Pink Panther Theme Song
My aunt died last week. She was my mom's younger sister. They were the two youngest in a pretty large family and they were best friends when they were younger.
My aunt impacted my life in many ways. For one thing, my mom says my aunt always wanted to be an American. When they were little she would walk around talking in fake American and pretend she was one.
When she was old enough she got an American GI as a boyfriend, got married and took off to America and became an American for real. Before she left though, she introduced my mom to her boyfriend's buddy, and that guy eventually became my dad.
Soon after she got to America she had two boys and got divorced. She spent pretty much all her life from that point forward living in that same part of America she ended up in, which was here in Northern California, where her American husband was from.
I spent a lot of time with her two sons when I was growing up. One was slightly older than me and one slightly younger.
After my dad retired from the Army we lived in Indiana and he started working for the Post Office. He had a severe personality clash with the guy who became post master there and my aunt happened to know the post master in a small town here, got him an interview with the guy and we all ended up moving out here. Another big impact she had on me.
The thing is though, I really didn't like this aunt. In fact, the last time I saw her, I called her hateful and walked out on the dinner we were having. I was very angry. I had sat through this dinner listening to her go on and on about 'them' (which meant 'the gays') and how she wished that San Francisco would just slide into the ocean and how she was upset at even having to share the road with 'them'. I sat there and kept my lid shut until finally, like a pressure cooker, it got blown off. I was shaking mad and I think I really surprised her. She wasn't used to people calling her on that crap
But my dislike didn't start there. I had always felt uncomfortable around her. She was ... brassy and a bit raucous. Her laugh was like fingernails on a chalkboard to me. And she was very conscious of social status. I imagine it had a lot to do with being dirt poor in Germany as a kid and her idea of what it meant to be an American.
Anyways, I never wanted to have much to do with her. Once we got older, even my two cousins and I never got along very well. My mother and her were still very close though, even though my mom is a pretty strong liberal and my aunt was the other side of that coin, they were still two sisters in America, and I know my mom is in pain from this, so for that reason only, I grieve a bit at my aunt's passing.
My aunt impacted my life in many ways. For one thing, my mom says my aunt always wanted to be an American. When they were little she would walk around talking in fake American and pretend she was one.
When she was old enough she got an American GI as a boyfriend, got married and took off to America and became an American for real. Before she left though, she introduced my mom to her boyfriend's buddy, and that guy eventually became my dad.
Soon after she got to America she had two boys and got divorced. She spent pretty much all her life from that point forward living in that same part of America she ended up in, which was here in Northern California, where her American husband was from.
I spent a lot of time with her two sons when I was growing up. One was slightly older than me and one slightly younger.
After my dad retired from the Army we lived in Indiana and he started working for the Post Office. He had a severe personality clash with the guy who became post master there and my aunt happened to know the post master in a small town here, got him an interview with the guy and we all ended up moving out here. Another big impact she had on me.
The thing is though, I really didn't like this aunt. In fact, the last time I saw her, I called her hateful and walked out on the dinner we were having. I was very angry. I had sat through this dinner listening to her go on and on about 'them' (which meant 'the gays') and how she wished that San Francisco would just slide into the ocean and how she was upset at even having to share the road with 'them'. I sat there and kept my lid shut until finally, like a pressure cooker, it got blown off. I was shaking mad and I think I really surprised her. She wasn't used to people calling her on that crap
But my dislike didn't start there. I had always felt uncomfortable around her. She was ... brassy and a bit raucous. Her laugh was like fingernails on a chalkboard to me. And she was very conscious of social status. I imagine it had a lot to do with being dirt poor in Germany as a kid and her idea of what it meant to be an American.
Anyways, I never wanted to have much to do with her. Once we got older, even my two cousins and I never got along very well. My mother and her were still very close though, even though my mom is a pretty strong liberal and my aunt was the other side of that coin, they were still two sisters in America, and I know my mom is in pain from this, so for that reason only, I grieve a bit at my aunt's passing.