For Auntie Caryl

My auntie Caryl died last week.   She was not really my aunt but a cousin by marriage.  Her mom's second marriage was to my dad's older brother.  She decided she was too old to be my cousin and so I always called her auntie Caryl.  She was really everyone's auntie, everyone's mother and everyone's friend.  She was a beautiful person inside and out.

Auntie Caryl was a presence in my life for as long as I can remember.   She was my Sunday school teacher and responsible for helping me see the beauty of a church community even though I won't pretend to be anywhere near as devout as she was.   She also was the organist at our beautiful Methodist church in my little home town of Rockland, Michigan as long as I can remember.    She played "Amazing Grace" for my dad's funeral and then later my mom's.   She was a piano teacher for many of the kids in Rockland and the surrounding area.  I wanted to take lessons and my parents couldn't afford it or to buy a piano but I know if I  had wanted to do it badly enough she probably would have taught me for free.  In retrospect, it  would have been frustrating for both of us.  I mean I took band in 7th grade for one day and then quit.  I wasn't destined to be a musician.

Caryl and her husband Carl were good friends to my parents and stood by my mom and my dad especially after my dad's accident that left him unable to work. She always brought him a cake or cupcakes on his birthday every year until he died.  On my sister's birthday she made no bake chocolate oatmeal cookies, and brought casseroles down to her after her surgery.   She never seemed to judge anyone and was very accepting.  I don't recall her ever talking badly about anyone.  She always loved and supported my brother and defended him to others who criticized his choices.   She never failed to say "I love you" to me every time I talked to her in person, email or on the phone.  

When I was younger I had  severe asthma and often needed to go to the ER in a nearby town for a shot of epinephrine so I could breath.   If my mom was working, Caryl  took me to the hospital - me leaning over the front seat  of  her car on the 14 mile trip,  barely able to breath.   I think she was trying to keep me calm but she talked continually all those 14 long miles. She always did have a good gift of gab.  Her chatter kept me calm and at the same time made me feel bad cause I couldn't answer and I really wanted to ask her to please stop talking. I  did really loved her ability to talk to anyone about anything.

Auntie Caryl's house was always welcoming when we were kids.  She had five daughters who she loved fiercely and were my friends.   My little daughter always called all of them the Kimmies because she could only remember the name of the oldest daughter, Kim.  

Caryl often served breakfast the morning after the senior prom after we stayed out all night.    I had many sleepovers at her house.  Friends of the Kimmies were always welcome anytime.  The coffee pot was always on back in those days when people could stop by unannounced.  

When I was in town, I always stopped to have coffee with Caryl and her sister Sylvia in the bright cheery turquoise kitchen  with the antique dishes displayed on the top of the cupboards.  Those dishes came from laundry detergent (or maybe oatmeal) and are collectables now.   If I was lucky,  I got some fresh Cardamom bread to go with my coffee.  I loved hearing her stories about my parents and she and her husband and what they used to do.   She was always so beautiful, stylish, and so positive even after  a bout with breast cancer that left her with lymphedema and a left arm that hung limp at her side.   She still played the organ and when I went to church it was always so reassuring to see her there - a sign that all was still okay with the world or at least in the little world of Rockland.  

The last few years had been especially hard for her and her family.    She remained positive after her house burned down in the middle of the night.  She and her sister were able to get out although Caryl was left with lung damage from smoke inhalation and later developed esophageal cancer.  Through chemo and radiation she was determined to get better and get back to Rockland.  Her five girls cared for her and loved her and made sure her life was good as it could be.  They were all lucky to be able to spend that hard time together supporting their mom and each other.    I had hoped and prayed, as the entire town and probably the universe did, that she would get home to that beautiful new house that was being built for her on the site of her old one.  But it was not to be.  

I went to church in Rockland when I visited and of course she wasn't there and the organ sat unused.  It was the fourth of July and about 6 days before she died.  Someone in the small congregation suggested that we sing  "Battle Hymn of the Republic", a song she always played on the fourth.  We sent prayers from that church on her behalf.  

She accidentally called me a day or two later.    We had a nice chat and I am grateful for that since it was the last time I got to talk to her  She was facing in a few days, a serious surgery that would rebuild her esophagus and she was optimistic about it.  In the end it must have been too much for her and her body gave up but not without a fight.  Her daughters were there to send her off and I think Carl, her husband, probably came to get her and escort her to wherever it is we go.  What a reunion it must have been for her to see so many friends that went before her.

That evening after my sister called to tell me Caryl had died, we had the most beautiful sunset.  I am sure that was her way of saying "All is well with my soul"  

I love you  Auntie Caryl and thank you for all you added to my life.  Rockland will never be the same without you but we will go on because that is what we do.  Say hi to my mom and dad and all the good people that have paved the way for those of us left here.  As we always sing at the end of the church services "God be with you till we meet again"