Soft Laughter in Heaven

Aunt Rose Marie died last night. She'd been really sick: she was diagnosed with ALS a year or so ago and had already lost the ability to walk. When she faced a bout of pneumonia, it was too hard for her to recover. In fact, back in late May I thought I was sending a last card to her (she'd sent a gift for Genevieve right before the pneumonia).

She was in hospice for quite a while and rallied somewhat. Originally they wanted her to get a stomach tube put in, but she refused, and managed to start eating again. Typical Aunt Rose Marie: The hospice nurse asked her about whether it was encouraging to be eating food again at the hospital. Aunt Rose Marie eyed the liquidy mush they'd served her. "Well, all in all, I'd rather have a Kit Kat bar,"she quipped, quoting an old commercial. Whereupon the literalistic nurse mushed up a Kit Kat bar for her, and Rose Marie ate it with great amusement and relish!

When I saw her just a few weeks ago, she wished she could hold Genevieve. So I set the baby propped up right at her side on the bed, and my aunt marveled at Genevieve's soft skin, chunky thighs, and drooly smiles. Rose Marie was really thin, but very much herself - talking and softly laughing like ever. She'd always seen the funny side of situations. Even as her late husband (my dad's brother - Uncle Chuck) was dealing with terminal cancer, they'd talked to me about wanting to reply to an oversentimental "I'm sorry" with mock surprise and a glint of vengeance: "Did you do this, then? I've been looking for you!!" After Uncle Chuck (who overall seemed a pretty stern guy) died, Aunt Rose Marie re-met and married Dick, a rather eccentric bachelor who'd carried a torch for her throughout his life. He is a real character, always very verbal about being unabashedly head-over-heels ga-ga for "my blondie." He came with his own set of challenges, but the quiet laughter got more constant and uproarious once he came along.

Aunt Rose Marie dealt with a lot during her life, but always retained her sweet demeanor and generous spirit. She had real gifts of hospitality and service to others - making meals for others, helping with anything and everything at church, ensuring my widowed mom had company by inviting her over at least once every single week throughout the years, and so on.

She was a great cook, too. She would make really simple fare that was delicious - her "yogurt pie" (graham cracker crust, Cool Whip, yogurt - done!) was always the first thing I went for at Thanksgiving dinner as a kid. During my early marriage I stole her recipe for biscuits, but still can't make them quite the way she did.

I just can't imagine family gatherings without hearing her voice and laughter. But now I'll have to wait for the ultimate family gathering in Heaven to hear them again. Love you, Aunt Rose Marie.