Recently my Aunt (and godmother) passed away. She wasn’t just any ole Aunt, she was a special, generous, traveled, hospitable, and loving Aunt. There are so many things about her that I absolutely loved and only a few things that made it hard to live with her, haha. And I did live with her for two years (Feb 2016 – Feb 2018). I moved in with my Aunt because of grief, she had just lost her husband and a month later she lost her mother (my grandmother). It was a tough time and if I knew anything about grief, it was that the person grieving would feel supported in the moment but what about a month or five months from then. I wanted my presence to be a support to my Aunt after all the initial support faded, so as a single late 20’s/early 30’s bachelorette, I decided to pack up my studio apartment and move into one bedroom at my Aunt’s house. It was a special time that I knew I’d look back on without an ounce of regret. I’ll say it again, she wasn’t just anyone, she was special and fiercely loved by me, and so many.
Her passing comes with mixed emotions. I am both so grateful that she doesn’t have to deal with her inability to communicate and also sad that she isn’t here for me to visit anymore. The lack of communication was tough, especially to someone like my Aunt. It was probably the cruelest thing brain cancer could have done to her besides shorten her years… was to take her ability to carry on a meaningful conversation. Before cancer, my Aunt would tell you in detail what she had for dinner three weeks ago, I joke but it was true 🙂 She loved those silly Sudoku puzzles and would always do the crossword puzzles in the newspaper. Shortly before she was diagnosed with Glioblastoma, she had gone on several trips with tour groups. She was on a trip to Colorado when her illness took a hold of her.
The last time I hung out with my Aunt (before she took that trip) was Labor Day weekend 2021. My husband and I decided to walk down to the beach from my parents house. It’s about half a mile or a little more. She quickly popped up and said she could use the walk and asked to come with us. “Sure!” we said. I remember my husband giving her a hard time about something she had said when I just started dating him years prior. She had said, “oh I’d never date a guy with a beard”. I laughed so hard and loved that Alex was still teasing her about it. She had so many things she was particular about and didn’t mind saying them. Instead of disagreeing I’d just say her name and shake my head and we would both laugh. We laughed about everything.
Oh grief.
So many moments and memories cruise through my mind when I think about her. I think about visiting her and my Uncle in Bothell as a child. Calling her a “good cooker” because I loved a meal she made. She would still quote the ‘good cooker’ phrase even into my adult years as a favorite memory. She would call me “Shari-kins & Shar-bear” and tell me how cute I was when I was little and how my Uncle wanted to freeze me at age 3. I remember shopping with her in Seattle and getting ridiculously spoiled with new clothes for school. She took her role as “godmother” very seriously and I loved that she was “more than an Aunt” to me. She was a Corporate Event Planner by profession and would tell all her friends (with pride) that I followed in her footsteps. When I lived with her she would tell me to invite friends over so she could make us dinner, she was next-level hospitable and had a placemat to match every occasion. Pure class with a huge wardrobe and enough jewelry to fill a boutique all on her own, she kept her favorite outfits even if she would never wear them again. Her home is filled with art and collectibles that have a story attached to each one. What I wouldn’t give to hear her tell me about them again. I still have the last voicemail I received from her on my birthday a year before her diagnosis. I listen to it sometimes. It will be a sad day when it gets deleted.
The last 16 months of her fighting brain cancer have been bittersweet. I found out I was pregnant a few days after she was diagnosed. My heart sank knowing that my baby may never meet her. But she was there to watch my belly grow, attend my baby shower, and hold my tiny two week old baby at her 80th birthday party. My baby girl is her namesake, Koralyn. Even though I know those 16 months were hard for her, I’m so glad she fought. She fought to extend her life and end it on her terms. She passed away at home knowing she was so deeply loved by all of us. That is one wonderful way to go. Peacefully and loved.
Aunt Kory, you are missed.
The Salty Exchange 