Aunt Millie, the teensiest Aunt.

We lost Aunt Millie earlier this month.  I stopped by to see Uncle Gerald.  We hugged for a long time.  After that, we talked about aunt Millie.  He loved her since high school. That’s the kind of love everyone wants.


When I was a little girl, I had all kinds of people around me.  I never had time to get lonely.  I never even had a chance to be alone.  Even in the bathroom, someone else was always there; taking a bath, brushing their teeth, or just sitting on the side of the tub, gabbing away.  There was always something to talk about.  That’s one thing everybody at my house did the best:  talk.  That’s why Grandpa called us The Magpies, because we were always talking.

Debbie was my best-friend-cousin.  She lived Uncle Gerald and Aunt Millie and her brother Jimmy, and Sandy in a tinsy, tiny house with a great big yard.  That yard was the most fun; just wide open space; enough to play baseball with a outfield big enough to have no automatic home run area.  No worrying about knocking a neighbor’s window out either.

Uncle Gerald and all the Aunts.  Grandma’s the one in the apron.

Uncle Gerald was the youngest of all the brothers and the tallest.  Dad said Uncle Gerald never lost his baby teeth, that’s how everybody knew he was the baby, ’cause no one could tell just by looking at him.  Uncle Gerald had straight hair that always slid into his eyes in corn silk shocks, so he was all the time brushing it out of his true-blue eyes.  Those eyes were just like Dad’s, still laughing when the rest of his face was relaxing.

Aunt Millie was the smallest of all my Aunts; she was itsy-bitsy and she Continue reading