The first comment that comes to my mind is ‘At least it wasn’t cancer.’ So far I’ve had four conversations about this, and in every other one I’ve found myself crying, so you should be alright for this time.
My Aunt, MaryLou, died from internal bleeding Monday. They took her off life support since there was no brainwave activity since they found her. Medically speaking, she was dead on Sunday, but that’s just too creepy to think about.
We weren’t related by blood, MaryLou and I. She worked for my grandmother Taffy, back in the days that Taf owned a dancewear mail-order business called, well, Taffy’s. As I think about it, I can remember exactly where MaryLou sat, her smile, her hair, and her desk. I can’t remember what her actual job was, since to me she will always be my aunt.
I had a lot of aunts at Taffy’s. My parents were in college when I was born, and I was Taffy’s first grandchild so I was special. I always had full run of Taffy’s Warehouse, and I can’t remember a day when those men and women weren’t my family.
My family’s getting much smaller now. I’m looking back at the last three years, and I think at least half of my conversations with Taffy bring up the subject of death. A friend, a pet, a family member. As much as it terrifies me, this encroaching death, I am more frightened for Taffy. She’s 84 this year, and since last January she’s lost a dog, two cats and probably more friends than she’ll admit to me. Just last month, when Ipstenit and I were in Cleveland, I’d told Taffy I was going to send her a box of Twinkies to give to MaryLou for her birthday.
Twinkies.
Instead of lamenting about death, my fears and that maudlin garbage, I’m going to tell you a story about MaryLou and I. It’s a long story that’s short in the telling. It begins over twenty years ago, when I was much younger and so was she.
The first memory that stands out for me is that of the shoes. I don’t know the brand, but they were white and had a crazy plastic slot on the outside that you could use to change the accent color of the shoes. I was particularly fond of the Kelly green. This was in the 80s, when it was cool to mismatch your Converse hi-tops. I remember sitting by MaryLou’s desk, changing the colors around and asking her which ones she liked.
There were hot dots, too. The neon, stick on circles. Actually, I recall MaryLou used them to mark up the Taffy catalogues, so we’d know what outfits sold well. I used to love playing with the hot dots and ‘helping’ her mark the catalogues. I probably drove her insane, or at least to work late.
I was never a girly girl, but for some reason MaryLou tried to teach me how to twirl a baton. The lesson never stuck, and I remember cursing in front of her, after I dropped the stupid baton for the hundredth time.
But MaryLou had a way to make everything better. She had a special gift that always lifted my spirits and made me happy. I’m not ashamed to say I abused that gift.
What was the magical talent? I’ll tell you.
Twinkies.
For the entire time she worked at Taffy’s, MaryLou kept a box of Twinkies in the lower, left hand filing drawer of her desk. Any time I came by, I was welcome to a Twinkie, sometimes a HoHo, and things were just better. It didn’t work with the Twinkies I bought, mind you. They had to be MaryLou’s.
And do you want to know a secret?
I have a box of pudding snacks in my bottom filing drawer, behind the papers, just because of MaryLou.
MaryLou, I loved you like an Aunt. Rest in peace.