This past week, the General and I mentioned our desire to visit my Aunt Trula. You know what they say about good intentions; if you fail to follow through, you not only miss an opportunity for a random act of kindness, but you miss the opportunity to connect in a meaningful way. It was as though we both sensed the need to see her. Consequently, when last week's workdays evaporated into Saturday morning, the decision had been made that nothing had more importance than our visiting Aunt Trula.
My, aunt, uncle, and four cousins were residents of Fort Worth throughout my childhood and beyond. Following my uncle's death 24 years ago, my aunt and her oldest daughter shared a home in the greater Fort Worth area. That plan was disrupted when her oldest daughter died unexpectedly a few years back. Following my cousin's death, Aunt Trula moved to Austin to live with her youngest daughter, a lobbyist at the State Capitol.
Aunt Trula's move to Austin marked the beginning of her forfeiture of some level of independence. She stopped driving. Who could blame her? Her lack of familiarity with Austin and the quagmire of traffic was simply too much of a challenge for any of us to feel comfortable with her driving. It was safer that she did not drive. She made that adjustment without being unduly upset.
Sadly, the emergence of cognitive issues eventually made it unsafe for Aunt Trula to be without close supervision and she became a resident at a small group home serving adults needing 24/7 care. While Aunt Trula would be the first to say that it doesn't feel like home, she also is insightful enough to know that it is for her safety.
Aunt Trula is one of the most courageous people that I know. At the age of 95, she is the sole survivor of her family of origin and has held that distinct designation for several years. Initially in that role, she admirably served as the matriarch of the family and routinely initiated contact with a host of nieces and nephews who are now amid their golden years with words of encouragement and support.
It was longer ago than I want to remember when I last saw her, prior to Saturday morning. During the previous visit, we both talked nonstop with reminiscences of days gone by. It was a feel-good experience as we shared story after story of the tie that binds. Some of those stories brought laughter.
I had anticipated that the visit on Saturday would be pretty much the same. Yet, I ascertained immediately from her body language on Saturday morning that Aunt Trula didn't know us. I quickly introduced myself and the General. In the hour that we shared, she was gracious, seemingly relaxed, and conversational. Whenever we paid her any kind of compliment, she always responded with, "Thank You."
When she mentioned her siblings who have long been since been on the other side of eternity, I didn't attempt to correct her when she told me where they were living. I just verified that, I too, had wonderful memories of them. She expressed surprise: "You know my family?" I affirmed that I did and that I loved them very much.
Aunt Trula asked several times if we had children? Of course, the General had pictures of our son, daughter, and grandchildren that she could share. I never got the sense that Aunt Trula was uncomfortable in our presence, but she played her cards close to her chest. He illness had not stolen from her the radiance that has always been hers.
I also sensed that she enjoyed the visit even if details associated to the rich history that we've shared were no longer available for her retrieval. That, too, had me fighting back tears.
At some point she said: "Your voice is so familiar. You sound just like my nephew's voice." She added that he was a minister. In fact, she said that I reminded her of him. Her words pulled at my heartstrings as I also successfully fought back tears. Yet that kind of affirmation filled my heart with joy.
We visited for an hour. As we bid her farewell, she initiated hugs. She thanked us for coming to see her and expressed her hope that we would do so again. I can guarantee you that we will.
While we may be strangers to her, I have a treasure chest of memories associated to the love and support she has provided across the years. The one thing I have going for me is that I sound like her nephew when I talk. I know that guy as well and I hope to remind her of him often.
All My Best!
Don
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