I lost my favorite Aunt earlier today and it has me reeling a bit, though I knew it was coming. I’m posting this stream-of-consciousness as a way for me to celebrate her and to start processing her death. Oof.
Aunt S was funny, beautiful, smart, successful, had class for days, was an amazing hostess, a kind person, the love of my Uncle R’s life, and an incredible all-around human being.
Aunt S loved to fly fish. She became a bit of a raft/drift boat princess in her later years after an ankle injury (from a dog sledding accident in Glacier) made wading long distances tough, but she had a passion for trout fishing and was equally at home with bamboo and brookies, browns on the Big Hole, or fishing small water for big fish in Chile. She was deadly out of a boat with dries, favoring bamboo or a Winston and showcasing excellent presentation with a ridiculous amount of mojo.
She loved to travel, she enjoyed a cocktail, great food, and great conversation, and she loved supporting charitable causes.
She was the last alive (aside from me) to really know my spirit name - given to me by my uncles one summer we spent on the river in MT.
A few months ago Aunt S rang me up and let me know she had ALS. It seemed particularly cruel, given that she had to watch her husband (my favorite Uncle, a legend) die of pancreatic cancer some years ago.
As expected, she handled it with same class and stoicism. She orchestrated her last months and weeks with the same smooth touch she applied to everything else the universe threw at her during her life.
I headed out to see her (in MT, where she lived), then headed out again last month for what we knew would be a final visit. On that visit I brought my daughter as well - they really loved each other and I’m glad we were able to engineer that visit when my Aunt could still talk.
When we visited she generously gifted us with some family items chock-full of sentimental value. Among other things (an amazing collection of first edition Steinbecks, some of our family art, etc, etc.) she also gifted me a bunch of her fly fishing gear including a few of her favorite rods; a sweet custom boo made by a friend of ours and her trusty 6 wt Winston. Priceless.
This morning I was thinking of her and texted her the first stanza of a Robert Service poem (kind of an inside family thing, as we all used to read Robert Service poems around the fishing camp growing up). When she hadn’t responded after a few hours, I felt something had happened and sure enough I was contacted early this afternoon and informed that she had passed away.
I will miss my Aunt S. We will not see her like again.
Aunt S was funny, beautiful, smart, successful, had class for days, was an amazing hostess, a kind person, the love of my Uncle R’s life, and an incredible all-around human being.
Aunt S loved to fly fish. She became a bit of a raft/drift boat princess in her later years after an ankle injury (from a dog sledding accident in Glacier) made wading long distances tough, but she had a passion for trout fishing and was equally at home with bamboo and brookies, browns on the Big Hole, or fishing small water for big fish in Chile. She was deadly out of a boat with dries, favoring bamboo or a Winston and showcasing excellent presentation with a ridiculous amount of mojo.
She loved to travel, she enjoyed a cocktail, great food, and great conversation, and she loved supporting charitable causes.
She was the last alive (aside from me) to really know my spirit name - given to me by my uncles one summer we spent on the river in MT.
A few months ago Aunt S rang me up and let me know she had ALS. It seemed particularly cruel, given that she had to watch her husband (my favorite Uncle, a legend) die of pancreatic cancer some years ago.
As expected, she handled it with same class and stoicism. She orchestrated her last months and weeks with the same smooth touch she applied to everything else the universe threw at her during her life.
I headed out to see her (in MT, where she lived), then headed out again last month for what we knew would be a final visit. On that visit I brought my daughter as well - they really loved each other and I’m glad we were able to engineer that visit when my Aunt could still talk.
When we visited she generously gifted us with some family items chock-full of sentimental value. Among other things (an amazing collection of first edition Steinbecks, some of our family art, etc, etc.) she also gifted me a bunch of her fly fishing gear including a few of her favorite rods; a sweet custom boo made by a friend of ours and her trusty 6 wt Winston. Priceless.
This morning I was thinking of her and texted her the first stanza of a Robert Service poem (kind of an inside family thing, as we all used to read Robert Service poems around the fishing camp growing up). When she hadn’t responded after a few hours, I felt something had happened and sure enough I was contacted early this afternoon and informed that she had passed away.
I will miss my Aunt S. We will not see her like again.
