I'm not a very sentimental person. I regularly donate former favorite sweaters to charity, I wasn't upset when my father turned my old bedroom into a kids' room for his step-grandchildren, and I once threw away a whole batch of love letters because I didn't have space in my very small desk for them.
I am also not close with most of my family. My parents and I have always had an odd relationship; they have treated me as an independent adult-ish person my entire life, so we treat one another neutrally. They aren't very involved in my life (I haven't talked to my father since September; my mother
does have a grating habit of calling me weekly). My extended family, for the most part, is 1400+ miles away in New York, which makes having a close relationship with them difficult. I get along amicably with my two adult cousins and their parents. The same can be said for my other aunts, uncles, and baby cousins. My grandparents all died when I was young (except for my father's mother, whom I haven't spoken with in years).
Despite this detachment from family, when I learned that my great-aunt had passed away this afternoon I was suddenly very sad. She and I shared a birthday, and she never failed to send me a card and a check for $5. I continued to receive gift this long after my older cousins' annual Lincoln had stopped. She always wrote lengthy notes in my birthday cards updating me on her son and his wife, goings on at her assisted living home, and always encouraging "come when you can". I always wrote her polite thank-you notes back with details on school or work or horses and saying "I'll try to visit soon!" I sometimes tried to coordinate visits to her with my mother; my great-aunt was a vivacious, chatty woman who loved to tell stories about serving as a nurse in the war (which ones, I was never sure) or show off her gallery (she was an avid painter) or give a driving tour of Montgomery, Alabama, where she lived (always terrifying; she sat on a stack of phone books due to her extremely short stature). Aunt Ruthie was a bit overwhelming one-on-one- I needed my mother around for support during visits. I hadn't managed a visit to Aunt Ruthie in several years, and I feel disappointed. I know she would have enjoyed some company.
I wholeheartedly hope my dear Aunt Ruthie is resting peacefully. At 101 years old, she lived a long and interesting life. Perhaps our shared birthday means that I'll see that grand age too and the experiences that come along with it.
"Do not fear death so much, but rather the inadequate life." -Bertolt Brecht
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