aunt carala
Yesterday morning when I came home from work, my Dad called to tell me Aunt Carala passed away. I am still in numb shock about this and don't really know what to say. She was the only real existent link to my mother.
When a baby, Carala suffered from a case of german measles and at 13 was instituitionalized. She lived a hard life between poorly run institiutions and group homes. Soon my Mom had become her legal guardian and fought an uphill battle to get Carala into a better place. For a time, she even lived with us; but the strains along with her bouts of schizophrenia proved hard for both my parents.
After some time, Mom finally found Carala a very good group home about an hour or so east of Cincinnati, in Hillsboro. We would take occasional trips up to visit and vice versa. She stayed over for the holidays watching lots of t.v., eating lots of ice cream, and smoking an a few more cigarettes than the nurses would allow. After my mom passed, I would continue to make sure to keep in touch with Aunt Carala. Off and on, I'd send her a letter of the goings on in the family and would throw in some holy cards to boot. Her collection of holy cards and angels would put a religious store to shame.
We were blessed to see her one last time - last month, for her 68th birthday. Due to a bout of pnuemonia in the spring, Carala was a little weaker than usual - yet as spirited as ever. We took her shopping at the local Wal-Mart, then had lunch at Frisch's. She opened up the rest of her presents and ate to her heart's content. After a while we took her back home, I helped her unpack her gifts and stared at the growing assortment of angels on her dresser.
Like my mother, she too had tremendous faith and vouched to pray us each and every day. I admit my faith is weak - but I know she's with Mom now, face to face with real angels, and possibly trading a few more holy cards.
When a baby, Carala suffered from a case of german measles and at 13 was instituitionalized. She lived a hard life between poorly run institiutions and group homes. Soon my Mom had become her legal guardian and fought an uphill battle to get Carala into a better place. For a time, she even lived with us; but the strains along with her bouts of schizophrenia proved hard for both my parents.
After some time, Mom finally found Carala a very good group home about an hour or so east of Cincinnati, in Hillsboro. We would take occasional trips up to visit and vice versa. She stayed over for the holidays watching lots of t.v., eating lots of ice cream, and smoking an a few more cigarettes than the nurses would allow. After my mom passed, I would continue to make sure to keep in touch with Aunt Carala. Off and on, I'd send her a letter of the goings on in the family and would throw in some holy cards to boot. Her collection of holy cards and angels would put a religious store to shame.
We were blessed to see her one last time - last month, for her 68th birthday. Due to a bout of pnuemonia in the spring, Carala was a little weaker than usual - yet as spirited as ever. We took her shopping at the local Wal-Mart, then had lunch at Frisch's. She opened up the rest of her presents and ate to her heart's content. After a while we took her back home, I helped her unpack her gifts and stared at the growing assortment of angels on her dresser.
Like my mother, she too had tremendous faith and vouched to pray us each and every day. I admit my faith is weak - but I know she's with Mom now, face to face with real angels, and possibly trading a few more holy cards.