oh well.

She was an incredible example to me, and everyone else who knew her, of positive attitude and inner strength.  She dealt with countless health issues (including 2 bouts with cancer) since the early 1990s, yet I never heard her complain.  I know she struggled some, but very few (if any) people heard her say so.  She always pressed on, cooking meals for people, taking others to doctor appointments and serving as the stake relief society president.  She was always so chipper and funny, sometimes I forgot how much she truly suffered.

Now that she is gone, I realize that I've lost a best friend.  This is the first death I've had to deal with that I have mourned and shed tears every day.  Although our move and Matteo have kept me very busy, in the quiet times, I feel an overwhelming sadness.  My world isn't the same without her.  It seems odd that life just goes on.  Aunt Beth's dearest friend told me that life seems so rude to just go on.  She really nailed it.  It seems rude that life just keeps on happening and that I still need to get up and shower and eat and care for Teo, etc. 

Even before Aunt Beth died, I often thought about how lucky I was that she was MY aunt.  Of all the people that could have been her niece, I was one of the few lucky ones.  I also often thought about how so much of my confidence has come from her.  She always made me feel special and important.  No one loved me like she did, and I doubt anyone ever will again.  I will be grateful every day of my life that we shared so much time together, and that my life was influenced by her love.


When I lived her with in the summer of 1999, we traveled all over New England together.  Even though she couldn't eat because of the damage radiation had done to her esophogus, she was always game the socialization that went along with eating out.

 
She adored Matteo.  She called him "My Boy."  She always wanted me to send her updated photos that she could pass along (and brag) to all her friends.