If someone asked me to describe myself today, I might say I am responsible, maybe outspoken or blunt, a little fun-loving. But is that how I want to be remembered? When I draw my last breath, what are the words I want my children to use when describing me? How do I want my friends to feel when they think of me? How do I want to be remembered by those who knew or loved me? I can guarantee you that “blunt” is not what comes to mind.
Today, I’m struggling to think of the words to describe someone so very dear to me. What words do her justice? Are there any? She was humble, life-affirming, loving, funny, easy-going. She laughed easily and cried too hard. She was an emotional being, shedding tears at all those tiny moments in life that others sail through. She sobbed every time, EVERY TIME, she said goodbye to me over the years. She had the cutest laugh. She could easily make fun of herself, but she would never do that to you. She would never, ever, ever hurt someone’s feelings. That was beyond her; she did not even know how to do that.
Sometime during the night this past Thursday, or maybe early Friday morning, my precious Aunt Connie Alavezos, left her earthly body. Cancer, the hated horrible cancer, wore her down, and eventually took her from us. As it robbed her of her physical strength, it never took away her spirit.
I’m thinking of my dad today who has lost his sister, my cousins and their children who have to say goodbye to their beloved mom and grandmother, my Uncle who has lost his best friend and selfishly, myself, because I loved her and I will miss her always.
She loved her family perfectly, her children fiercely, her grandchildren above all, and her husband for what seems like her entire life. She had a beautiful smile, and a sing-song voice that gave you comfort. I will turn to it in the coming days as I think of her, and honor her memory with the same love she showed all.
Before I had nieces or nephews, I used to tell everyone … “I want to be their Aunt Connie." Everyone should have an Aunt that loves them as completely as I was loved by her. Her daughter, my dear cousin, reminded me yesterday that I was “her Kelly.” Yes, that is true. She always referred to her loved ones as "hers" .... my Kelly, my Sherry, my Denise, my Ronnie, my Donnie. Her last thoughts, as she knew the end was coming, was of my Uncle Donnie. She told her friends, "Please take care of my Donnie." Her love was completely altruistic.
She seemed to understand me and when I was with her … she loved me without hesitation or judgment. I felt comfort in her presence, and is there any better feeling than that?
A few months ago, I took a special trip to California to spend time with her as she was weakening. She only wanted to hear about about my life and stories from my dad and stepmom, who were also there. While she was suffering, her only thoughts were of us. She didn’t dwell on the pain, she focused on the family at hand. She worried about me. Worried about Sam and Molly. Expressed her happiness that I have Dan in my life. Her light was shining on me.
During her battle, my Uncle Donnie, easily the most selfless man who ever lived, was her constant companion, her caregiver, the love of her life … and he proved his devotion every day. My Uncle Donnie has a keen sense of humor. He’s a jokester, and during this critical time in their lives, he never lost his sense of humor. It was an amazing thing to witness.
When I was in California, I got to spend some time alone with him … he was talking about how he first met my Aunt, how he loved her then and today. He talked about what in his life has meant the most to him. Of course, it’s family. He is the epitome of a family man … he has devoted every minute of every day to his family in one way or another. A truck driver by trade, he used to go out of his way and stop in Arkansas to see me when he could. He has been as devoted to me as to his own daughters (at least I like to think so).
They were/are both caregivers. Their daughters, my cousins, are caregivers … always putting others first … a calling to be admired and emulated. Years ago, when my grandmother needed somewhere to go where someone could take care of her, they took her in to their home. They cared for her for many years. I owe them for loving my grandmother, sweet Lona May Hinds, in a way no one else could. Hands on, loving her every day.
When I was a little girl, there was nothing I liked better than spending the weekend at my Aunt Connie’s and Uncle Donnie’s house. They had a swimming pool, an organ, an original Atari game system and WATER BEDS! My cousin had one of those play kitchens that I desired. Their home had all the cool things I didn’t have at my house. And, their house was full of other kids, family and neighborhood kids, and so much laughter. My Uncle loved to tease the kids, and sometimes I was a little fearful of him, and I would run to my Aunt, and she would yell at him to “Stop teasing Kelly!” Then she would say, “Honey, he loves you. I love you so much! I am so glad you are here!” Then the hugs. Her hugs were the best, and she always had plenty of them. Of course, he did, too. They were the parents everyone wanted.
The happiness that was in their home, the love they showed to family and friends, and the generosity they have always lived by .. it’s more than I can comprehend. With all the hate and the divisiveness in this world, are there really people that loving and good in this place? Am I really that blessed to have them as my family? To have helped me grow to the person I am today? I don’t deserve them.
I love them so very much, and I feel like I am the luckiest girl in the world to have them as MY aunt and uncle. In this time when my Uncle is finding his way without my Aunt, and as we say goodbye the one of the most precious people who ever lived, say a prayer or think of them.
She may not be here, but she is with me. I hear her, and I will always cherish her. Change is hard, especially a change that robs you of a light. She was a gift to me, and all who knew her, and I’m thankful for the love and memories of my precious Aunt Connie.
