Sunday night our family received some bad news. One of my Aunts passed away at the age of 85+. This woman was an original and a real piece of work. She raised three boys (one passed away back in the 70’s due to cancer), was a nurse in the USAF, and just one of the strongest ladies I have ever met. Back in the early ’60 she was stationed at a base that I wound up at during the late ‘80s. Based on some of the things she told me about the place, it hadn’t change much in the 25 years between her assignment there and my time. She lived on her own and wanted it that way. According to my mom, she and my aunt had a discussion a few months ago about her age and living alone. My Aunt basically said she wanted to be taken from her home feet first. Not too long ago, she had moved to one of those assisted living facilities for independent older adults. She didn’t stay there too long because, in her words, there were too many old people there. It had been a couple of years since I last saw her, and I sure wish I could have seen her again. I consider it an absolute honor to have known her and to call her my Aunt.
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