I just found out my Aunt Janice passed away. She wasn’t really my aunt; I think she was a second cousin, but no matter, she had a talent for always showing my parents and me a memorable time whenever we were with her.
I remember the time we went out to see her, she lived on the East Coast and she drove us into an Amish area so we could see the boxy, black horse-drawn buggies with the orange triangle reflector on the back; we stopped at a farmers market and bought juicy, ripe peaches and a shoo-fly pie, a specialty of the region.
Later on the same trip she took us to the Boardwalk and rented air mattresses so we could wade out into the ocean and whoosh our way back to shore. We even played miniature golf at night (very exotic for a Midwesterner) on the Boardwalk as we sucked and chewed on saltwater taffy. She had a pet duck, Buford, who was very tame and he would let you feed him corn out of your hand. She had a sunny disposition in spite of having a difficult life.
If you are lucky enough, you have an Aunt Janice in your life. I cherish the memories I have of her and mourn her passing. Here’s to the Aunt Janices of the world, long may they shine.
I’mRosie Klepperand that’s my perspective.
