Katy.

My mother’s sister was 12 or 13 when I was born, and instantly, I became her screaming, squirming, real-life baby doll. She always had gum and candy in her purse. She would sneak me chocolate in the back pew on Sunday mornings. She pierced my ears the week before I started Kindergarten. She taught me to wear make up and high heels. She helped me learn to drive. She kept my secrets.

She wore her hair short and spunky because she was short and spunky. My mom liked to say that she was impulsive, but really, she just wanted to have more fun than everyone else. She laughed a lot, and her laughter was infectious.

In the last hour of Friday, April 14th, my Aunt Katy departed this earth. She leaves behind an adoring husband, Joe, and two daughters, Mary and Kaitlyn. And a big, gaping hole where her laughter ought to be.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Katy.

  1. a hole no one could ever fill. a hole that Mary will try to fill for Kaitlynn. A hole no one could possibly fill for Mary.What a heartache. Mary knew only her mom for so long. She must be clueless as how to deal with this. Her heart must ache.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s