Remembering Aunt Edythe

This is Aunt Edythe's profile pic on Facebook. I can't imagine what she did on there.

My Great-aunt Edythe passed away early Sunday morning. She was ninety-six.

For as long as I’d been around to know and remember her, she lived a care-free life. Through her eyes, the world was a good place, and people were, for the most-part, well-intentioned.

No, she wasn’t delusional or oblivious. Until the very end, she was always well-aware of what goes on in the world: war, famine, disease, and so on. I’m sure that, years ago with three young children, the chaos in her home was a microcosm of the world around us. But she, like her four siblings, didn’t dwell on it and didn’t let it occupy her.

She chose to live in a simpler time; a time free of modern distractions; somewhat reminiscent of an early-era TV sitcom. After her children had grown and moved on, and after her husband had passed, she had borders living in her house – for financial support as well as companionship. Usually, they were college students who couldn’t afford a place of their own in the Connecticut city where she lived. Although stern with her old-fashioned rules, she was trusting. Enough so that it caused others in the family, those of us in a younger generation who grew up in a less idealist world, some concern.